Graphic for the "Querencia" project.

    At first, everything starts out slow and easy. Then it gets faster; so fast that sometimes it feels difficult to keep up. Life for me has felt that way so far, and escaping it temporarily is no easy task without a place to go to. That place--Querencia--is a place that makes oneself feel tranquil. I’ve gone to quite a few quiet and calm places, but one place in specific is without equal. Kaneohes’ Hawaiian Memorial Cemetery is that place.
    The drive to the cemetery is one filled with awe in every direction. Even on those rainy days. The large mountains whose true height is masked by the clouds, the lengthy radio-silent Tetsuo Harano tunnel, the vibrant plants and trees; it is a place whose elegance is unmatched by any other place I have seen. All except for the cemetery itself.
    The first time in which I laid eyes on the cemetery, it seemed great in size. A size that makes oneself appear smaller than how big they think they are. It didn’t look like a cemetery at all either, since the lusciousness of Kaneohe is greatly shown there. The deep curves in the hills made it seem as if there was much to explore; and there was. Being a young individual at the time made the experience all the more exhilarating. Though, such emotions often faded over the years and transformed as life got more complicated and stressful. I would not be able to keep up with the pace of schooling and even when I did, I felt overworked and too anxious to relax knowing that there’s probably going to be something else in store the next week.
    However, visiting the memorial is impactful, to say the least. I forget about the mistakes I’ve made that week; what’s due the next day for school. It’s quite easy to forget about them temporarily; to lose oneself in the serenity. I am not the type of individual who prefers to have the feeling of being distressed, but the memorial greatly diminishes that feeling. No longer do the tasks I am required to perform seem as difficult as they originally seemed to be. No longer does a future of comfort seem out of reach, because such comfort is possible. The memorial makes me feel that way. The fact that it is a cemetery alone provokes great thought and reflection on the lives that have past. Walking along the graves, taking as much time as possible with each step allows me to clear my mind and focus on one thing at a time; whether it is a significant or an insignificant part of my life.
    One might say that a cemetery should be a place where one mourns, not a place of enjoyment. Of course, I mourn. My grandmother and I visit once every few months to remember the lives of family that have died. We express our feelings; tell them the events that have happened in our lives since their passing even though we know that nobody else is listening. However, I’ve learned through the many funerals that I’ve been to that celebrating their lives is of greater importance than acknowledging their death. To commemorate their successes; the impact that they’ve made to shape the world around them. The cemetery acts like a safe haven for what they did. A haven for the stories and memories where one can visit and remember, like an immortal library. The thought of that simply fascinates me to the point where my focus is lifted from the stress I currently have, even if it may just be a temporary one. It is eerie to just enjoy being surrounded by the dead, but it isn’t eerie to me when I think of the memorial as a library of life stories. Such a thought is especially true when paired with the beauty of Kaneohe.
    All things come to an end, and so does my visit to the memorial. But the thoughts that are created within my mind do not. They constantly float around my mind whenever anything stresses or upsets me. Going to the memorial is immensely refreshing. Even though I visit it once in a long while, they evoke similar emotions that make it seem like what I consider it; my Querencia.

It’s only been a short period of time before I dove back into the now warm water, thanks to the sun. Looking to the shore, I can see that my cousins have arrived; most of which seek to have a great time. The water sloshes around as we unload our water guns onto each other. The smell of barbeque is like a calling us to feast on lunch. Walking back to our picnic area, I am greeted not only by the typical reggae music, but with my aunties and uncles who I haven’t seen since our last get-together. We share stories built up from the time frame that we haven’t seen each each other--the people we’ve met, the achievements we’ve made, and much more. Snap! Another picture for us remember. We begin to depart, but it is always “A hui ho’u!”; until next time.

    At first, everything starts out slow and easy. Then it gets faster; so fast that sometimes it feels difficult to keep up. Life for me has felt that way so far, and escaping it temporarily is no easy task without a place to go to. That place--Querencia--is a place that makes oneself feel tranquil. I’ve gone to quite a few quiet and calm places, but one place in specific is without equal. Kaneohes’ Hawaiian Memorial Cemetery is that place.
    The drive to the cemetery is one filled with awe in every direction. Even on those rainy days. The large mountains whose true height is masked by the clouds, the lengthy radio-silent Tetsuo Harano tunnel, the vibrant plants and trees; it is a place whose elegance is unmatched by any other place I have seen. All except for the cemetery itself.
    The first time in which I laid eyes on the cemetery, it seemed great in size. A size that makes oneself seem smaller than how big they think they are. The deep curves in the hills made it seem as if there was much to explore; and there was. Being a young individual at the time made the experience all the more exhilarating. Though, such emotions often faded over the years and transformed as life got more complicated and stressful. I would not be able to keep up with the pace of schooling and even when I did, I felt overworked and too anxious to relax knowing that there’s probably going to be something else in store the next week.
    However, visiting the memorial is impactful, to say the least. I forget about the mistakes I’ve made that week; what’s due the next day for school. It’s quite easy to forget about them temporarily; to lose oneself in the serenity. I am not the type of individual who prefers to have the feeling of being distressed, but the memorial has greatly diminished that feeling. No longer do the tasks I am required to perform seem as difficult as they originally seemed to be. No longer does a future of comfort seem out of reach, because such comfort is possible. The memorial makes me feel that way. The fact that it is a cemetery alone provokes great thought and reflection on the lives that have past. Walking along the graves, taking as much time as possible with each step allows me to clear my mind and focus on one thing at a time; whether it is a significant or an insignificant part of my life.
    All things come to an end, and so does my visit to the memorial. But the thoughts that are created within my mind do not. They constantly float around my mind whenever anything stresses or upsets me. Going to the memorial is immensely refreshing. Even though I visit it once in a long while, they evoke similar emotions that make it seem like what I consider it; my Querencia.

Photo by Simeon Muller

Graphic for the "Words From The Heart" project.

Beauty in the luscious green grass. The stone graves. The tall trees. It is a bright, sunny day--one that transforms what can be seen as a pessimistic and weeping like site to a calm and soothing one. There are clouds in the sky, but not those that ruin the warmth the bright star in the sky brings unto those beneath it. The breeze has so perfectly paired with the weather, creating a comforting coolness balanced with the heat of the sun. It feels as if one has come out of an air-conditioned room to feel the energy of the sun stream through one's own body; constantly going back and forth between the cycles of a cool breeze and a glowing sun. I see an elderly woman talking to herself; rather, talking to those that have past and whose names have been ingrained onto their personal slabs. She descends, lowering the pot full of vibrant flowers into the ground. It seems as though the curved, sharp mountains behind blankets those she talks to as they sleep. It soothes me to perceive the care in which one still has for those whose lives have ended. Quietly.