Feel the hot sand grains oozing between your toes as you walk. The sun is just setting on the horizon above the ocean and a shadow falls across the water giving it a romantic appeal. It’s a warm night in Hawaii and beads of sweat are trickling down your back. The water is enticing you just as the drum beats begin to sound, echoing across the water all the way to the moon and back to your feet. You begin to move them, slowly at first, then the fervor picks up and you are in full dance. It’s your first Hawaiian Luau and you are going to party tonight.
“Where did all these people come from?” you think to yourself. A moment ago you were alone with the moon, the sand, the water and the drums. Now you are surrounded by people who are in various stages of gyration and rhythm to drums that are sounding louder than the waves crashing ashore. They’re all dressed in crazy flowery outfits or bathing suits dancing to the beat. No one seems to care whose watching and there is no dance style. It’s just pure music appreciation time and you are paying homage to the beat, the rhythm, the cadence of bodies melding together on the hot sands.
The moon bathes the scene in the fullness of its splendor as its light cascades across the water like a giant candle onto the beach. Eerie silhouettes stand high above the water dancing with the crowd of melded bodies on the beach, all in some magical rhythm.
Someone passed you a fruity cocktail- like drink with some big flowers in the glass. It’s cold to your touch so you didn’t bother to ask what kind of drink was in the glass. You drank it down in two or three gulps and handed the glass back to the server, anxious to merge with the bodies like some part of a gelatin mold.
The moon is high in the sky now and it sends an eerie light onto the beach. You don’t need the candles or torches because the moon is full so it reflects brightly off the water. Someone yells to the drummers to pick up the beat while someone else entices everyone to the water. It’s a warm night so you jump in with the crowd chasing the low waves near the shore. You forgot about your Lei so it’s soggy when you come back ashore and falls apart when you try to take it off.
Before your swim you had another drink. This time it came in a glass that looks like a palm tree. You are thinking to yourself, these Hawaiians are very connected to nature.
Suddenly you feel a draft sweep over you which causes you to look down. “Oh no!” you exclaim. Your Lei wasn’t the only thing you forgot to take off before you got in the water. Your grass skirt is dripping as it slides down around your ankles. Someone obviously forgot to remind you about the skimpy bottoms that go under those skirts.
Embarrassed, you grasp at your grass skirt trying frantically to pull it up as it falls to pieces in your fingers. The red on your face matches the color of your palm tree drink you had a while ago. A crowd of women rush to your side asking if you need some assistance. At that very moment, you swoon and have no recollection of hitting the warm night sand.
Morning comes leaving you feeling groggy. Half awake you realize that you are lying in bed at your beach bungalow. You yawn and begin to sit up when the coconuts fall from your chest. At that moment you remember that you probably had one too many of those special fruity drinks.
One thing is certain. You had a great time at your first Hawaiian Luau. But how in the world did you get back to your bungalow and where did those coconuts come from?