Early morning

It’s the “early” morning quiet that woke me this morning. I guess I’ve finally entered officially into Roman time. I have brought my computer and camera outside to dutifully write my blog entry, which by the way happens to be one day late. Sorry.

I also made my first Italian coffee with steamed milk foam. My daughter who used to work at Starbucks would be proud of me. The sounds of people getting ready for a new day begin. Pigeons are cooing, wings are flapping and seagulls are already squawking, complaining as they pass high over my head. The sounds of traffic have just begun too. It’s the eighth and I’m sitting outside on the lanai where Alohalani wrote about the evening sky. I too cannot help but write about the beautiful sky. The ‘Olekukahi moon is setting in the west. Hokulei, Capella, is at my zenith. It seems so odd to see Hokupa, or Auriga directly above my head. A big bright orange planet is also next to the twins and I cannot immediately place it. It’s probably Mars, but I am unsure. Kekaomakali’i is also directly above me and their orientation seems almost upside down as I am high north from the equator. Nanamua & Nanahope are prominent in the sky and I understand why they were important ancient gods to the Romans. These are my gods too and old familiar friends. I also notice that stars don’t twinkle here so you cannot tell which are planets and which are stars. These old familiar friends, out of place in the lewa make me miss home. If I were home right now in Hilo I’d be watching some random show on the TV, listening to the rain on the roof and researching one thing or the other about ancient days and history of Hawai’i. Funny how I’m doing exactly the same thing here on my “vacation,” no? The only difference is that I’m writing about my experiences in the present while walking through courtyards, castles, halls and walls of someone else’s ancient past. You cannot fall too far away from the tree, I suppose, no matter how far you uproot your tree. Hah! Ok, enough with the profundity.

Yesterday we spent a good chunk of the morning at Castel Sant’ Angelo. Most may recall this fortress as one of the main locations for the story Angels and Demons. If you have ever seen or read a story where castles, dragons, nights and fair maidens were involved, this place would’ve been the epitome of your imagination. There’s a deep moat surrounding the foundation of the hill, which I’ve learned is actually a manmade hill. The Tiber river fronts the castle’s angel bedecked bridge and the entire building is surrounded with a steep impending wall full of nooks, crannies and purposeful angled windows to drop hot oil, shoot guns or levy canon balls the size of basketballs at any enemy. It’s a perfect place to conjure up all those stories you may’ve read about ancient battles. But wait a minute, what am I thinking?…. Those stories actually did transpire here. Firstly, Castel Sant’ Angelo was once the tomb of a Roman emperor named Hadrian. I think he had the building constructed to be his and his family’s tomb. He had the entire place decorated with statues of angels and on the top of the roof where the archangel Michael now stands, was a huge bronze four horse drawn chariot called a quadriga. Hadrian also commissioned the construction of the bridge with all the angels as well. I’m pretty sure the angels were not holding all the implements of the passion of Christ then as Christianity wasn’t big yet when Hadrian was alive. My feeling is that those additions had been included later. The model seen above is what some ancient texts and drawings have illustrated. It sort of looks like a huge birthday cake.

My understanding is that the place later becomes a tomb or mausoleum for many other emperors and aristocrats of the Roman empire until a dude named Caracalla. There once were urns that held the ashes of these folks in the center of the building.
Some 400 years after Hadrian the place is recycled and turned into a military fortress. However at the fall of the Roman empire the infamous Visigoths burn the place down. Then the Catholics came into power and turned the place into a Papal fortress. At some point Popes reside in the castle and like the story of Angels & Demons explains, had an underground passageway built between the Basilica and the castle. Raphael, Michelangelo’s apprentice, sculpts a marble statue of Saint Michael with a sword representing the triumph over the plague. The place later becomes a prison and is now a background where operas and stories are being told. Hence the opera Tosca and now the story we seem to be familiar with. By the way, the folks here were in an uproar over the book and the movie.
What does the place look like? Everything you’d imagine a castlewould with a bridge, circular hallways large enough for three men on horseback to ride and ramparts…. hey there’s a word I never thought I’d ever use in a sentence…. filled with canons, cannon balls and a huge ass crossbow the size of a Toyota truck. From the very top of the castle my mind goes into creativity at its best. I can imagine the trebuchets launching fiery boulders from across the Tiber river, large horse drawn wagons with mangonels and battle rams attempting to get into the fortress. I see crossbows being launched, hear sounds of blades being unsheathed and of course the horrific sounds of men & women in battle. Sort of invigorating. Then I’m brought right back to where I am today as the saxophone player for the MTV concert of Michael Buble is practicing discordantly on the other side of the castle. Shucks. What’s at the top of the castle you’re asking? A bar. What about under the huge angel? Tourists. Present company included.
Got a good workout from walking up all the stairs too.

Then off on the motorino we went to go find the shoe store that had some gorgeous shoes Alohalani wanted. Good thing I’m not a navigator cause I couln’t find that damn store. However we did find another store that provided lovely shoes for Alohalani. K, I did think about getting a pair for myself but let’s be real. I’m as kanak as they get, hate closed toed shoes and love Italian sandals & slippers. No more any sandals right now cause it’s fall going into winter which means only a coocoo bird would be wanted open toed shoes right now. Ahhhhh.
E Kalani & Aunty Pua, I had the best glass of Brunello today for lunch with a parmesan cheese/tomato/arugula pizza for antipasti then a plate of straccetti (strah-chet-ee) for the main meal. I nevah know that the food was going be so ‘ono and the plates would have so much of it in one serving. Haven’t eaten dinner for two days straight now due to the huge lunches I’ve been engorging myself on. No biggie though. I’ll go back on my diet when I go home.
K, well. I’m supposed say something about myself in these blogs by the request of some of you. So let me say that I came to Rome because it was a happy birthday wish if my friend. I stand before many buildings that Kalakaua himself stood before, contemplating how his palace would be constructed. I have also stood before many sacred sites in Hawai’i

contemplating how my ancestors created them and contemplating how I will save those same

places. For me, time runs simultaneously. We talk about the past, are moving towards the future while standing in the immediate present. So when I come to Rome and see the many civilizations that have risen, fallen and risen again as something else but in the same shell not too far from their predecessors, I know that Hawaiians can do the same. I can appreciate many things but only through the eyes of a Hawaiian scholar who knows her culture well. Yep…. Same stars above my head….. Same stars indeed.

K den Gangeh….. Lataz….
Kalei Nu’uhiwa
(c) 2009 Kalei Tsuha

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Our Day at the Vatican

Howzit Gangeh! Hope all is well in Hawai’i. I hear that Lono has entered into our Hawaiian scene with flashing skies and deep rolling celestial drum rolls announcing his entrance, as expected for this time, ea? First, I must apologize for this posting as there won’t be as many accompanying photos with today’s story as with previous postings. I took so many photos (1,093), my camera is still downloading them. I will try and get some up immediately after the downloading and the battery recharge.

We donned our head panties and helmets and off we went on the motorino again. Nice way to get the blood pumping in the morning. We tried to find a shoe store we saw the day previously but couldn’t. We took care of morning business by checking out another open market area. This one had fresh cut flowers, ocean creatures, wine, vinegar, olive oil, cheeses, meats, olives, vegetables, fruit, the latest pottery and even vegetable cutters. Bought some olives and cut pottery than off again to the Vatican.
Today was all about the Vatican City. I learned that Vatican City is a whole country all onto itself. It is the smallest country in the world measuring approximately 17 miles. It’s surrounded by a wall that I’m sure in its hay day would’ve been impenetrable. The walls are built so that a huge army would have to be pretty innovative to climb them. It’s built at a steep slant on the bottom and than topped off with a sheer 75 foot fortification. Kind of made me wonder why.
I’m unsure as to how much I should write about my personal feelings regarding the Vatican as I’m sure others feel overwhelmed with some sort of spirituality. The place was constructed to make you feel small and insignificant. You definitely feel the political power and might the forefathers of this place created and, may I boldly state, still orchestrate. Tombs of dead Popes and rich benefactors were ominous. I saw two nuns praying solemnly on their knees before the tomb of Pope John Paul the II. For me, I can appreciate and understand everyones desire for sanctity. I saw the famous La Pietra sculpture and mailed postcards to my family members from the Vatican post office. It’ll probably arrive in Hawai’i in two months.
They’re getting ready for the canonization too. Chairs and stages have been set up. They’re expecting over 100,000 people for the event. A total of 5 individuals, including Father Damien, will be canonized. I think that’s all I will say about that and the Vatican.
The Sistine Chapel was manaful. The sculptures, marble, paintings, tapestries and maps were phenomenal. Marble shaped to look like soft folding cascading robes were exquisite. Gold, ochre and cobalt paintings were painstakingly painted to give the murals a three dimensional effect. You cannot tell sometimes if the art you are looking at is an actual sculpture or painting. Raphael & Michelangelo’s paintings and sculptures were breathtaking. I found more spirituality there within those painted halls and ceilings than in other areas. We left tired and drained and returned home to recover. We drank two glasses campari soda (tastes like gasoline and grapefruit) to ease our tired bones. Over all a day that I will reflect and ponder over as time goes on.
Ciao Gangeh!
Kalei Nu’uhiwa
(c) 2009 Kalei Tsuha

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Quiet thoughts from Rome as I sit beneath the night sky

It is 3:42 a.m. and Kalei and Cristoforo are sleeping. I am sitting on the B&B terrace beneath a waning moon. Last night, if I remember correctly, Kalei told me it was the Hoku moon. She taught me how to tell if a moon is waning or waxing. As I sit beneath the terrace awning which is composed of two triangular sail clothes (I am sure there is a terminology for such things, but I am unaware of the correct word, but I do know it is peʻa in Hawaiian), I wonder if the many Hawaiians, past and present, who came to Rome sat like me staring up at the sky and thought about home.

Rome is almost never silent, but it is now. My thoughts are flowing quietly in the night much like the Tiber river upon whose banks Rome was founded. The Tiber is the third largest in Italy. It’s tranquil surface belies the complicated currents which characterize it.  Romulus and Remo were thought to have been deposited in the Tiber by their mother Rhea Silvia who was a vestal virgin impregnated by the god Mars as she slept. Rhea Silvia was the daughter of Numitor Silvia. When Numitor’s brother Amulius deposed him, Amulius forced Rhea Silivia to become a vestal virgin. Vestal virgins must remain chaste for the entire duration of their service. I remember reading somewhere that at around 40 years old they were free to leave service. Breaking the vow of chastity was punishable by death. Rhea Silvia deposited her twins in a reed basket and set them afloat in the Tiber. The god of the river, Tiberinus watched over them and sent a she-wolf who took the basket in her mouth and brought the infant twins to her cave where she nursed them until a farmer discovered them and took them away to raise them. Romulus went on to found Rome, which takes its name from him.

Kalei was telling me that the Hawaiian students of Lahaina Luna learned Latin, Italian, French, and English. She also mentioned that some of the stories which were printed in the 19th-century Hawaiian-language newspapers were translated into Hawaiian directly from Italian and French by these students. Last night I was keeping my son company while he did his homework. He studies Latin, Spanish, English, and French because he attends a high school called Classico Linguistico. Italian high schools fall into different categories. The one my son has chosen to attend concentrates on language studies. Kalei is also rapidly picking up Italian. People turn and stare when they hear Kalei and I conversing in Hawaiian. They often ask what language we are speaking. I switch from English and Hawaiian with Kalei, to Italian and English with my son. Our multilingual group gets a lot of attention. I wonder if those Hawaiians who came to Italy in the 19th century missed speaking their mother tongue? Perhaps one day I will research the Italian archives for more knowledge on our ancestors who made this country their home. Kalei was also telling me that museums around the world have many Hawaiian artifacts. This made me curious as to whether there are such things here in Rome. I have visited many museums here, but never noticed any exhibits showcasing Hawaiian artifacts. That doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Perhaps there is something packed away or gathering dust somewhere.

I want to know. I want to bring them home. I don’t even know if this is feasible. For now it is just a thought. A thought brought about by staring up at a beautiful moon and musing about how the moon is the same familiar entity where ever I go.

Me ke aloha,


Virtual motorino & market

Aloha kakou e ku’u mau hoa heluhelu,Bongiorno!

Well nothing major to report today so I thought I’d take you on a virtual tour of the Trastevere markets we visited today. So lets begin with the crazy motorino ride.

These first four pictures are a truncated version of the crazy ride we took this morning on the busy highway. We were taking Cristoforo’s school bag to him in school. Notice the speed by which drivers move inches from us, along with the obstacles and other motorinos vying for the same speed and space. Weeeeee!
It’s all about food today as our main excursion was to forage for lunch at the many markets and shops of Trastevere. We then headed towards Travestere to shop for fresh vegetables, cheese, prosciutto & bread from the markets. We decided that we’d have lunch in one of the lovely jogging parks in Rome.
When you arrive at the market, your senses are assaulted by the many aromas of known and unknown vegetables and fruits. Imagine this, every color you see in the photos equal the various fragrances and scents wafting from the choice edibles.

We make our way to the next market and find bags of grains, nuts, rice and beans of every kind imagined. Sacks of pine nuts, hazel nuts, almonds and others unknown to me are stacked. Bottles, tin cans, jars and containers of all kinds of things are neatly stacked on shelves and counter tops. TheThe colors are as pleasing to the eye as the aromas are pleasing to the nose. The din of church bells in the distance, motorinos buzzing by, truck reverse alarms beeping and people boisterously laughing or arguing sums up the experience of the Trastevere market. We walk over to the deli where pastas are hung from the ceiling, cheeses are on display and huge jars of red wine vinegar invite you to take them home. The people in the deli are charming and eager to fulfill our every wish. Laughter roles easily off their tongues as do stories of the farmers selling their wares in their tents. These folks are also honest as they gesture towards another market where we can find the smaller bottles of the prized Balsamic vinegar and local olive oil. The

place smells of herbs and oil. Mmmmmmm. Again the businessmen great us with a vigorous “Bonjiorno.” We buy our oil and vinegar

and then quickly cross the street towards another market that has meat, bread and cheese. The fire oven bread looks sooooooo delicious. The puffed hollowed buns are what we get with a nodding approval from the older woman sitting behind the register with aging prosciutto hanging over her head. She’s clearly the matriarch of the place. Italians love food like they love life. Everything is done with a sense of pride.

We get back on to the motorino and up we go on a steep hill to a lovely park that lawyers, doctors and accountants exercise in. The park was once someone’s estate turn

ed over to the government for some reason or other. There are 100 year old pines, endemic palms, and remnant fountains of a luxurious time gone by. The walls and stairs we see are larger than life. We get to a bench and break open our collected wares. Yummy cheese soft like sour cream but smooth like butter. Salty sweet prosciutto sliced so think you can see through the paper it’s wrapped in. Fresh pop bread, water from the famous aqua ducts (aqueducts) cherry tomatoes and real Roman green olives…. Ahhh.. I think I’m spoiled for life. Nothing in the cans or jars at home come close.
Tomorrow we go to the Vatican and the Castle Sant Angelo….. Can’t wait….
Kalei Nu’uhiwa
(c) 2009 Kalei Tsuha

Twitter Updates for 2009-10-04

  • Kalei and I are about to go see the Colosseum, the Forum, Trajan's market, etc. Cri is sleeping and will catch up with us via taxi later. #
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Un po’ di questo; un po’ di quello … A bit of this; a bit of that

Aloha mai kakou e na hoa heluhelu, Ciao tutti!

I am having so much fun sharing Rome with Kalei. Like any good storyteller, I want to establish my connection with Rome before continuing with my tale. My rented motorino

I have lived more years consecutively in Rome (16 years) than I have lived any where else in my life. Mom (Hawaiian, Chinese, Portuguese) and Dad (haole) eloped to California to get married after telling my maternal grandparents that they were going to the last picture show. By the time my mother’s parents found out that their 18 year-old daughter had eloped with the 22 year-old Navy man from South Carolina, my mom was legally married and already expecting me.

I was born in Anaheim (The home of the first Disneyland), California, but spent the first few years of my infancy on Oʻahu (My grandmother forgave my parents for eloping as soon as she held me in her arms).  However, mom and dad opted to return to California, where I attended elementary school (Orange County). When I was 10, they changed their minds again and decided to move back home to Hawaiʻi for good. So I went to intermediate (Waiʻanae) and high school (Waiʻanae/Leilehua) in Hawaiʻi. At 19 I began modeling professionally, which took  me first to Japan (4 years), and then to Rome. Rome became my home base. From there I would fly to Milan, Paris, or New York for prete-a-porter (ready-to-wear) runway shows. Any way, so my life kind of went like this: California (birth  to 1), Hawaiʻi (2-4 years old), California (4-10 years old), Hawaiʻi (10-19 years old), Japan (19-23 years old), Rome (23-40 years old), Hawaiʻi/Rome (40-49 years old). These last 9 nine years have been spent flying back and forth from Hawaiʻi to Rome to visit my children, Cristoforo (13.5 years old), and Lehua (17 on Oct. 23).

Rome is where I came of age. In Rome I learned how to drive a moped, a car, speak Italian and French, where I learned to cook, and where I gave birth to my children. When I was expecting my firstborn, Lehua, I had the worst cravings for poi and kalua pig. Plenty of my Hawaiian relatives made repeat visits to Rome and brought me all kinds of goodies from the islands, but I never did get my poi and kalua pig. Now when I am Hawaiʻi, I get the worst cravings for mozzarella di bufalo. You have not lived until you have eaten fresh mozzarella di bufalo made in Italy. As soon as Kuʻulei gets here (I know you are just frantic hearing about all these adventures, e kuʻu kaikuaʻana, e Kuʻulei, but no worries, we still get plenty adventures for when you arrive), we are going to Napoli and Capri, where in my opinion, the best mozzarella is made.

Whoops. I got distracted. Food does that too me. So do smells and colors, interplay of shadow and light. Beautiful monuments.

Ho! I am doing it again. Where was I?

Oh yeah.

Any way, Rome and Hawaiʻi are both equally home to me. Therefore, when Kalei and Kuʻulei asked me to accompany them to Rome as a friend/tourist guide/translator, I immediately accepted. I had just returned from a visit to Rome only six months earlier in March and was overjoyed to have another opportunity to visit my keiki.

My son Cristoforo and I strolling in Rome on October 2 (Photo by Kalei Nuʻuhiwa (c) 2009 Naleialoha.net)
My son Cristoforo and I strolling in Rome on October 2 (Photo by Kalei Nuʻuhiwa (c) 2009 Naleialoha.net)

I see that Kalei has shared her motorino experience. I am very impressed with her. She did not scream – not even once – as I speed full throttle over the San Pietrini cobblestones, weaving in and out of lanes, going down one way streets the wrong way (on purpose – I know all the short cuts – When in Rome, do as the Romans do), going into the lane of incoming traffic to get around the slow driver. She didn’t even hesitate to ride behind me after I told her the story of how the father of my children broke his femur last year while riding a motorino. I have to confess that four years ago when my daughter Lehua (who was 13 at the time) insisted driving my motorino and me being the passenger,  I screamed my head off every time she wobbled.

I am also teaching Kalei to curse in Italian. She is learning very quickly. Soon I will have her curse the drivers who cut me off. Next are the obscene hand gestures. *grins*

Let’s talk more about Italian food. My dearest friends Anna and Orietta owns a fabulous Italian restaurant called Il Corallo.

Anna is Napoletana (from Napoli). She knows how to make her own mozzarella and other kinds of cheeses. She can build her own pizza oven from scratch. Her Italian cuisine is among the best that I have ever tasted. She taught her son Alessandro everything she knows and he usually takes her place in the kitchen while Anna makes her rounds to talk story with her guests. Anna is larger than life. If you think I drive crazy, you should see Anna on her motorcycle!

Whenever I am in Rome, I eat at Il Corallo. The prices are right, the food is wonderful, the location is right off the famous Piazza Narvona, and the restaurant is frequented by actors, actresses, starlets, play rights, nobility, and artists of all kinds. Additionally, I get to hang out with one of my best friends. Win-win situation.

The restaurant Il Corallo is open for lunch, dinner, and after hours, seven days a week. Address: Via del Corallo, 10/11, Rome. Tel: 06/68.307.703. Email: annadelcorallo@libero.it. Anna is also on facebook as "Ristorante Pizzeria Il Corallo."
The restaurant Il Corallo is open for lunch, dinner, and after hours, seven days a week. Address: Via del Corallo, 10/11, Rome. Tel: 06/68.307.703. Email: annadelcorallo@libero.it. Anna is also on facebook as "Ristorante Pizzeria Il Corallo."

The atmosphere is happy and you catch snippets of interesting conversation flying left and right. I took Kalei there for lunch yesterday when we arrived (Oct. 1) and the next day for dinner (Oct. 2). By the way, there is a 12 hours time difference between Hawaiʻi and Rome. Right now, for me in Rome, it is 6:21 a.m. on Oct. 3. I have already had three cappuccinos and am about to make myself another one. This B&B called “Gli Artisti” or “The Artists” has an expresso machine that is state-of-the-art and for our use. Kalei and my son Cristoforo are both still asleep in the room. Gli Artisti is adorable. We really need to dedicate a post to it.

Are you ready for the Italian phrase of the day? Now everyone repeat after me: Ma come cazzo guidi? Mah Co-meh  Caht-So goo-wee-dee? What kind of &$%# driving is that?

All pictures are by Kalei Nuʻuhiwa and under copyright. Thank you Kalei for being our official photographer. My pitiful cheap-arse camera is not worthy.

Gnocchi sciue, sciue is a signature dish that Anna serves made with fresh gnocchi, mozzarella di bufalo, homemade tomato sauce (no one does tomato sauce like Anna), and fresh basil.
Gnocchi sciue, sciue is a signature dish that Anna serves made with fresh gnocchi, mozzarella di bufalo, homemade tomato sauce (no one does tomato sauce like Anna), and fresh basil.
Spaghetti alle vongole
Spaghetti alle vongole (spaghetti made with fresh clams) is one of my favorite dishes. It is relatively simple to make: Small clams, minced garlic, olive oil and a sprinkle of prezzemolo (If you are nice I will share the secret ingredient)

October 2nd – Motorino

Aloha kakou e na hoa heluhelu

It’s the second day here in Roma and today was quite the adventure. Let me tell you about my very first Motorino ride, which happened to be yesterday. After walking around for hours waiting to see Cristoforo (Alohalani’s son) we came upon a motorino rental store. A motorino is what we call a moped at home. It looks the same as any other moped only the folks here in Italy have their own rules for motorino drivers. Before I launch into this story, let me preface with facts. Fact #1,
have never driven a moped before…. Ever. Fact #2, I’ve never ridden a moped before either. My only recollection of a moped in my younger years was kind of tragic. I remember my father once got on a moped and started down a small hill then at the bottom he hit the gravel and then got thrown onto the pavement. So when we walked into this store, that was the
story that was swimming around in my head. But I figure, when in Rome… right?
Anyway, the rental agent handed us some head panties which were to be placed into the helmets to keep us from getting ukus or something. I’m not sure. I just did it. I climb on to the motorino first because I’m the one
being packed along. Alohalani is the driver. We don our head pantied helmets and zoom…. Off we go. I had a grin from ear to ear but then I remember the number one rule for motorcycle riding which is….. Shut your

mouth or you’re gonna eat bugs.
Then we get into traffic and the grin disappeared. There are no rules for motorinos. They zip in and out, up and down, between cars, in front of buses, in back of trucks and side by side other crazy ass motorino-ans. I decided I would only look to the side and not forward. BIG mistake. Then I thought maybe I should trust in Alohalani’s skills which I did and then all I could do was cling on to the side bars or Alohalani. The only problem was that I hadn’t put away my camera or the camera bag so one hand was to hold those, and the other was to grip on the side bar. Then my knees went into horse rider mode and clamped down onto the sides of the seat. My thoughts were, “it is better to take the fall than to lose my camera an

y day.” We zipped in and out of traffic, zoomed forward, switched back and forth like the z trails on the Waipi’o valley face or the Makali’i tacking on the sea. Hawaiians on motorinos like we were navigating ourselves through the rough Pailolo channel. We got back in one piece exhilarated and wind blown.
Today was my second day on the motorino and we actually were zipping along on highways, back alleys and street corners full of people, historical sites and cobblestones that have memories of horse drawn chariots. So this time I was ready. Camera bag on back…. check. Camera around the neck… check. And stink eye for any car brazen enough to honk at us, Va fan culo!…Check! I love learning Italian swear words……
The only complaint I have is that I still cannot get off the motorino without getting my legs stuck on some part of the seat. Shit….. So much for ack’ing cool….. Tomorrow will be another day of dashing and flashing through cobblestone streets and historical sites. I think I’ll do some yoga before I get on the motorino. Buno Fortuna, Tsa!
Ciao ciao Gangeh!
Kalei Nu’uhiwa
(c) 2009 Kalei Tsuha

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  • Na Lei Aloha:: October 2nd http://bit.ly/NInw2 #
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  • No sleeves-must be warm! #
  • @alohalani said: I took Kalei on her very FIRST moped ride ever – and right in the middle of Roman traffic. #

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