It took 15 hours to leave Tokyo and arrive in Kona, a town on the west coast of Hawaii Island. Traveling long distances brings with it a distinct heaviness. My desire to fall asleep was overcome by my curiosity about the restaurant recommended by my host, so I headed to Manago Restaurant, about a 10-minute drive away.
Facing the national highway, this restaurant is located inside a retro-style hotel run by the Manago family, a longtime resident of the area. Stepping into this wooden building, which has stood here for nearly 100 years, feels like turning back the clock.
Fans curve in the high ceiling, and incandescent lights cast a warm glow. Behind a single flower on the dining table, a window offers a view of the sky, tinted with the dawning of the evening.
I ordered the restaurant's specialty pork chop from the menu hanging on the wall, and soon a bowl of rice and three plates were brought to me on a cart. The plate contained potato salad, simmered tofu, and boiled beans. While the menu was typically Japanese, the fact that everything was served on a flat plate reminded me of a foreign land.
After getting used to the atmosphere, I looked around and noticed that half the dining area was made up of people who appeared to be Japanese, with families gathered around the table. It was Saturday. However, they were speaking English, and their expressions and clothing were different from Japanese, suggesting a different culture. Their tanned skin and flip-flops... They looked very similar, yet somehow different.
When traveling, I felt a mixture of excitement and a slight sense of anxiety, knowing I'd arrived somewhere far away. When I found myself in a place I hadn't known until yesterday, it felt as though my internal senses were heightened.
The sounds, the light, the smells, the people's gestures and smiles... Things I hadn't even noticed in my daily life in Tokyo were etched into my memory. Perhaps this is why travel memories are so vivid. With these thoughts in mind, tonight's dinner was brought to me.
The restaurant at the Manago Hotel has been preserved by people who long ago crossed the ocean from Japan to pioneer island life. It's a place similar to Japan, yet somehow different. Though they share the same roots, they have likely forged their own cultures after crossing historical divides.
While I feel nostalgic for this island, some 6,000 km across the ocean, I also realize that this place truly ties Japan and Hawaii together. That's what the dinner table taught me.
Now, I'll leave here and enjoy a deep sleep in my bed at the inn. Tomorrow, new encounters await.
