Over the last week, I’ve watched as officials urge to limit gatherings to 100…50…now 10 people. We’ve listened as they’ve instructed us to practice ‘social distancing’ and avoid going out. The news continues to churn out reports of major cities, counties, states, and even entire countries going on lockdown. I have begun to hear the first whispers of storefronts closing here on Maui. Each night I have gone to bed expecting tomorrow to be the day everything hits the fan in Hawai’i.

But each day as I arrive in Pā’ia Town for work, there are dozens of tourists wandering the street, piling into Pā’ia restaurants, bunching up at the stoplight waiting to cross Hāna Highway, wandering into shops and restaurants in packs. County parks are closed, but that hasn’t stopped the daily wave of visitors from flowing into the rural east Maui town of Hāna. Even though the only confirmed cases on Maui have come from visitors staying at bustling resorts, tourists continue to join the other guests and gather around their hotel pool.

Because apparently, ‘social distancing’ doesn’t apply to those on vacation, and the $190 round trip flights from the West Coast aren’t helping the situation.

Here’s the thing: Hawai’i is dealing with a very complicated catch-22. On one hand, tourism is the lifeblood of the Hawaiian economy. Upwards of 200,000 jobs rely on the tourism machine- including my mom, my boyfriend, my best friend, and myself. Cutting off the flow of visitors would be detrimental to a lot of people. However, a COVID-19 spread in the state would be arguably even worse.

Hawai’i has one of the greatest concentrations of multi-generational families living together under one roof. It’s not uncommon for Hawai’i residents to share a house with their children, their parents, and their grandparents. With so many visitors continuing to visit Hawai’i, combined with the number of people who work in the visitor industry, it is only a matter of time before we see it begin to spread through our homes and into our community. And when that happens, it is going to be very, very bad.

On Maui, we only have one small hospital that is already experiencing a physician shortage. If an outbreak begins, we simply would not have the resources to deal with it. Not to mention, the rural community and popular visitor destination of Hāna in East Maui is about a two-hour drive from the hospital, and medical resources in the area are limited.

Across the United States, cities are on lockdown. But as of today, it’s business as usual here in Hawai’i. Our beaches are packed with tourists, our towns are bustling, tour operations are in full swing, only helping to facilitate the spread of the virus. Social media is flooded with posts from visitors about taking advantage of cheap flights and discounted hotels, people bragging about how they took their ‘work from home’ orders as a reason to take a vacation. Of course, these same people are trying to justify it by telling themselves they’re helping our economy. And honestly, it’s disgusting.

At this point, we would rather see our economy temporarily plunge than put our people at risk, put our kūpuna in danger, and stretch our medical services too thin. If we close up shop and stay inside for two weeks and nothing happens, that means we’ve done our job well.

As I write this from my home in Haʻikū, I continue to hear planes passing overhead- and it makes my blood boil. I am not alone in feeling this way, many residents are exasperated and at a loss for the number of visitors who continue to selfishly travel here, and angry at the Hawaiian government for recklessly continuing to let this happen. I have heard rumblings of plans to organize people to drive around the airport with signs taped to their cars urging people to go home. I even feel like standing on the corner of Airport Access Road holding a sign to let every visitor taking advantage of this grave situation know that they are not welcome. But instead, I chose to stay home and write this article. Because ultimately, it’s not about me. I’m young and healthy, but I wouldn’t know what I would do with myself if I passed COVID-19 onto someone who is not.

And you should feel the same way.

8:07 am — January 13th, 2018

I was pulled from a deep sleep by an obnoxious tone blaring from my phone. Half asleep, I fumbled over my nightstand, hoping to silence what I figured what a flash flood warning notification - something that is common in my area during winter.

When I finally located my phone, the words that flashed on the screen jolted me awake in an instant. “BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO HAWAII. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”

Inbound. This is not a drill.

Although Hawaii had recently resumed the testing of the civil defense sirens that would warn residents of an incoming missile attack amid rising tensions with North Korea, nothing could have prepared me for this. I figured, as had the rest of Hawaii, that this was just a precautionary measure, that Kim Jong Un or Trump would never actually escalate things to the point where Hawaii would be the target of a nuclear attack. I wondered what had changed overnight? What had happened in the 8 hours that we had been asleep that prompted this? In a moment, over a million people were catapulted into a different reality entirely, one in which war, nuclear fallout, destruction, and possibly death were imminent.

I shook my boyfriend awake, thrusting my phone into his face, “Look at this, what do you we do?!” I could hear the hysteria in my own voice as he sat up and in bed, wide eyed and silent.

Only a minute had passed since I had received the alert, but time seemed to have stopped. My thoughts were moving at a rate of speed that I had never experienced. I jumped out of bed and slammed all the windows with shaking hands. “What do I do? I don’t know what to do!” I kept saying as panic bubbled out of me.

Three minutes after the alert I spoke to my parents, who told me not to worry as they had not received the alert. Naturally, I continued to worry. Two minutes after that my dad called me back and in a somber tone told me that this was indeed happening.

My boyfriend and I began filling our bathtub with water, along with any buckets, bottles, and empty trash cans we could find. My hands were shaking so hard that I couldn’t fill anything without spilling. I took a seat on our bed in an attempt to catch my breath. I had never been more aware of my own heart beat, it’s violent beats threatening to break through my chest. I started to hyperventilate.

This is it.

I have lived a privileged life, it’s was only a matter of time until something like this happened to me.

So many people are about to die

Some of those people could be us —

I stopped myself after that thought. “Think rationally,” I told myself. It was likely that our small town on Maui would not be targeted. “There is a very good chance you will live through today. Although, our lives are about to change for a very long time, if not forever”. I heard our neighbors in the yard shouting “Wake up! The bomb is coming! Wake up!”

This wasn’t something that happened to people like us. This is the type of thing you heard about on the news. We lived in one of the most safe, isolated areas of the world. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be- but horrifyingly enough it was. Our reality was that there was a bomb heading our way and we didn’t know where it is going to land.

At this point 12 minutes had passed since the alert. It took 12 minutes to gather what we needed, say our I love you’s, and try our best to wrap our heads around what was happening. In the midst of the blur, I had a moment of clarity. I had never faced my own mortality like this, and although I was terrified a little part of me reached a point of acceptance that there was absolutely nothing I could do to change this situation. Overall, I was just grateful to be with the person I love most in the world. If I had to die today, at least I was by his side.

At 20 minutes, we stepped outside, retreating to our neighbors basement, stocked with food, water, and tools. With all the nuclear hype in the media during this time, I thought back to an article I had recently read, stating that if the alarm were to sound, Hawaii residents would have no more than 15 minutes to get underground to avoid the initial fallout. As we shut the door behind us and stepped into the sun, I glanced at the clear blue morning sky and wondered if it had hit already. Was there a surge of radiation heading our way? Something in me said nothing had happened yet, I could feel it. Just then our neighbor stepped outside and informed us the alert had been incorrect. False alarm. Human error. Someone in Emergency Management had sent more than a million people into a state of panic.

Rumors swirled across the state for months after the alert. The State’s official position was that it was an accident- however it took 38 minutes to send a follow up alert informing people that it was a false alarm. Some folks claimed a missile had actually been fired and the US had shot it down- some of these people had family stationed in Korea that confirmed this. Others claimed it was a false flag or hackers. Interestingly enough, Japan received a similar alert only one day after Hawaii, which turned out to be a false alarm as well, at least that is the Japanese government’s official position. It’s likely we will never know what actually happened that day.

Although the incident turned out to be false, for 38 minutes over a million people truly believed their lives were on the line. For many, life in an island paradise became a living hell. The news that night reported accounts of people climbing into storm drains with their kids to seek shelter.

Shortly after the alert, I headed to my job at a sports bar in a haze. My first customer of the day gave me a hard time because we couldn’t show their team’s game. I couldn’t believe it- two hours earlier, a million people were fearing for their life and/or their future, and now this guy was upset about a football game, of all things. That is when I felt it all shift.

When faced with what seems like inevitable demise, you truly evaluate your life and what is it worth. The most important thing I took away from those 38 minutes is to live the life you love. Do the things that make you happy. Appreciate the people you love, because you never know, tomorrow could be the end of the world. Be grateful every day, because the terror we felt in those 38 minutes is a daily thing for some.

Experts at the University of Hawaii recently announced that tourism in the islands has reached a crucial ‘tipping point’- although that statement seems long overdue. A study by Canadian University of Lethbridge concluded that, “although the tourism industry is critical for the Hawaiian economy, the current propensity to grow cannot be sustained.”

That study was released 12 years ago.

Today Maui alone sees nearly a million more visitors than in 2007, and our situation is far more dire. The level of tourism today is unsustainable and doing more harm than good.

Nowhere feels the affect of overtourism more than East Maui and the communities along the road to Hana.

The road to Hana is a narrow, winding, 52 mile stretch of road that serves as the lifeline between East and Central Maui. The road is the second biggest tourist attraction on the island. It is 52 miles of traffic, 52 miles of tourists blocking lanes by parking illegally, 52 miles of being stuck behind the same red Camaro convertible that won’t pull over, driving 10 mph with a GoPro pole hanging out the window. For locals who drive the road to Hana everyday, tacking on an hour of commute time isn’t always an option, and frustrations are at an all time high. (Don’t believe me? Check out @hanacantstandyou on Instagram.)

One will notice the overwhelming amount of visitors at the first stop along the road to Hana- Twin Falls. As a kid I spent my summers wandering barefoot around Twin Falls, hunting for secret pools with my friends. I haven’t been back for years. On a busy day, rental cars flood the small parking lot, leaving the overflow of cars to park along the highway for up to half a mile. There is no shoulder, cars sit half in the road while families with small children walk leisurely down the middle of the lane towards the falls- now imagine 52 miles of that. Thus, the Hana Highway Regulation was born. The Hana Highway Regulation team surveys the road and takes inventory of illegal parking and illegal tour operations.

Their findings show that the road to Hana is currently four times over capacity.

The rise of social media has also contributed to the exposure of spots previously regarded as secret or, in some cases, sacred. One of the Hana Highway Regulation’s efforts include posting signs advising visitors not to enter certain areas due to safety concerns, private property, or to curb people from entering sacred cultural grounds. These signs are often ignored.

Red Sand Beach in Hana was once a secluded beach, tucked away in a remote corner of Hana town. The only way to find it was to already know where it was. Visiting Red Sand Beach requires crossing private property. Locals used to get the “pass”, simply because the level of foot traffic was no where near what it is today. Before the formation of the Hana Highway Regulation, illegal tour companies would unload their guests in the area, instructing them to cross private property and navigate the sheer and slippery hike. Rescues in the area today are still frequent. In February of this year there were five water rescues within two days, including one fatality. Keep in mind these types of emergency rescues are paid for by Hawaii taxpayers. Rescues of this nature are so common that lawmakers are considering a bill that would tack on a hefty fee for rescues of those who had trespassed on private property.

Frustrations aside, the tourism fueled gentrification of Hawaii is real, and it’s getting worse. Economic conditions are already tough in Hawaii and the state is in the midst of a housing crisis.

Hawaii has the highest rate of homelessness and some of the highest rents in the country, largely thanks to tourism fueled interests like second homes and illegal vacation rentals. Currently one in three homes in Lahaina are vacation rentals, many of them illegal. Meanwhile, 70% of vacation rental owners live out of state. In 2017, 45% of homebuyers in Central and West Maui purchased “non-primary dwellings”, or vacation homes.

This has prompted many Hawaii born locals to seek out a more affordable life out of state. Las Vegas has become a favorite and has been dubbed the “ninth island”.

However the argument defending overtourism always seems to be the same: “You should be grateful for tourists, they’re spending money, they’re fueling your economy”- and this is absolutely true. Hawaii relies on tourism. Without tourism the biggest industry in the islands would likely be military.

But here’s the kicker: visitor spending in Hawaii, when adjusted for inflation, peaked in 1989.

1989. 30 years ago.

Over three million more people come to the islands now than in 1989, and what does Hawaii have to show for it?

As a Maui local, it is really hard not to be angry at the individual. Of course no one is at fault for taking a vacation. I’ve met some amazing visitors. The issues stem from the poor planning of the government and the relentless marketing of the Hawaii Tourism Authority.

However the sentiment towards visitors would be much different on Maui if everyone gave Hawaii, it’s culture, and it’s people the respect it deserves. While I don’t intend to over generalize since there are always generous and respectful people who come to the islands, some visitors seem to maintain an air of entitlement. Because they paid thousands of dollars to come to Hawaii, they believe they have a free pass to do whatever they please while on vacation. For example, during the government shutdown volunteers took time to educate visitors of proper etiquette while visiting Haleakalā National Park- a sacred cultural site. “We explained the code of conduct: don’t take anything away, stay on the trails, use the bathrooms, don’t litter,” said one volunteer in an interview with Maui Time. “Most people were positive towards us, but a few seemed to feel entitled, like they didn’t need to listen because we weren’t workers. That keeps me up at night; are people going to listen?”

I work in the tourism industry. I often hear visitors mocking Hawaiian words or customs. I often find myself picking up after visitors at Ho’okipa beach (usually plastic straws in coconuts from the fruit stand, patronized by tourists and tourists only.) Hawaii’s most famous Instagram, @hohungryhungryhawaiian routinely posts videos of visitors messing with turtles or monk seals, which are critically endangered- and later found to have evaded fines because DLNR doesn’t want to “ruin any vacations”. Each instance of disrespect feels like a pinprick to the soul.

But…we should be grateful right?

Perhaps if the year was 1989, but today’s level of tourism is detrimental and unsustainable.

If you’re thinking about coming to Hawaii, please remember that this land is so much more than a tourist attraction- it’s rooted in culture. It’s someone’s home.

Please do not treat Hawaii as if it is disposable. These islands do not exist solely for the enjoyment of tourists.

Please remember to be aware of your surroundings, things can still go wrong in paradise- they often do.

If traveling the road to Hana, please view Hana Highway Regulation’s code of conduct.

Do your research. Have a brief understanding of Hawaii’s history and how it came to be part of the United States and the hurt that followed. I promise it will help offer some insight.

Be aware of how your actions may affect the local people. If you’re unsure of something, ask a local’s advice. I always appreciate when someone asks me how to pronounce something rather than saying it wrong.

If you make an effort and treat Hawaii with the respect it deserves you will assuredly receive the warmest aloha.

Sources:

• Hawaii is reaching a 'tipping point' of overtourism
• Negative Impact of Tourism on Hawaii Natives and Environment :: Lethbridge Undergraduate Research Journal
• Maui Now: Maui Renters Need to Work 123 Hours a Week to Afford 2-Bedroom Apartment
• Maui Now: Study: Kahului Ranks in Top 10 Hottest Secondary Home Markets in Nation
• How much tourism can Hawaii handle? - Pacific Business News
• Activists say it's been the worst year when it comes to tourists harassing turtles
• Code of Conduct - Hana Highway regulation
• Essential but Unpaid: How the U.S. government shutdown is affecting Maui's residents
• Bill proposes fines, reimbursement from trespassing hikers who require rescue