Everything was on schedule last week for my mother’s flight home to the Big Island following her holiday visit. We arrived at Lihu‘e Airport early, which was no small task considering she threw her back out a couple days prior
Everything was on schedule last week for my mother’s flight home to the Big Island following her holiday visit. We arrived at Lihu‘e Airport early, which was no small task considering she threw her back out a couple days prior and was traveling with two service dogs, two dog carriers and two large pieces of luggage.
When I pulled up to the curb in front of Hawaiian Airlines, I summoned a waiting porter — one of the nicest and most helpful I’ve ever met — who gingerly maneuvered her luggage from the trunk, collected her travel documents and told us he would “be right back.”
My mother swung open the passenger side of the car and, from the front seat, began leashing her service dogs and giving them commands while I prepared the dog carriers from the curb. Before releasing the hounds, she searched her purse for a tip for the sky cap and asked me what I thought was appropriate.
That’s when things got weird. A curbside security staff member in an orange vest walked up behind me and asked what we were doing. I said we were still unloading.
“No you’re not,” he said in an accusatory tone. Motioning toward the sky cap’s empty post, he said, “I saw him take your bags.”
I explained that I was still unloading the service dogs, as well as my mother, who chimed in that she was disabled.
“You’re not unloading,” he shot back. “Your bags are gone!”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, bewildered, as I negotiated one of the blue-vested service dogs into their soft carrier on wheels, the other still in the car. “As you can see, I’m unloading the dogs.”
It’s always been my understanding that the loading zone is for the loading and unloading of passengers — not just their luggage.
In the middle of the strange exchange, the sky cap returned and handed my mother her boarding pass and explained he had moved her seat assignment from the back to the front of the plane to help ease her situation.
After wrestling dog No. 2 into its temporary dog house, I noticed a different security guard, a younger one, standing next to me.
“There,” I said with a sigh, “all done.” The first guard had stepped aside, so I queried the new one, “What’s his name?”
He told me.
I gave a quick goodbye hug to my mother, pulled my car keys from my pocket and walked over to guard No. 1.
“People don’t like being called liars in so many words. Tourism is most important to our economy, so it’s important to show some aloha to visitors,” I said.
“You’ve got to give aloha to get aloha,” he said.
“Exactly,” I said as I walked away with a smile. “I’m glad you understand that.”
As I got into my car, I saw the two guards walk over to my 60-year-old mother. I overheard her politely, yet proudly say to them as I pulled away, “My daughter is the business editor for the newspaper, and she knows how important tourism is on Kaua‘i.”
Ah, moms.
I called her later that day to make sure she returned home safely, and she related to me what had transpired after I left. According to Mom, she had attempted to explain to the two guards that she was disabled, which was why it was taking her a little longer to unload.
They flat out called her a liar, she said, and accused her of “talking story” rather than unloading.
She said she decided she wasn’t going to participate in such a ridiculous conversation any longer and walked away toward the TSA screening area. The younger guard decided to follow a few feet behind her, repeatedly saying, “You’re not special,” Mom told me.
This story is not unique. During the past year, I’ve heard similar complaints about (non-screening) airport staff and airline policies. Sometimes the complaint is from locals, sometimes from tourists.
When I was young, I worked in Hawai‘i’s tourism sector on Maui. I understand the genuine effort it takes to live aloha 24-7, especially when dealing with clueless or grumpy people.
I applaud Kaua‘i’s excellent service-sector employees, many of whom are overworked, underpaid and doing their best to express aloha and graciousness on our little island.
Meanwhile, resorts have spent millions on renovations to attract tourists, and the county has given more than $1 million in taxpayer funds to the Kaua‘i Visitors Bureau in an effort to promote the Garden Isle to the world as a place of beauty, tranquility and rejuvenation.
But what I’m talking about in this (my first TGI) column is something more basic, more fundamental, that is possibly being overlooked.
Travel has become more restrictive, inconvenient, expensive and invasive every year since 9/11. All it takes is a couple of rude security guys at Lihu‘e Airport — a visitor’s first and last stop on Kaua‘i — and they won’t be back. Not only that, they’ll tell their friends, family and neighbors about it, and they won’t visit either. They’ll choose some other Hawaiian island or some other state, instead.
By they way, ever notice how a lot of Hawai‘i’s popular old retro paintings and photos show locals warmly greeting visitors with a lei as they disembark from an airplane? Think about it.
• Vanessa Van Voorhis, staff writer, can be reached at 245-3681, ext. 251, or by emailing vvanvoorhis@thegardenisland.com.
