It feels like we've been here a lot longer than 3 weeks, yet it also feels like we just got here.
There is a daily rainbow to the west of us each morning around 8am. Today it lasted for well over an hour, becoming more and less intense over time. I had never seen a rinbow move before, but this one lasted long enough to indirectly watch the Sun's passage upward; the rainbow's transit got lower and lower toward the ground while drifting northward, in exact opposition to the Sun.
There is a libertarian streak to the politics here, but more of the liberal, free-to-be-you-and-me variety. Part of that culture is home-schooling, which I realize now often means no-schooling.
Saw a cardinal at the pool. Didn't know they had those here.
Today was our first real rainy day since getting here, which meant overcast skies and sprinkles on and off for about 5 hours. Considering this town's reputation, we've been lucky so far. The question is whether the past few weeks have been aberrant or typical.
Hawaii, or at least our area of Hilo on the Big Island, is a lot less buggy than the places I've lived in the northeast and mid-Atlantic. In the park, I can sit on the grass and have no ants or other critters come by. Nothing flies near my face, needing to be brushed away. However, the northeast and mid-Atlantic are much less lizard-y. We have not had any problems with the vermin that some complain about in tropical areas: rats & roaches. But we have had 3 geckos appear in the kitchen. They're cute and yellow and seemingly harmless, so I don't mind them.
Saw a duck rape another duck today.
At least, it did not look consensual.
The rapist duck was very ugly.
It took a long time for him to finish.
Maybe because I was watching.
Went to a local craft fair. There were lots of Christmas-themed things that seemed very out of place in the warm humid air with palm trees in the background.
We are not even remotely in the holiday spirit.
Coconut milk here is cheaper than cream, sour cream, buttermilk, yogurt, etc. so we're thinking of trying recipes substituting daily with coconut milk.
One thing I tried was what I call Hilo Coffee:
1 cup cold coffee
1 shot dark rum
1 tablespoon honey
1 shot coconut milk
mix well and serve with lots of ice
There is a meteor shower on the 17th but it is cloudy. We're planning a visit to the Mauna Kea observatory where we can see the sky.
Employees at the observatory are a presence in Hilo. I often see bumper stickers with in-jokes such as "Watch out for invisible cows"
It's common to have bright sunshine while it's raining. Sometimes it is a very pleasant sensation to have hot sunshine on my skin while simultaneously being pelted with cool raindrops.
I don't know if there is a name for the phenomenon but I call them sunshowers or rainshine.
I have a theory about why the Hawaiian language has so many fewer consonant sounds than English.
Specifically, the sounds in English that are not in Hawaiian tend to be what are called 'sibilants' or 'fricatives', the hissing sounds such as:
s, z, sh, ch, zh (as in 'pleasure' or 'treasure'), th, v, and f.
Traditionally, there has also not been a distinction between the letters k and t.
What these sounds all have in common is that they are masked by white noise, specifically by the sounds of water moving, the sound of waves.
Imagine being in a longboat a mile from shore and trying to have a conversation with someone 100 feet away in another boat.
It would be very hard to distinguish s from f snd sh, and k from t, and zh from v. As your language evolved, you would have pressure to rely more on the easily distinguished sounds, specifically vowels.
This would explain why the Hawaiian language has so much more distinction between how vowels are pronounced, at least in comparison to English.
Just with 'A' alone, Hawaiian has 'a' (ah), 'aa' (ah ah, the glottal stop is assumed when two adjacent vowels are the same), 'ā' (aah), 'āa' (aah ah), and 'aā' (ah aah).
This dependence on duration is easily explained by the seafaring scenario, where that kind of distiction of tone is more obvious.
The theory could be helped if we looked at different languages and see how they depend on sibilants and vowel duration.
A land-locked country, or one that does not have much of a seafaring tradition, would presumably have more reliance on fricative sounds.
Languages such as German and Arabic seem to fit this description.
I sat beneath a wide, shady tree today and had a thousand thoughts and I didn't write any of them down.
The volcano blueberry (Vaccinium reticulatum) is a favorite food of the nene, the Hawaiian goose. The berries range in color from dark red to pale yellow when ripe.
The lure of polytheism is easy to understand here. I feel the presence of Pele whenever it rains.
It rains at two times of day here: when it's hot and humid and everyone needs a 15-minute cool-down in the middle of the day; or in the middle of the night when everyone is already home and the world needs a good rinse.
This photo collection saves me some effort
We're eating in a lot more but so far what we make at home is significantly cheaper, healthier, and as tasty as we can get out.
At some point we crossed over from not knowing how to prepare tofu to knowing how. Generally, using less oil and salt actually makes everything easier: the tofu and vegetables don't get soggy or break apart or stick.
You can get pork schwarma here - a sign that kailua pork transcends the traditions of middle eastern cooking.
We're drinking lots and lots of iced coffee, sweetened with local honey. I had never thought about honey + coffee, but it's good.
Saw a duck scratching its head with its foot the way a dog does.
The pool here uses barely any chlorine - about as much as when you get tap water that has a faint chlorine smell. It's great for the eyes.
My guess is the tropical sunlight is strong enough to kill most algae or bacteria.
There is mold here after all, and mushrooms - but not at all at the scale seen in the mid-Atlantic
They don't seem to have lightning here, so swimming in the rain is no big deal here.
It seems funny now that we had to leave the pool or pond whenever it started to rain.
Visited the Vietnam memorial which happens to be in the park behind our building. Tasteful, eternal flame. Striking to see the photos of faces of young Asian men who died fighting a war in Asia on behalf of the US.
Made a quart and a half of guacamole for about $2 worth of ingredients. Ate it all in 2 sittings.
Frito-Lay's Scoops are $5.69 at Cost-U-Less and $2.79 at the KTA just a few blocks away.
How I can tell that we're not in a touristy town is that there are no tiki bars here. There is no place I've seen here with moai totems and thatch roofs and torches, that sells cocktails with umbrellas.
Were walking to the gardens when a horse walked out of the jungle. It was white, dirty, with a tattered rope around its neck. It just stared at us. I had nothing to give it so we kept walking.
As in Florida, the 1920s were an important time for development on the big island, as evidenced by the Art Deco lettering on the old Hilo Ironworks building.
I want a boat
Agricultural land on the mainland is prized if it has a lot of topsoil. Part of the legend of European settlers arriving in the plain states was their discovery that that the topsoil was more than a foot thick.
Around Hilo, agricultural land is prized if it has soil at all. The more recent (geologically speaking) lava plains are just rocks with barely anything for a root to grab a foothold in.
So, lilikoi is the same as passionfruit, which explains why I couldn't find any lilikoi in our box of passionfruit.
We've put ourselves on something of an austerity budget, partly to keep us focused on work and partly to keep us from just eating out every meal. There are not a lot of great restaurants, but there are enough good ones and they're nee to us and look interesting enough to make us want to explore them - and we have a small kitchen and a toddler who likes to get into everything. So it would be easy to spend a lot of money eating out, but we'll try to spend our money on the farmers market and limit our restaurant usage to twice per week.
Saturday is when the tourists get off the cruise ships and visit downtown. It hasn't been two weeks but I already feel contempt for the tourists. The streets and stores here are local people's places of business, their homes - but the tourists walk through like it's n experience that they paid for (which they did, although not to the local people) and are disappointed in.
Bought some local honey today. Beekeeping is a popular hobby/industry here, which does not surprise me given all the flowers here. I tasted some that was made exclusively from christmasberry blossoms - very tasty. There was a tasting competition at the bandstand (where all local gatherings seem to take place) of local beekeepers. It reminded me of Vermont except for the palm trees.
Used a porta-potty today. There were a few available and at one was a Buddhist monk, in his red and yellow robes, just stepping out. I assued that the porta-potty that had just been used by a monk would be less nasty than the others so I went in. It may have been less nasty than the others, but it was still nasty.
Someone had made some graffitti inside and below that was written,"Kill the haoles" and then a smiley face next to that. Racism, Hawaii style.
I am sensitive to my being an interloper here. The Hawaiian people's identity is tied to the geography here in a way that no other American group is. Even native American tribes have been displaced to the point where their ancestral homeland is not the place they live now.
I sometimes felt like an interloper when I lived in Harlem, but that has been a largely black neighborhood for only a few generations, and the place is not an essential part of African-American culture. Most American blacks have never even been there. But Hawaii is an essential part of the Hawaiian culture, and I often feel that I'm intruding.
Not having a car may soon be a drag. We are close to exhausting the list of places we can walk to so we are looking at lots of repeat visits to places moving forward.
That is not so bad, but I'm used to having every day be very different, as it's been for the past 4 months, so I'm going to have to adjust to being in the same place for a while.
Went ukulele shopping today. The cheapest were about $45 and the most expensive were a few thousand. They all look very nice, but I want something more like a toy that I can bang around and not have to treat with much care.
In may ways, Hilo is not like Honolulu. There are no ABC stores with macnuts and musubi and cheap ukuleles. The music stores here are serious.
Despite the reputation surfing has, the primary sport/leisure activity around here seems to be fishing - with a rod and reel.
There are lots of fish in the tidal ponds behind our building.
Saw some people catching butterflies yesterday. It seemed a throwback to an old Victorian hobby, although these people were dressed normally. I realized they were probably illegally poaching rare butterflies for lepidopterists.
There were 2 grey-and-white cats sitting in the jungle-y verge watching them - it looked very much like a Rousseau painting.
There was a 3rd cat, a black one, lurking by the side. I had walked past it before I had noticed it. What happens when you cross the path of a black cat?
I remembered a few other things the lady from Wednesday grows on her farm: betel nut and cloves. The leaves of the clove tree are pleasantly fragrant.
This is the only place I've ever lived where it's possibly to be truly a locavore. It's nice to have coffee roasted locally, or a local ice cream shop that makes its own chocolate, but the benefit is outweighed by the fact that the coffee and chocolate and vanilla and cinnamon, etc. were grown thousands of miles away.
The news is broadcast an hour earlier here in the morning and evening, which is still 4 hours after it was first broadcast. So we have until 8am to get our morning news, which we listen to while eating our passionfruit and quinoa pancakes and drinking our coffee. By 8am the sunlight is already very bright so breakfast feels more like lunch sometimes.
There seems to be a lot of fear-mongering these days, people wringing their hands over the Obama re-election, the stock market, the 'fiscal cliff', the Mayan calendar, etc. But it's hard to be fearful of anything here.
There is no mining on the Hawaiian islands because there is no ore. The only kind of rock is volcanic. So, certain resources are scarcer and thus more precious here. That means that some types of recycling are more profitable here than other places. Aluminum, for example, is in demand and it is cheaper to harvest the empty cans that are here anyway than to ship in aluminum from elsewhere. As such, some redemption centers are in competition with each other for empty aluminum cans. And although the state mandates a $0.05 redemption fee on each can, some redemption centers pay up to ¢6.5
Buddhism is more popular here than elsewhere I've been, but it's not the kind of religion that young, privileged white kids say they are while smoking weed and eating tofu. The Buddhism practiced here by people of Asian ancestry is more like Catholicism or religion anywhere, with regular holidays and traditions and special meals.
I learned that a Buddhist temple is called a betsuin.
Went to a supposedly cheap grocery store that specializes in chips and cereal and other packaged foods. It's the only store I've been to here that had mostly packaged foods and I realized that it looks like a 'regular' grocery store. The prices seemed high, a bag of corn chips was over $5 and most other things were more expensive than I recalled them being on the east coast. This is why some people say prices here are high, because Bugles and chocolate Cheerios are definitely more expensive. but if you don't eat that stuff than prices are actually cheap.
Sometimes certain songs become closely associated with places. There was one elevator I used to wait for and I would always end up humming the main theme from Peter and the Wolf. When we visited Hawaii last, we both kept singing the No Doubt song, "Walking in a Spider Web". Now the song seems to be the Eurythmics' "Here Comes the Rain Again"
There is an anything-goes wild-west attitude here sometimes. I'm reminded of a story I heard of a man who lived in the Aleutian islands (due north of here) who got a letter from the IRS saying he owed back taxes, to which he replied, "Come and get it."
We are at the outer reaches of the empire.
Didn't think it was possible but I've had my fill of avocado for a while. It just tastes like eating butter now.
This is a place that has leaf-blowers, the worst noise-polluters I know. A guy across the street blew leaves across a parking lot for about two hours, starting at 6:30am. I don't know what's wrong with a rake and a broom. It looked like there were only about 200 individual leaves he was blowing around. He could have picked them up by hand more quickly. I hate those things.
Found a little yellow lizard hiding under the coffee table when we got home. It was so cute I wanted to just let it run around.
A small kitchen has forced us to become very tidy. For example, we have a toaster that lives in a cupboard and we pull it out and plug it in only when we need it.
One feature of the Hawaiian language is the limited number of phonemes, only about 12 if I recall, while standard American English has over 40. A consequence of this is that words need to be longer since the list of possible 1- or 2- or 3-syllable words in Hawaiian is much shorter than a similar list of English words.
A common way of lengthening words here is by doubling certain parts of the word. For example, 'meha' means 'quiet', while 'mehameha' means 'very quiet', or possibly 'lonely' or 'deep in contemplation' depending on the context. ('Ka' is the article, 'the', which makes King Kamehameha's name mean, 'The Very Quiet' or possibly the 'The Contemplative One')
This doubling of words for emphasis has made its way into English here, and I've already found myself adopting its use. For example, there is the tall tree, but over there is the tall tall tree.
a - ah
e - eh
i - ee
o - oh
u - oo
The capital city, Honolulu is not pronounced 'HAH nuh LEW lew' but 'Hoh noh loo loo'
The ukulele is not pronounced 'YOU kuh LAY lee' but 'Oo koo leh leh'
and the glottal stop. Hawaiian doesn't have smooth diphthongs as in English, the individual consonants are pronounced distinctly. Consecutive vowels that are the same get a glottal stop in between.
While a double a ('aa') in Dutch gets a different pronunciation, in Hawaiian it's pronounced 'ah ah'.
It's interesting to me that Hawaiian developed a good number of the labial sounds but not the dentals. Say the letters 'm' and 'p' in succession. Now say the letter 'n'. Couldn't you imagine coming up with the letter 'd' or 't;?
One of the histories I read of Hawaii had this line:
"1827: The American whaling ship "Wellington" introduces mosquitos to Hawaii. They had had an unsuccessful trip, so their barrels were still full with water instead of fat. They dumped the mosquito infected water in a river and replaced theirs, so they unwittingly introduced the mosquito to Hawaii. First Catholic missionaries arrived."
So mosquitoes and Catholics have equal pedigree here.
I redacted a chunk of my post from yesterday where I gave details about an ongoing murder investigation. I wanted to preclude any complaints.
There are lots of DUI arrests here, and quite a lot of traffic accidents. And there are drunken stabbings and other nonsense. But when you hear about something really nasty, such as violent premeditated murder, it seems typically to be commited by white people. They give haoles a bad name.
I was wrong about the avocado. Man, that stuff is good.
The culture of missionaries is still alive here. More than in other parts of the country, you find here people determined to save the godless heathens, to protect them from their ignorance, etc. It comes in the form of TV evangelists and men on the street with anti-Obama placards, trying to convince us that he's a socialist anti-christ (never mind that Jesus was indisputably a socialist). Seeing that was a real surprise here, given how popular Obama is in Hawaii, and it seemed to display a real contempt for the people. But I've found that there is a minority of people here who seem to love Hawaii while hating Hawaiians.
That seems horrible, yet that's how I feel about New York sometimes.
Sriracha is known on the east coast mostly because of one brand, that sells plastic bottles of the stuff with a picture of a rooster on the bottle. I've even heard some people call it "rooster sauce" or "red rooster sauce".
But like ketchup or mustard or any other condiment, each brand has its own recipe, and because of the range of Asian influences on food here, there are many types of sriracha to try. I had one kind tonight from a malaysian company that is a bit sweeter with a thinner consistency than rooster sauce.
It went very well on the fried rice I made in an effort to use leftovers. I think fried rice will be a common "refrigerator velcro" (to use one of Alton Brown's phrases) here.
The energy of New York can be like caffeine; just walking around the city can be energizing, with a crash later. Hilo is the opposite. It is sometimes so peaceful here that walking around makes me feel like I have a slight buzz.
I needed quarters for laundry (it feels regressive to be doing coin-op laundry again). I went to the bank next door and stood behind a guy at the bank today who was trying to open an account with his lady friend who had no ID of any kind. They both looked like burnouts and I concluded that there are probably a lot of people without ID here, living off the grid with little money and no insurance.
There is a measurement, like I.Q., called Life Skills that some people have more than others. And there is a kind of Peter Principle of geography - people tend to migrate where their life skills are at the level of incompetency. To live in New York City, you need a lot of life skills an those who can't make it step down to the next level, the suburbs or a smaller city. And those who can't hack that level down again until you get to a place like Hawaii, where living takes almost no life skills. Of course, you have people at every level who are not at the level of their incompetence, who choose to have an easy life in the islands or the burbs instead of a stressful life elsewhere, but you do find more low-life-skill people in warm climates.
Stalin was not Russian, he was from Georgia, yet he was the face of brutal leadership in Soviet Russia. Hitler was not an Aryan German, he was a dark-featured Austrian leading the German Nazis. King Kamehameha was not from Oahu, he was from the Big Island (from Hawi, where we spent a few very pleasant nights about 5 years ago) but he united the islands for the first time, under an iron fist, with the help of Portuguese guns, and drove his detractors off a cliff in 1795, just 70 years before Mark Twain visited.
I asked our landlady how old she thought I was and she said, "48?" I protested and she explained how in Asian cultures only very old men grow beards, so anyone with a beard looks older.
We went to a lunch party today. The lady has 9 acres overlooking Hilo Bay. Years ago, for tax reasons she started planting fruit trees, which meant she can declare the land as agricultural instead of purely residential. She now has hundreds of plants and trees, growing mango, passionfruit, avocado, guava, mangosteen, jackfruit, pomelo, orange, kumquat, lots of other things I can't remember, and lilikoi growing all around the perimeter. She also has a "thai herb garden" with three types of basil and some hot peppers, as well as many fragrant flowers including tropical varieties of gardenia and jasmine. We strolled the grounds and everywhere was an opportunity to pull off a leaf, break it, and smell the fragrance.
Saw the first mosquitoes of the trip. They seem to only be around farms. In town there are none.
The biggest problem, according to the people there, was wild pigs that dig up the roots. So she had an electric fence placed about 6 inches off the ground to deter them.
The meal was a feast of turkey, duck, pork, curries, pad thai, papaya salad, and other things. This was just lunch with a few friends, but I've had plenty of thanksgiving dinners that had less food and less care put into the food.
One lesson I learned is that avocados should have smooth skin. If the skin is wrinkled then it was picked before it was ripe. Wrinkled was the only kind I had ever seen before we got here. Avocado will continue to ripen after it's picked, so it's not so bad to get the wrinkled ones, but the fresh ones do taste batter. It's a bit like a tomato that ripens on the vine as opposed to one that ripens on the windowsill.
We left with three shopping bags full of fruit and avocado - enough to have our own stall at the farmers market.
I don't know what we can do with it all. Our breakfasts are certainly going to be even healthier than they have been.
Bought a bouquet of flowers this morning that would have cost around $50 back east. It was $6 here.
There is a sinister side to this part of the world. At first I was shocked and disappointed that my vision of paradise could be besmirched by knowledge of violence, but I'm also a little fascinated by it. I learned a tip today: if you need to get rid of a body, dump it in the cane fields on the slope of the volcano; it will be months before anyone finds it.
There does not seem to be a mold/mildew problem here, despite the rain and humidity. My guess is that the near-constant trade winds prevent spores from landing anywhere they could get a foothold. This could also partly explain why there has not traditionally been a culture of fermentation here (bread, wine, beer, cheese, yogurt, sauerkraut, etc.). The lack of grain and milk is a more obvious explanation, but even since the introduction of those things, those foods are less common here. Also fewer (as in, none that I've seen) mushrooms.
I must have posted twice at some point because this is our 8th day here, not our 9th.
Election day is very different here. I didn't see any evidence anywhere that today was any different except that the elementary school was closed, as is the tradition/law here.
I'm used to staying up until after 1am to see how the race is called, but it was 6:14pm when it was called tonight.
It's easy to see how Hawaiians would feel marginalized. Every election is called hours before the polls here have even closed. And by the time the local elections are called here, the east coast media has gone to sleep. We don't know yet whether Linda Lingle, the former governor, won the senate race although her opponent, Mazie Hirono, is expected to win.
The difficulty of having so many exotic (to me) fruits available is that I have no idea how to tell when they're ripe. I've opened many too early or too late.
And how best to open them is not always obvious, either.
One quality of the frequent rainbows here is that they often appear very close, as close as 1/10th of a mile or so. I've seen rainbows that were in between me and buildings two blocks away.
The sunrise begins with the peak of Mauna Kea beginning to glow and the light spreads down from there over the course of nearly 2 hours. By then everything is bathed in sunlight
The default weather here is good. Despite being the rainiest city in the U.S. it's actually not all that rainy. We've had one rainy day since we got here.
The difference is in the volume of rain when it does happen. I think the raindrops are just bigger.
A cliche is, "as bored as a weatherman in Hawaii", and with good reason. The 10-day forecast at any time of the year looks like:
The slight deviations are what weather forecasters here get excited about and usually have to do with the trade winds, and whether they are blowing the right way.
The rightway is toward us, blowing out the humidity.
Reliant on daily NOAA reports, e.g.:
MORE GENERALLY...TRADE WINDS WILL RETURN TO THE STATE FROM LATE
SUNDAY NIGHT INTO TUESDAY AS RIDGING REBUILDS THROUGH MOST OF THE
ATMOSPHERE. EVENTUALLY...OROGRAPHIC FORCING WILL SQUEEZE OUT A
LITTLE RAIN OVER WINDWARD SLOPES...BUT THE DRY AIR MASS PERSISTING
OVER THE STATE WILL NOT SUPPORT MUCH SHOWER DEVELOPMENT UNTIL
The ohana culture here is very different from what I'm used to. In New York, if you're not at least a little pushy, people walk all over you. Here, it's like everyone gets the family discount.
It's as though everyone is related, maybe distantly, but still family - so that when you see someone (anyone) in a store or on the street, you talk as though you're restarting a conversation you had with them a week or so ago. Even if you've never seen them before.
It's very comforting.
Bought a pair of overpriced orthopedic sandals today. It feels like an even bigger commitment than the plane tickets or signing the lease.
Already planning our anxiety when watching the election results tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the pizza: http://bigislandpizza.com/
Went to Onekahakaha beach today, it's good for keiki because the breakers keep the big waves from the shore. I could have stayed there all day, just watching the turquoise water and the waves crash against the sand.
Met a guy from New Orleans today. He compared Hilo to New Orleans in terms of its laid-back/laissez-faire style. Like most people here he was a booster for the town.
About a third of the people we've communicated with regarding the move to Hawaii have made a reference to mai tais.
Hawaii does not have a rum culture, as far as I can tell (although someone should start a pineapple brandy distillery here) and the connection to rum has to do with tourists' associations between islands in the Caribbean and the Pacific.
And bars here surely play up that angle, since drunk tourists spend mroe money, but cocktail culture and rum specifically, while definitely part of the culture of the Atlantic tropics, are not a part of the Pacific tropics.
People here drink cheap beer.
Maui brewery has a coconut porter that may just be my new favorite beer. I had been concerned that I wouldn't be able to find good dark beers here. My logic was that the warm weather would make people only want light lagers.
But I was wrong. There are very good dark, strong, flovorful beers here. Craft brewing is alive and well in Hawaii.
According to: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mai_tai
It was purportedly invented at the Trader Vic's restaurant in Oakland, California in 1944. Trader Vic's rival, Don the Beachcomber, claimed to have created it in 1933 at his then-new bar named for himself (later a famous restaurant) in Hollywood. Don the Beachcomber's recipe is more complex than that of Vic's and tastes quite different.
"Maita'i" is the Tahitian word for "good"; but the drink is spelled as two words, sometimes hyphenated or capitalized.
The Trader Vic story of its invention is that the Trader (Victor J. Bergeron) created it one afternoon for some friends who were visiting from Tahiti. One of those friends, Carrie Guild, tasted it and cried out: "Maita'i roa ae!" (Literally "very good!", figuratively "Out of this world! The Best!") - hence the name.
In my experience, however a mai tai can be pretty much any drink that is primarily rum and fruit juice, but it has to be tropical fruit and not just orange.
So guava and orange and light rum could be called a mai tai (and is at some bars), similarly, dark rum and lime juice and pineapple juice could (and is) called a mai tai.
In this regard, a mai tai is indistinguishable from a "hurricane" - popular in New Orleans - except traditionally a hurricane is made with passionfruit juice, giving the drink a distinctive red color.
The "official" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IBA_Official_Cocktail) recipe calls for:
40ml (8 parts) white rum
20ml (4 parts) dark rum
15ml (3 parts) orange curaçao
15ml (3 parts) Orgeat syrup
10ml (2 parts) fresh lime juice
This makes for a heavier drink, not just juice and rum - more like a sweeter version of a Manhattan, in my opinion
I can't find the curaçao or orgeat anywhere around here so I may have to do the simplified version of rum and OJ