CHAPTER 140

Original (Published in Evergreen News): 2012-04-10

Rewritten: 2026-03-24

In the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Heaven placed a shining pearl; the Americans forged it into a sword.

Before the doctor had approved my eligibility for a liver transplant, we seized the opportunity. While the spring air was still cool, we first traveled to the warm lands of Hawaii. By early summer, if a new liver had not yet arrived, we could head north to Alaska to “escape the heat.”

Hawaii is both a pearl and a sword. Heaven placed it in the center of the Pacific, and after the United States abolished the indigenous monarchy, it turned it into a sword pointing in all directions.

Among the 800 military bases the United States maintains outside its mainland, seventeen are located across the Hawaiian Islands.

As a pearl, it is richly endowed by nature, radiating brilliance. In times of peace, it attracts the attention of nations; visitors flock in droves. Through this window, people come to understand and admire the strength of the United States.

But when the global situation shifts, the U.S. can also use it as a strategic bridgehead, pointing its sword toward enemies from all directions.

At the end of 1941, Japan launched a surprise attack on Pearl Harbor. (A few days ago, the U.S. president brought up this past event in front of Japan’s first female prime minister. She had no response, only an awkward glance.) This attack made it world-famous and etched it permanently into history.

We boarded the USS Missouri, anchored in the harbor, and reflected on the scene where the leaders of Japan’s invading forces signed their surrender there. We also visited the simple yet solemn USS Arizona Memorial, paying tribute to the 1,100 officers and soldiers who, caught off guard by the sudden attack, were unable to fight back and were buried along with their ship beneath the seabed under the memorial.

To remind and humiliate Japan, the United States chose the day of the surrender signing to coincide with the centennial of when it had forced Japan to open its doors to the world. During the ceremony, a massive fleet of U.S. aircraft flew over Tokyo Bay, displaying the posture of a dominant power and reaffirming the hierarchy of strength.

Although Japan suffered greatly after its attack on Pearl Harbor, this pearl holds a special attraction for the Japanese and has become one of their favorite travel destinations.

People of Japanese descent make up 22% of Hawaii’s population. Together with the influx of Japanese tourists, one encounters Japanese people everywhere on the islands. Apart from television, I have never in my life seen so many Japanese people. Amid the crowds in Waikiki, I was even mistaken for one, with strangers speaking Japanese to me. Knowing Japanese here truly allows one to get by effortlessly.

Japanese ramen restaurants are everywhere in Waikiki, much like Hong Kong-style cafés in Richmond. Naturally, we had to sample authentic ramen. Even McDonald’s sells ramen here, which shows just how popular it is.

Chinese or Hong Kong-style fast food here is not good—greasy and unappetizing. Even the pigeons pecking at scraps on the ground often have missing feathers, which is quite off-putting.

Fortunately, there is authentic Korean barbecue: fragrant meat, fresh vegetables, and ample rice, which soothed our stomachs. Besides the many ramen shops, there are also 37 convenience stores in the tourist district bearing the “ABC” name, all owned by a Japanese boss—visitors can hardly avoid spending some money there.

After wandering for several days, we finally discovered, inside an ordinary Western restaurant on a street corner, an inconspicuous “hidden” passage at the back leading to a supermarket. We immediately took advantage of it, bought some ingredients, and cooked our own dinner that evening.

Had we known earlier that eight T-shirts were being sold for only twenty U.S. dollars, we would have held off buying six shirts for the same price two days before. Still, to suit the occasion, I bought an egg-yellow Hawaiian shirt and a white sun hat, transforming myself into an island local male .

The winds in Honolulu are strong, the waves high, the trees tall, and the ocean vast—light green in the shallows, deep blue in the depths, where sea and sky meet. The people are friendly and warm. Strolling along the beach and browsing luxury shops, it is easy to forget Pearl Harbor, lost in the tide of history.

The only drawback is the sand on the beaches—coarse and lacking luster, all dredged from deeper offshore and piled up along the coast as artificial beaches.

Because of the frequent strong winds, warning flags are often raised, prohibiting surfing. Yet this does not dampen the enthusiasm of surfing enthusiasts. Rain or shine, they persist in this physically demanding and highly skilled sport. With well-built muscles and an intense vitality, their sun-bronzed skin may appear rough, but their bodies are balanced and nearly perfect—truly admirable and awe-inspiring.