“Shangri La” is a former private home of a multibillionaire heiress turned into Islamic art museum, built right by the cliff overseeing the ocean by Diamond Head. It’s one of my favorite places to surf, because of the beautiful landscape that allows me to “feel” wild nature when surfing. This mansion has many interesting stories. The owner blew up part of the cliff to build a harbor for her luxury boat to dock, which would be illegal today. This “harbor” became a popular playground, where the water is so shallow that those who jump off frequently get hurt and even some paralyzed. The city is planning to re-construct back to it’s original form.

Today the mansion is open for tours, that starts and ends from the Honolulu Art Museum downtown. As I wait for the bus, I notice that there are over a dozen Japanese visitors mostly elderly people waiting. When the small shuttle bus arrives and visitors start to board, I notice an old gentleman in his 70-80s, helping his wife up the four small but inconvenient steps. His wife seems to have some physical disability, and he’s lifting her up by her belt to step up the stairs. He’s perfectly comfortable and loving in doing so. He does this all the time, and is not annoyed or frustrated. I’m warmly surprised seeing a Japanese old gentleman helping his wife so warmly. I guess I just expected that older wives would take care of their husbands when they need assistance, not the other way around. Unconscious bias busted.

I decide to attend the brief English guided tour not the Japanese one, hoping that it would have more flexibility for me to wander off. I wanted to spend time looking at the waves and the infamous harbor/cliff situation. I stepped away from the groups exploring the luxurious rooms in the mansion, and walked out to the beautiful garden. The view is stunning, and I can check the waves right from here. I’ve already surfed in the morning, but the waves tempt me to ditch the tour and just go surf.

There’s a small picnic table with an umbrella, where a cute elderly Japanese couple is also enjoying the view. I noticed them from the bus ride, the elderly gentleman who was helping his wife. The wife is seated at the picnic table, and the husband is trying to take a photo of her, asking her to look at his iPhone. I noticed that the wife may have something along the lines of dementia and trouble speaking. The gentleman is so sweet and loving. Seeing them warms my heart and reminds me of my late grandfather who loved to take photographs of the family. I ask in Japanese if they’d like a photo together. The gentleman looks genuinely happy and smiles like a teenage boy. “We rarely have photos together, arigato.” I snap a photo then notice that a hat is hiding her face. “Maybe better to move the visor a little?” He fixes her hat and we take another photo. He says “I’m sorry she has a hard time talking, but she says arigato.” As I walked away, I see them sitting side by side, him holding her hand so kindly and lovingly. I snap a photo and continue my tour.

My grandfather passed away in his mid 70s, a little too early for my 10+ year younger grandmother. He had a type of leukemia, and spent his last days at home surrounded my family. One of the last memories with him was at the dinner table. Aunties, uncles, cousins, my parents and sister. Everyone was smiling, laughing, creating a happy atmosphere for the last days of my grandpa’s life. He took out his camera, and asked us to gather around for a big family photo. My baby cousin tickled another cousin to make her laugh. We all giggle. I remember my grandpa’s tear behind his camera. He loved to take photos. He had a small darkroom behind his office and had all these cool cameras. He’d always been the family photographer, the main model was always my grandmother. If my grandparents they were in their 80s together, I could imagine them traveling together and enjoying the view. Not sure they would be holding hands, but even if one of them were disabled, I wonder if they’d be traveling together like that. I felt my chest warm up, stomach choke a bit, getting teary and warm both at the same time.

My original plan was to ditch the tour at the mansion and go straight home, but the Shangri La had a guarded gate and didn’t let me do that. I reluctantly rode back to the museum, and decided to treat myself lunch at the museum cafe. As I start my tasty Charred Ahi Niçoise Salad at a terrace table, a group of classy, smily and calm elderly Japanese people are seated next to me. And sure enough, that couple is amongst them. The husband sees me, waves and thanks me again. I finish my salad and go up to them and ask if it is ok if I give him a photo of them I took earlier. I tell him that “the landscape was so beautiful I took a photo” and offer to AirDrop him the photo. “I don’t know how” he says, so I ask for his permission to do it for him. He hands me his phone. I switch AirDrop on to “everyone” and he receives the photo. He sees the photo and excitingly shows it to his friends. “Arigatone” he smiles.

The group is from Hiroshima. They notice my tan, and when I tell them I surf, they all chime “yappari, sou omotta (we thought so!)” As his wife reaches out for her lunch, the gentleman helps her eat in such tender and kind manner. I’ve never seem such caring gentleness from an old man. I am so moved. We say good bye wish each other a wonderful trip.

It was a simple encounter but is one of the highlights of my trip. I cannot describe how and why the moment warmed my heart so much. Maybe I was home sick, maybe I was vulnerable from exhaustion. Maybe it’s Shangri La. It was an afternoon I had decided to take a break from surfing, which I quickly regretted, but at the end of the day, it was one of the best afternoons in paradise.