Amid the bustle of a lively Waikiki street, the M-A jazz ensemble stuck out in our suits and dresses. Along with 19 other students, we had just headlined the Blue Note Hawaii, one of the world’s most prestigious jazz clubs. As a senior-heavy ensemble, this was a last hurrah for our years of dedication to the M-A music program.
Despite the dreary weather, we arrived at the San Jose Airport at 7 a.m Friday morning in Hawaiian shirts. After a five-hour flight, we landed in Honolulu.
We dropped our bags off at the Coconut Waikiki Hotel and began to unwind. A 10-minute walk led us to the beach, where we found a small restaurant selling spam musubi. After an afternoon of splashing around in the turquoise water, we enjoyed dinner and live Hawaiian music at a local restaurant.
On Saturday, we headed to the Pearl Harbor National Monument, where we learned about America’s entry into World War 2 and paid our respects to the fallen sailors aboard the USS Arizona on its monument.
Later, we arrived at Waipahu High School to prepare for the Waipahu Jazz Festival, the first of two performances. We listened to other high school bands perform, including a thrilling performance from two guitarists who absolutely shredded their solos. Dressed casually, we felt out of place in the sea of students clad in formalwear. Still, we couldn’t afford to worry, as Benji was determined to nail it. After a performance with admittedly more mistakes than we would have liked, we thanked our hosts and returned to our hotel, giddy for the next day.
We woke up bright and early on Sunday to make the most of our free time. While some decided to do homework, many of us spent a long morning sunning and swimming at the beach in the 80-degree heat, snacking on açai bowls and more spam musubi. In the afternoon, we gathered in the lobby in suits and dresses and departed for the famous club that we’d be co-headlining with the Mike Lewis Big Band that night.
Walking through the doors of the Blue Note was surreal. The dimly lit room was home to a professional stage with a neon “Blue Note” sign above it. After a quick sound check and two-hour rehearsal, we were reminded of the reality of playing a gig: there were two hours before our performance and we had nothing to do. Dinner, although free, wouldn’t be until after the performance.
The performance itself was nerve-wracking: this was our last big music trip of high school. The Mike Lewis band helped us feel comfortable on stage by cracking jokes while we transitioned songs. There was a sense of accomplishment as we played—this was our moment. There were parents and friends in the audience that had traveled over 2,000 miles to watch us. Then, after an almost two-hour performance, we headed offstage for a long-awaited dinner.
On our way back to the hotel, we stopped for gelato as a well-earned treat, no doubt baffling tourists and residents alike with our formal getup.
We woke up much more leisurely on Monday morning, reluctantly reminded of our plane ride home. Savoring the end of the trip, we walked to the beach for a final time, digging our feet into the sand and letting the waves crash over our ankles. Watching our friends laugh in the ocean, we knew this trip was more than worth missing a few days of school. The momentous occasion closed our M-A jazz experience on a high note.
