The lady in the flowing dress jumps and dances on the side of the road during morning rush hour, holding her sign and waving at everyone — waving even if they don’t wave back.
But most do.
A city bus passes and the driver pumps his arm enthusiastically like a kid playing “choo-choo train.”
Downtown office workers in muted aloha shirts give short little waves with one hand while conscientiously keeping the other on the steering wheel.
Parents roll down back seat windows so that small children can wave, fingers wide and smiles beaming.
“Oh, the little ones crush my heart, no?”
Every morning for the last four months, Tamara Barria Montana, 55, has stood along the Pali Highway and waved to the morning rush hour commuters. She started what she calls her “Peace Project” a year ago on Kalanianaole Highway near Ainakoa Avenue, and still goes out there when it’s raining too hard on the Pali. At first, she stood quietly and held her sign, which usually says something like “peace” or “namaste,” and waved a little for half an hour or so. Now, she starts at 6:30 a.m., goes until 9:30 a.m. and is less inhibited.
“Now I am wild,” she says. “I dance, I jump. Because of the people and so much love, I think.”
As she flits around the strip of grass near the scenic lookout town-bound past Wyllie Street, she calls out, “Yay,” “Yippee!” “Aloha!” On Sundays, sometimes she sits quietly on the same stretch of grass and prays.
Barria Montana, a yoga and tai chi teacher, is originally from Chile. She’s lived in Hawaii for the last two years. Before that, she lived in San Francisco for 13 years. Her adult daughter still lives there.
In the grass near a sign that reads “I humbly bow to all creation” are gifts that people have given her that morning — a little bag of treats and a potted plant with purple flowers.
“Every single day, someone stops. They say ‘thank you.’ They bring me something,” she says. “But I don’t ask for anything. The purpose is just to connect with people and to connect in their hearts.”
She’s careful not to make this project of hers seem religious or of a particular philosophy. She chooses words for her signs that she thinks are universal, like “peace” and “love.” She paints a new sign every night for the next day’s work. When she holds her sign and waves, she tries to look in people’s eyes as they zoom past.
“Sometimes I see people crying. That touches my heart and I pray for them,” she says. “I see people really caught in their struggle. So much struggle that they’re not able to smile anymore. I pray more for them.”
As much as possible, she sticks to her daily commitment. “If I’m sick, I do the day and then I feel OK. Mind and energy can restore balance,” she says.