The Street Where I Lived

By 7:30 a.m. many drivers have already left for work.

On the street where I used to live some things have changed. A developer bought out some homeowners and got his condo towers approved; they now obscure the view of Mount Tantalus. The higher neighborhood density makes it impossible to find street parking after 5 p.m.

What hasn’t changed are the electrical wires and telephone landlines strung overhead. The old telephone poles are unsightly, laden with termites, and prone to toppling during the occasional hurricane. But the biggest irritants are the mynah birds that perch on the wires, raining their effluvia on cars and passersby. Perhaps living on the Mainland has made me less forgiving about these matters.

The house in the corner is well tended. The “crazy lady” who lived there used to scream at everyone who walked by. She’s gone, but the background noise of the city traffic has ramped up to compensate. If it weren’t for my age-related loss of hearing I wouldn’t be able to sleep.


Some homeless men have encamped in Ala Wai Park across the street. The police push them along, but where can they go? At least they’re not spoiling tourists’ views of pristine Waikiki and Ala Moana, which are only half a mile makai (toward the ocean).

Ala Wai Canal is polluted, but not so badly that one can’t bear to walk or jog next to it. Fishing and swimming are out of the question; gone forever are the days when boys could freestyle across, as my dad and uncles did before the war.


Bicyclists speed by on the narrow sidewalks, ignoring my dirty looks. I step out of their way easily enough, but what about the elderly pedestrians who aren’t as agile and able to recover from injury? These bikers weren’t born and raised in Hawaii….yes, I can tell.

The poor economy and increasing crowds and traffic have taken their toll on the sunniest dispositions. The greatest change is the least visible to long-time residents, the slow diminution of the aloha spirit. The spirit hasn’t vanished; I’ve been greeted by too many friendly faces to make such an overwrought claim. But like other fragile Island flora, it must be tended carefully. It's later than we think. © 2009 Stephen Yuen