Country roads,
city streets
A Maili native and her counterpart
from Kalihi explore the unknownIsland residents seldom stray far from home. Oh, we go to the office, to school, to the mall, but, generally speaking, we tend to stay within a few miles of the neighborhood.This affliction is not exclusive to Hawaii natives. Those who have lived on the mainland used to think nothing of commuting 50 miles to work. But now these same people consider the drive from Niu Valley to Pearl City, roughly 20 miles, "too far".
The reason may be that we live on a small island so, everything being relative, a hundred miles in Arizona is equivalent to the distance between Manoa Valley and Hawaii Kai Costco. It may also be that Oahu's congested roadways make it an ordeal to get anywhere. Or maybe gas costs too much.
Whatever -- this habit can keep people largely ignorant about places other than their stomping grounds.
Michelle Ramos is a city girl, born and raised in the Kalihi-Liliha area. She confessed that she used to be unsure about the North Shore, thinking everything from Kahuku to Mokuleia was Haleiwa. Kimberly Fu is a country girl who lives on the Waianae Coast and used to view Waipahu as the end of the world. The two recently took to the road to explore places they had never or seldom been to.
These are their reports.
I used to think life in the city meant ...
a seedy nightlife where drugs, prostitution
and gangs rule the streets ...By Kimberly Fu
Star-BulletinNews flash: Sandy Beach is nowhere near Sand Island.
Chinaman's Hat really looks like a hat, and should not be mistaken for Rabbit Island.
Kahala, Aina Haina and Koko Marina are not the same place.
These are just a few of the misconceptions about the city -- as well as other places not on the Leeward Coast -- that this country girl finally got cleared up. And let me tell you, I had a whole lot of misconceptions about people, places and things.
On a clear, cool day last week my co-worker and I went driving around the island. We started on my side, the Waianae Coast, then went exploring beaches and rolling countrysides as well as shopping centers and other city stuff urban dwellers see all the time.
I was in heaven, but not because I was going places I'd seldom been to before. My thrill was just being freely mobile. I am one of the few adults on Oahu who doesn't have a driver's license.
So this was an opportunity to get out of the house without the migraines due to daily usage of TheBus.
I found it amazing that Michelle can get around the city without following road signs. She always knew where to turn and where we were at any given moment, depending on gut instinct to show us the way.
I, however, am clueless when it comes to directions and locations. This lack in my character is because someone else is always at the wheel: my sister who drives me to work or school in the mornings, the bus driver at nights and whoever I'm going out with on the weekends. There's always someone else who pays attention to where we're going.
Also, I never traveled much. As a kid, my family would pile into our old car every now and then and head out to Kaneohe or Kailua to visit relatives we hadn't seen in awhile. Even then, we seldom strayed from the street where the relatives lived, so my memories of those towns are narrow.
As I got older, my parents only left Waianae to attend some friend or relative's party or to go to work. My dad's construction work took him all over the island, but my mother's job was close to home. There weren't a lot of opportunities or reasons to go to town.
Then came college. Going to the University of Hawaii took me into the city with regularity, but only on bus routes. Beyond University and Dole, I didn't have much chance to explore.
So when Michelle and I went through such suburban settings as Portlock and Koko Marina, my image of city living was altered.
I used to think that life in the city meant well-dressed, short-tempered business men and women knocking down little old ladies in an attempt to get to work faster, a seedy nightlife where drugs, prostitution and gangs rule the streets and no refuge in sight.
Maybe I've watched too many episodes of "Homicide: Life on the Street."
But our trek emphasized the good things about city life: the colleges and universities, the multitude of eateries, the shops and museums, the theater, the movies, the concerts.
The warm smiles and friendly greetings from people in the city made me realize that my stereotypes were unfounded. As in other things, there's a mixture of good and bad.
One of the more important realizations was that some city citizens still view rural areas as boonie towns where nothing remotely interesting exists.
"There's just land and nothing else," said 17-year-old Charlene Wong, a Kaiser High School student. She only ventures outside of the urban core to go to the beach, but otherwise prefers the buzz of city life.
Despite the excitement and fun of the buzz, I still don't think I can live where there is a constant whirl of activity, the sound of car horns blaring outside my window morning, noon and night. At the same time, I don't want to stay in the place where grew up.
Maybe I need to live in a place where there's a little bit of city and a little bit of country.
Kimberly Fu is an intern at the Star-Bulletin.
She vows to get her driver's license soon.
City Streets
