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Recognized Social Butterfly

A TALE OF TWO SIDES OF THE STREET

A Tale of Two Sides of the Street

Yesterday late afternoon, I decided to walk on a different route in order to get something at the ABC store on Kalakaua Ave., the main drag in Waikiki. Even though my mission misfired (there was no ketchup on the shelves), I found lots to write about while walking to and back from the store.

On one side of the street flanked by the St. Augustine by the Sea Catholic Church (a safe haven for the dispossessed), there were bunches of unattended debris: half-eaten sandwiches pecked at by a few birds, torn mats and blankets, a busted and rusted wheel chair, shredded newspapers, and a couple of mismatched thread-bare sandals. Strewn along the sidewalk, patches of homeless people were haphazardly sleeping in bundled up rags, some of which completely obscured their faces. I met only one person who was walking on that side of the street:  a spaced-out guy who lustfully spied all of the discarded items as he staggered along. He looked at me suspiciously as he passed by as if I was intruding on his territory.

The other side of the street was quite a contrast, almost an alternate universe. There was no trash cluttering up the sidewalk; there were no homeless people at all. Chatty well-dressed, well-nourished tourists toasted one another at an elegant Italian restaurant. Others hand in hand strolled along the immaculately-kept, stately Marriott Hotel that covered most of the block. I also noticed that this side of the street was glittering with sunlight, whereas the other side had been completely engulfed in shadows.

During my daily walks, I often observe the juxtaposition of opposites in Waikiki. Sometimes I am enlightened; sometimes I am dumbfounded. Sometimes I am elated; sometimes I am saddened. Yesterday, I felt a little dread walking next to the makeshift homeless disarray and a little delight in glancing at the vibrant bustle on the other side of the street. But what struck me the most was the fact that such diametrically different milieus could coincide and coexist so peacefully.

Vive la difference!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Tale of Two Sides of the Street

Yesterday late afternoon, I decided to walk on a different route in order to get something at the ABC store on Kalakaua Ave., the main drag in Waikiki. Even though my mission misfired (there was no ketchup on the shelves), I found lots to write about while walking to and back from the store.

On one side of the street flanked by the St. Augustine by the Sea Catholic Church (a safe haven for the dispossessed), there were bunches of unattended debris: half-eaten sandwiches pecked at by a few birds, torn mats and blankets, a busted and rusted wheel chair, shredded newspapers, and a couple of mismatched thread-bare sandals. Strewn along the sidewalk, patches of homeless people were haphazardly sleeping in bundled up rags, some of which completely obscured their faces. I met only one person who was walking on that side of the street:  a spaced-out guy who lustfully spied all of the discarded items as he staggered along. He looked at me suspiciously as he passed by as if I was intruding on his territory.

The other side of the street was quite a contrast, almost an alternate universe. There was no trash cluttering up the sidewalk; there were no homeless people at all. Chatty well-dressed, well-nourished tourists toasted one another at an elegant Italian restaurant. Others hand in hand strolled along the immaculately-kept, stately Marriott Hotel that covered most of the block. I also noticed that this side of the street was glittering with sunlight, whereas the other side had been completely engulfed in shadows.

During my daily walks, I often observe the juxtaposition of opposites in Waikiki. Sometimes I am enlightened; sometimes I am dumbfounded. Sometimes I am elated; sometimes I am saddened. Yesterday, I felt a little dread walking next to the makeshift homeless disarray and a little delight in glancing at the vibrant bustle on the other side of the street. But what struck me the most was the fact that such diametrically different milieus could coincide and coexist so peacefully.

Vive la difference!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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