Tourism Talk
Something seems to be telling locals that Waikiki belongs to them
By Michele Kayal
Advertiser Columnist
Something long-hoped-for is happening in Waikiki, and it's not the renovations.
It's the locals.
They're back.
No study has been done. And there are people who will definitely argue. But over the last several months, the critical mass of local people in Waikiki seems to have been building. Sure, it's summer, and people have more free time. But anyone who set foot in the place last week could tell that things had changed, for real and hopefully for good.
Sabrina Kekona camped out on The Wall Friday with 21-month-old Kaulana and 15 family members — nieces, nephews, boyfriends, parents. They came from 'Aiea for the south swell, so the kids could do what she used to do: "jump off The Wall and boogie board."
But it's only in the last few months they've been coming to Waikiki, Sabrina said. And last week they came not once, but twice.
Sculptor Jan Fisher used to wander down once in a while to spy on visitors as they posed with his famous Duke Kahanamoku statue. But since Waikiki's been made shiny and new, he comes all the time, and tells others to do the same. On Friday, he brought his wife and four-year-old daughter to watch the sunset hula. "I wanted to make sure they saw this," he said.
A couple dozen teenagers, part of a summer ocean recreation program, were horsing around farther down Kuhio Beach after a day of surfing.
And earlier in the week at "Brunch on the Beach," Betty Kekuna ran into a Kamehameha classmate she hadn't seen in 20 years. City reporter Kapono Dowson caught Betty and her family over dessert that day. They had taken a room at the Moana for the weekend, a kind of mini-break from their home in Mililani.
Local people are finding lots of reasons to come to Waikiki. There's brunch, hula, bandstand concerts, new shopping, and of course, the south swell. But lots of places have brunch, and lots of beaches have a good break. The plain fact is that locals would not be coming to Waikiki after years of avoiding it if it weren't for one simple element: they feel welcome here again.
Why, is hard to say. It might have something to do with the city's renovations and "free" hula, which is good since they're the ones paying for it. Sabrina says it's the family atmosphere, the kid-friendly beaches. Jan and others say it's the festive feeling, the new excitement. But more than anything, it seems to be a shift in sensibility, a relaxation by executives traditionally obsessed with the visitor count, and by local people who reflexively disdain Waikiki.
The return of local people to Waikiki does more than just restore to them what is theirs and give them the cold, hard benefits of their tax dollars. It infuses Waikiki with an energy only they can bring.
Dr. "Hawaiian sense of place" George Kanahele long dreamed of bringing locals back to Waikiki. Because it is theirs, rightfully. And because new hotels and open-air entertainment venues won't make the place authentic. Only the people can do that. Only they can invite the visitors in and make it mean something.
There are people who do not like Dr. Kanahele, and they do not like tourists. I know because they call me. But they are not the people who were in Waikiki last week.
Sabrina doesn't mind when tourists talk to her. Even when they ask stupid questions.
"Sometimes they ask if we still have grass shacks," she says, rolling her eyes. "It's just so funny."
Culturally challenged tourists are what give the breed a bad name, and few people like to put up with them.
But if Sabrina weren't there, who would disabuse those dopey tourists of those dopey notions?
Sabrina's not there as a public service, of course, or to make sure everyone has a good time, though that's a nice side benefit.
In the end, she is there for one main reason, she says, one that can only benefit Hawai'i: "We're bringing the next generation to where we grew up."
