OUR HONOLULU
A place of tolerance and grace

By Bob Krauss
Advertiser Columnist

Nowhere is the evolving identity of Our Honolulu in more fascinating ferment than in Mo'ili'ili, once known for open-air sidewalk flower shops and Kuni Dry Goods, where grandmothers bought fabric to sew baby quilts.

What's happening in Mo'ili'ili is marvelous: a laid-back marriage between island tradition and global trade, pizza and Vietnamese food, lauhala mats and Siamese gongs. The new Japanese Grand Torii Gate in front of Star Market gracefully frames a Jiffy Lube sign across the street with a flock of white doves in the foreground.

University students in tank tops chomp on pizza and guzzle draft beer at Magoo's while retirees — the owner of a chop suey house, a plasterer and a former detective — have breakfast and solve jigsaw puzzles at Carol's Bakery.

Bakery owner Steven Shiraki buys the jigsaw puzzles. He frames the completed puzzles and hangs them on the wall for their sentimental value. "That one there is a place I visited in Japan," he said, pointing to one of the wall hangings.

A Russian-speaking tour driver works out of Puck's Alley. He said Russians want to see the same things here that everybody else does. By simply taking a few steps down the sidewalk you can get a tattoo, sign up for a "ghost tour" led by mystery tale-spinner Glen Grant or hear Hawaiian music at a new disco. What's amazing is that they all seem to enjoy each other.

The old Kuni Dry Goods is now Kinko's, a 24-hour headquarters for quick print/copy/ e-mail communication.

You can buy lauhala mats at an Asian import house, a statue of Buddha next door, a used TV at the Thrift Shop near Kinko's and discount CDs at Cheapo Music.

One of the more peaceful places is tucked away out of sight behind Puck's Alley. It's called the Revolution Book Store. C.J., who looks more like a teacher of American Studies instead of a struggling seller of books, said the entire staff is volunteers.

The anchor of continuity in Mo'ili'ili — outside of four remaining flower stalls — is the Mo'ili'ili Community Center and Japanese Language School that goes back 100 years. Some Chinese Jaycees were having a meeting when I stopped to chat. The words Lily Fung used to describe Mo'ili'ili means "safe, not much crime."

I asked how it got that way. "The community is very forgiving," explained Gordon Goo.

Rebecca Luke said she feels that way, too. She was in the parking lot behind Kokua Market, a natural foods store, running a Hawaiian activist co-op products stand. She described the environmentalists who work there as "gentle people."

That must be the secret. For me, the symbol of Mo'ili'ili today is a woman who came out of Kokua Market carrying a plastic Star Market shopping bag in one hand and a cloth, recyclable tote bag of natural foods in the other. Like Mo'ili'ili, she's in ferment, part of the global dilemma, deciding which way to jump.

But in a tolerant way, gracefully.