Visiting Hawaii meant not only visiting memories, but places where those memories are contained. Chinatown is one such place. Honolulu’s is one of the oldest Chinatowns in America and probably is one of the smelliest. So, I find it rather amusing that tourists come here and based on their 3 star reviews, visitors possibly find it dirty and disgusting.
I remember a guy I was dating in high school saying such, to which I replied, “Dude, my family shops there…”
We were Chinatown regulars, standing obediently as children, off to the side, listening to the cacophony of Asian languages disco down the aisles.
Excitedly searching for White Rabbit Candy, staring at the pig heads on ice, eating at Hong Kong Noodle House – a family tradition.
Waiting on sidewalks and street corners while my mom caught up with her friends.
Parking the car, where, you know, we always park the car.
Then visiting mom’s friend’s shop, staring at the Thai magazines, videos, newspapers, groceries, candy, and then standing around waiting for mom to be done doing what needed to be done.
Buying fresh thick white flat Chinese noodles and pork-filled manapuas when we weren’t trapped by the smell of raw fish.
Waiting at the food courts or the car park while mom talked with her friends. Does she know everybody?
We were Chinatown regulars, standing obediently as children, off to the side.
Life, the Universe, and Lani 
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