Before leaving for his first year of college, he had walked down these very same streets, smelling the sweet aromas of baking bread topped with butter and sugar from the Villanueva Bakery and the rich, fragrant scent of pan de coco that wafted from the doorway of De La Rosa Cakes, making his mouth water. Back then, everyone from the plantation owners and workers to the missionary families and the locals shopped at the bakeries. The crowded streets came alive at night with a colorful mix of languages, foreign foods, and the rhythmic, pulsing music of Filipino bands playing in the growing number of clubs and bars that had opened. Now, six years after the stock market crashed, there were only the empty, run-down storefronts with their faded signs written in two languages, one English, the second either Japanese or Portuguese or Tagalog.

Daniel turned down the street toward Kalakaua Park, directly across from the Federal Building, still the biggest and sturdiest structure in Hilo, and the first built using reinforced concrete, back in 1917. It had been inspired by all the sugar and cattle wealth, a stately Renaissance Revival design that still appeared out of place. Auntie Nori always thought it was showy, just like the haoles who built it.

“What would you prefer?” Uncle Samuel had asked. “Two grass huts?”

Auntie Nori stopped for a moment. “One would do,” she answered.

Daniel smiled at the memory.

The Hilo Spring Festival at Kalakaua Park was one of Daniel’s favorite events as a boy, the annual celebration that brought out not only the Hilo community and bigwigs, but also the plantation and dockworkers. Along with Wilson and Mano, he couldn’t wait for the festival every April, excited by all the food and games and the shave ice stand manned by Uncle Samuel. For days beforehand, the aunties prepared their best dishes: the Natuas’ kalua pork, Auntie Nori’s butterfish lau lau, his mother’s Portuguese chicken, long tables laden with food the locals brought to share. Everyone ate until their stomachs bulged, and then they ate more. It was the one day of the year that brought everyone together, the park bursting with music and hau’oli.