After about 10 at night every corner became occupied by a street performer hoping to capitalize on the strong night life. Honolulu and Waikiki were unlike any city I had seen. I was used to the beach in Chicago, which also borders the city on a busy street, but it never really impressed me; I enjoyed it and spent a good deal of time there, it just didn't excite me. Downtown areas of Waikiki were crowded with expensive stores like Gucci and Tiffany's and famous steak restaurants, as well as markets and every franchise you can imagine. One side of the city is bordered by a long park and beach. The center of the park has a giant statue of one of Hawaii's kings from many years ago. The beach also had groups of a dozen or so tables covered by a metal roof spread out across it. At night these areas were filled with people betting on chess games, many of them homeless. I spent a few hours there during my stay and played against many interesting people, and learned much about the islands.
I didn't expect to learn anything from the men I was playing with. I had watched a few games before I said anything and none of them were very good, but they were all having fun, playing each game for money and a cigarette. After each game ended they would pass a $5 bill across the table and the loser would usually offer the winner a cigarette, though not every time. There were about twenty people playing, many of them dark Polynesian men looking to be around 40, maybe a little more, but there were a few white men also around the same age. One of the white men was an chubby balding man wearing a beat and yellowing white t-shirt that said 'US Open Vegas 2000,' it was a chess shirt. I was startled to see someone wearing the shirt of a contestant playing chess on a beach. “Wow, you played in the US Open? How did you place, or are you just wearing that shirt?” I asked. “Yes actually I am just wearing the shirt,” he told me in a German sounding accent. I thought he was just being a smart ass so I persisted, and he answered back with some anger that he had just bought the shirt somewhere. Finally there was also one young black kid, he couldn't have been older than 23. The kid was called Billy and was wearing sweat pants and a black t-shirt with dirt on it. He stayed with a very old looking Asian man all night. The Asian was short and his skin was cracked, making him look much older than he was, realistically he was probably in his early 60's. They were the first two people that I realized were homeless.