Community character left to development blueprints

To imagine what Oahu will look and feel like through the next decade or so, consider a handful of projects and initiatives the island will soon encounter.

First and foremost is the city’s rail line, which is expected to be completed in seven years. That is, if a pro-rail candidate is elected mayor either in the primary or general election, and if — unlike previous government enterprises — construction, land acquisition, financing, engineering and other project pieces all fall precisely into place.

Wide concrete overpasses borne by wide concrete pillars will shuttle trains back and forth from Kapolei to Ala Moana Center. Under the best scenario, retail stores, business plazas and high-rise apartments and condos will thrive beneath and between their shadows. Under the worst, adjacent properties will be vacant or used for industrial purposes, left unsightly and vulnerable to graffiti and grime.

From on high, rail cars will glide over thousands of houses interspersed with commercial structures and a few patches of green where Ho‘opili residents can grow cucumbers if they chose the garden package when home-buying. Further north, more houses will enfold at what’s called Koa Ridge, a supposed nod to a time when forests of the now scarce trees grew there. In between, another train of automobiles will crawl along the H-1.

When passengers get off at Ala Moana, they will be within walking distance of other concentrations of retailers. Ward Centers will add by next year another two-story structure of nationally branded shops and restaurants. Its visual design isn’t likely to win any architectural awards, but will be in keeping with the district’s Anywhere, U.S.A., look where thousands of residential units will be disbursed through 20 towers.

A couple of miles down the road, Waikiki will offer even more "shopping experiences," as marketing now dictates stores be called.

The International Market Place, which began operations in 1957, will be transformed from a tumble of booths and tented tables where vendors sell volcano-shaped candles, polyester plumeria leis and other novelties into a "world-class retail, entertainment and dining destination infused with Hawaiian culture."

As part of the project, the Miramar Hotel, a fixture since 1970, will be renovated and a five-story parking garage piled on.

With tourism at giddy heights, once-hibernating investors are dusting off dormant plans for a 350-foot tower, 50 feet over height limits, whose face will shift 90 degrees to a broad mauka-makai orientation.

At beachfront, developers hope another hotel will sprout from eight to 26 stories and closer to the ocean’s edge than rules allow.

Areas outside tourism central will also confront the desires for new and improved. Moiliili, one of town-side’s few remaining old-style neighborhoods, may soon get gussied up as landowner Kamehameha Schools considers redevelopment. Although the trust has tried to maintain the community’s atmosphere with previous renovations, much of Moiliili’s un-blueprinted character will disappear.

The problem of form doesn’t matter if changes are only configured in the exterior, but a neighborhood reflects its inhabitants. They, too, change, for better or worse.

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Cynthia Oi can be reached at coi@staradvertiser.com.