Mayor Kirk Caldwell estimates it will take months to find enough shelter beds and housing to clear out the estimated 293 people living in the Kakaako homeless encampment, even as the Institute for Human Services quietly moved 21 adults and family members off the sidewalks over the last three weeks.

As IHS well knows, the ability to move people into shelters relies on available beds — a number that can fluctuate wildly every day.

In the middle of last week, for instance, IHS had a waiting list for beds in its highly coveted 115-bed family shelter in Iwilei. Then by the end of the week, IHS suddenly found itself with 23 available beds for family members, who sometimes double up small children in a single bed.

Caldwell had wanted to start sweeping the homeless out of Kakaako weeks ago, but at Gov. David Ige’s request agreed to delay what he calls “compassionate enforcement” until enough beds became available.

If IHS’ experience is any guide, trying to time sweeps of the Kakaako homeless encampment with available shelter space could prove to be a tricky dance — especially when it comes to families.

“It’s very dynamic,” said IHS spokesman Kimo Carvalho. “The numbers we have today are not the same numbers we’ll have on Monday.”

The first occupants targeted for removal from the encampment — 20 to 25 people living on Cooke and Ohe streets mauka of Ilalo Street — will be given notices on Monday. They’ll then have nine days until crews dismantle their wood-reinforced tents and tarps. The crews also will prevent anyone from returning on a daily basis by enforcing city ordinances aimed at keeping the homeless from storing property on — or blocking — sidewalks.

Caldwell said the first people to be removed are mostly single adults, a population that usually can find room in Oahu’s homeless shelters. The real challenge will come in the weeks that follow when city crews start sweeping families living deeper in the heart of the encampment.

Outreach workers have been monitoring several of their clients living in Kakaako and were able to persuade a family of four, two families of five and seven single adults to abandon their tents and tarps for IHS’ shelters.

The threat of a city sweep helped provide motivation.

“We’ve said, ‘There’s something coming and you might want to take advantage of our shelter,'” Carvalho said. “We’re just trying to get our clients out.”

Husband and wife Joseph Binios, 53, and Mercedes Phermin, 58, and their three children were able to take advantage of vacancies in IHS’ family shelter on Aug. 7.

While many are under the impression that Micronesians like Binios and Phermin account for most of Hawaii’s homeless population, a census of the encampment conducted the week of Aug. 3 found that 20 percent of the 293 people living there were Micronesian.

The census found that the majority of the homeless in Kakaako were an unspecified majority of Native Hawaiians and other Pacific islanders.

Just under half of the entire homeless population in Kakaako — 124 people — belonged to 31 families.

Binios and Phermin also defy the stereotype that they only want to live off of government help provided through the Compact of Free Association agreement that followed U.S. tests of atomic and hydrogen bombs over Micronesia, resulting in health and environmental problems for generations.

Binios has been working steadily as a security guard on Oahu since moving from the rural, outer Mortlock Islands in 2007 to seek medical attention in Honolulu for a bad back.

Phermin, Binios’ wife of 36 years, followed with the three youngest of their eight children to get treatment on her legs.

They loved life in Hawaii, including the opportunity to buy things like cellphones — impossible to do back home.

But mostly, like generations of Hawaii immigrants before them, they saw a chance in America to give their children better lives.

“For our native Micronesian and Chuukese — those COFA migrants — they find access to better education here,” Carvalho said. “They have no concept of homelessness. But they are highly motivated and driven by family dynamics.”

Phermin also continues to work as a parking lot attendant. Their children, ages 12 to 18, attend Kalakaua Middle and Farrington High schools.

“The stereotype of Micronesians isn’t true,” Carvalho said.

There are also huge misunderstandings among Micronesians about what life will be like in Hawaii — especially with the high cost of living and high housing prices, Carvalho said.

There have been education efforts in Micronesia about the realities in Hawaii, but Carvalho said they have been poorly funded and inconsistent.

Back in Micronesia, Binios and Phermin said they did not need to work because they “lived off the land” and built their own home.

They were unaware of the concept of homelessness and certainly had no idea what a homeless shelter was because they had never heard of such a thing until they came to Hawaii.

At first, they moved into a four-bedroom home with relatives in Pearl City and contributed $500 per month in rent.

But it was “overcrowded,” Phermin said, and the family wanted a place of their own. So they rented a nearby three-bedroom unit for $1,900 two or three years ago.

Over time, they began slipping behind in the rent.

By January, Binios said, “the landlord said he wanted to renovate and we had to leave.”

They then moved into the Kuhio Park Terrace public housing project with other relatives, but were not there properly and also were told to leave.

So they got on the Kuhio Park Terrace waiting list and filled out applications for other rental units ranging from $1,600 to $1,800.

They never heard back.

Even if they had gotten an apartment, Binios is not sure how he would keep up with a monthly rent of $1,800 while raising two teenagers and a middle-schooler.

In June they saw the encampment in Kakaako and its proximity to public showers and bathrooms, located right next to a gorgeous ocean view. They bought an eight-person tent at Walmart for $172 and suddenly found themselves homeless for the first time in their lives.

Asked what they told their kids the first night in the often noisy and raucous Kakaako encampment, Binios and Phermin sat silent for several long moments and did not look at each other.

As Phermin teared up, her husband said: “What we told our kids was, ‘Go to school. Each day that’s what you have to do. Look at our lives. You don’t want to follow what we’re doing now.'”

On June 29, state Rep. Tom Brower (D, Waikiki-Ala Moana-Kakaako) was attacked while photographing the encampment, generating intense scrutiny and highlighting the increased police and ambulance calls that had occurred over the last several months.

Ige then formed his Governor’s Leadership Team on Homelessness six weeks ago that brought even more focus on Hawaii’s homeless.

Binios and Phermin know what’s being said, in particular, about homeless Micronesians.

In response, Binios said: “The people that live out there (in Kakaako) are not majority Micronesians. We only came here to have a better life for our children, to give them a better education.”

While Binios and Phermin had never heard of a homeless shelter, they’re now grateful that IHS had room to take them in.

Unlike the packed Kakaako encampment, Binios said IHS’ family shelter is “peaceful,” adding, “There’s safety. We can sleep on a mattress.”

If they were still living in Kakaako and got swept, Binios said, he would have no idea where his family would go if no shelter beds were available.

For now, Binios and Phermin have no intention of returning to Micronesia, even though their dreams have yet to come true in Hawaii.

Instead, they hope to regroup with the help of IHS and go on to live better lives in Hawaii.

“As long as they help us get a roof over our heads,” Binios said, “we’ll be ready.”