"Are many of the Maku'u vendors still buying bulk produce from places like Costco and then doubling the price to sell to our east side tourists?"
Here's my post from 2014 'rebranded' for 2017: ( original post: http://www.punaweb.org/forum/topic.asp?whichpage=2.53333333333333&TOPIC_ID=18466& ) :
I can see the late night infomercial now on a mainland travel channel...
The Maku'u Market (registered trademark ® ) is an upscale shopping resort experience complete with potholed cinder driveways exquisitely lined with randomly placed chunks of mystery metal things and
hand-crafted signs reminding you that 1) They have hats for sale and 2) No pets are allowed.
Really, no animals except service animals are allowed. Didn't you see the three, no four signs?
The lush, rustic, and rocky botanical drive into Maku'u is periodically dotted with stone-faced attendants wearing neon shirts who serve no real purpose, but do give the impression that your safety could potentially be a priority.
After parking your expensive imported car, walk past the merchants selling dirty old tools for higher than new Amazon prices while listening to them complain about helicopter noise and instantly you will know why getting in for two dolla is a bargain.
While at the Maku'u Market ®, be sure to stop by the fine artisan food court. Try to ignore that only one of the 'restaurants' has a hand washing station. And it doesn't work. Stand in line for 20 minutes, get your food, then look to the left, and then the right, and give up in frustration knowing that there is no place to sit. Enjoy Puna in the raw as you stand in the rain, wolfing down your food as quickly as possible. Don't worry, your Armani suit will shed Pele's acid rain. You have to come to Maku'u pretty early to get a seat because the live concert headliners seldom play or sing out of tune, and the music is never too loud to have a conversation!
The Maku'u Market Spa ® is just the place to go when you need to relax. That crusty old neighbor of your illegal AirBnB rental who has been creeping on your teenage daughter offers unlicensed massages for only fifty cents per minute. Relax on the canvas he found on the side of the road and let his magic oily hands send all your worries back to the mainland. He doesn't have a massage oil bottle anywhere: That's Maku'u Magic ®!
After stocking up on rusty socket wrenches, garlic imported from China, food that was deep fried 24 hours ago, body rubs from some dude with crap under his fingernails, and more live entertainment than you will ever find at a free farmer's market, return to the valet parking station where a handsome smiling attendant will look at you dumbfounded when asked to fetch your shiny Bugatti.
"Maku'u Market. Not just a farmer's market: The Two-Dolla-Farmer's-Market".®
ETA: 'grammar', attempt to upgrade 'humour' to 2017.
ETA: updated 'humor' to 'humour' (for Tomk)