Surviving The Fall, 55

Good morning, Gentle Reader! Happy Tuesday! I am thinking this morning about what it is like to live downtown. I live downtown, you know. In beautiful and too expensive for ordinary people Vancouver. It isn't my first pick of a neighbourhood. Rather, a necessary evil. I was on several wait lists for affordable housing some seventeen years ago, most of the buildings being in not the nicest neighbourhoods. Beggars can't be choosers, you know. And if you're not already making shitloads of money in this city, then you are already a beggar, not a chooser. You ae considered a loser. So, my name came up for this new project being constructed, Candela Place, and since there weren't any places in lovely West Side neighbourhoods competing for my coveted tenancy, here I am, downtown, on Granville Street, these last sixteen years, in a part of town I would never have chosen had I had the financial options. Now, I can at least be grateful that I can still live in Vancouver, despite my low income. This makes me a rarity. A lot of people are moving out of this city, and most of them aren't really that poor. They just can't afford housing here. Living downtown does have a few assets. It is very central, and transit is fast and accessible. Services are nearby, but affordable food shopping, not so much. It's noisy. and crowded. If you thrive on being surrounded by indifferent strangers 24/7, then you will likely be rather happy here. If you prefer to be around friendly, more neighbourly types, then not so much. When you live downtown you all ignore each other. Or, you're expected to. And you go out when you have to When you live downtown, you don't go out. You stay in. I don't see how the constant noise, be it construction racket or first responders' sirens or mouth breathers from the suburbs who still haven't been toilet trained, can be healthy to live with. The sirens alone are maddening. As are the garbage trucks. I have to remember day after day that those people are also me, and that I am also those people, because as I mentioned yesterday, Gentle Reader, whether we like this or not, we are all one. We are all the same person. If I am tired and feeling overwhelmed from a busy work day, even if it's a beautiful summer evening, I usually stay in after dinner. I never used to. but living downtown in a subsidized apartment with neighbours who often have mental health issues, sometimes even getting through the hallway, down the elevator and through the lobby to the front door can be an exhausting ordeal. Saturday evening when I actually did score a lovely walk outside, what was I treated to when I stepped through the front entrance of my building but the stench of urine, as someone (I think a tenant with bladder incontinence) had peed all over the floor, from front door to elevator. And this is not to mention the various people outside on the pavement, many of whom live with mental health issues, addictions, brain injuries, and fetal alcohol spectrum disorder, as well as those who like to exploit them. There is also the liquor store next door. This is not a nice neighbourhood. And this leaves me feeling often like a hostage in my own home. Yesterday I wanted to go outside after supper, but I am going through a difficult sleep cycle and am overloaded with work as well as work I have to do from home. I didn't have the time or energy to do something I used to really enjoy. Because I lived in less toxic environments. So, I stayed in and went to bed early, since I was exhausted. I am still not well rested, though better than yesterday,. I still have a lot of work to do, but fortunately a last minute cancellation leaves the morning free for me and I plan to do what I do every day in order to cope with living here. I seek quiet, beautiful green places for long walks, usually Shaughnessy or Stanley Park. I thrive on those outings and I can actually breath and feel my blood pressure lower for an hour or two. This isn't to say that I'm not going to keep trying to go out in the evenings. Of course I am, but it has to be in small steps. This isn't really so bad. there are also good people around and I have been blessed with some very good friends, some of whom I see quite frequently. And for all my complaining about where I live, it is not the worst option. To imagine the other extreme, have any of you ever heard of North Sentinel Island? It is in the Indian Ocean, situated in the Bay of Bengal with the Andaman Islands. It is considered one of the most dangerous places on earth. You see, the native inhabitants are not very nice people who will kill anyone who comes onto their island. They are one of the last untouched indigenous populations on earth, and they want to keep it that way. They have inhabited those islands likely for the past sixty thousand years, and they remain much as they were in the Old Stone Age. I am also reminded of the backward fascist politicians being elected in such countries as Hungary, Slovakia, Turkey, the United States and other places, all united in their hatred, fear and loathing of outsiders, immigrants, refugees, vulnerable people fleeing from hells of violence and persecution, and being turned back for posing fictional threats to the pure cultures and racial integrity of those sad, backward nations. Maybe not that different from the North Sentinelese. Yes, it can be difficult living among others, and having to adapt to diversity. And yes, to some extent one has to accept the loss of certain cultural certainties, but the trade-off is enormous, but it is only our selfish fear and hate that holds us back from these new possibilities of actually growing and becoming full human beings. I might complain about living downtown, Gentle Reader. But this has been an education and an opportunity for growth and for this reason I am going to accept it and go with it.