Staying at the Patricia Hotel on East Hastings street, in the heart of the Downtown Eastside, is not for the faint of heart. Drug-plagued and poor, the neighbourhood breaks you. But the hotel is clean and friendly, all the festival artists are here. Wandering the streets, I realise I have much history here. This was where I worked in anti-poverty, that boarded-up ruin was the old student gallery. The Regent Hotel, where a woman plunged to her death two nights ago, is is where I became worker-conscious with the longshoremen and fishermen who used to gather, hunched around pints on small wooden tables. Here is where I worked in mental health, where it seems time stops still and the same shuffling figures puff on hand-rolled smokes from cigarette butts outside.
A day-off from art today to spend time with family. Yes, Vancouver is home. As much as home could ever be for a solitary wanderer, shy observer like me.
Hi M. When I think of your past in in Vancouver I think of you hanging in with that guy who was grasping two budgies, off his meds.
ReplyDeleteOh yes, that crucible of a time at Victory House. I've been walking past there each day and recognize some folks smoking outside. I've stopped short of going in to say hello, it was so long ago.
ReplyDeleteFunny thing is they have a new building (not really new now, just different from the original site) and their signage includes the ubiquitous scallop shell seen all along the Camino. I was jolted by the familiarity of that sign in a completely different context. Then I realised, of course yes, Victory House is run by the St James' Society of the Anglican Church. Funny coincidence. Reminds me that we're always on the Camino, no matter where.