After 5 days hanging out in Toronto, I'm writing this from Terminal 3 at Pearson reflecting on many things from this trip. It was full of fun, laughs, drinks and good friends. But it was also tinged with sadness for our fellow human beings.
I travel to the Big Smoke usually every 3 to 4 months, so I have a pretty good sense of what the city is about. But I don't think in all the times I've been there before, have I seen such an abundance of homeless people. I often see the usuals every trip - the guy who plays the bagpipes at the corner of Queen and University or the big guy with his guitar and amp on Queen Street just up from Nathan Phillips Square. There were many new faces this time. One of them was Neena.
Neena (the name I've given her) was this tiny little asian woman. She maybe stood 5'3 and was about 40 if I had to guess. I saw her the first day I was there as she approached a woman sitting down from me and asked her for a smoke. She was a little chatter bug, and the happiest and most cheerful homeless person I've ever seen. A little spitfire who walked around in her little happy go lucky world, always in sock feet with no shoes on. The second day I was there I saw her again - twice! The second time was coming back from drinks with a friend on Queen Street. We crossed by each other at a walk light, and as she went by I could hear her repeating to herself, "my karma must be underneath the ground somewhere." I saw her every day after that as well.
On my final day today, I walked over to Nathan Phillips Square which has become a home for many of the city's homeless, particularly at night. I had walked through it on Thursday night, where in the shadows of Toronto's down time, I could see every second bench covered with a body who was bundled up for some sleep before the sun came up and they had to find elsewhere to go. Today as I walked through, I looked over and saw Neena once again. For the first time she was wearing shoes! They were these stylish high heeled shoes and she also had a new fancy purse. She walked awkwardly in the shoes as she clearly was not used to wearing them, but she was proud as spit and walked around waving hi to everyone who came across her path.
I wanted to go over and sit with her and ask her what her story was and what she meant when she said "her karma must be underneath the ground somewhere" but I didn't have the courage. Instead, I watched her from a distance admiring how happy she was despite her circumstances, but felt sad for her at the same time. The one thing obvious about her and many of the homeless, is that they are battling many mental issues that likely will contribute to them never becoming a normal part of society again. They will always roam the streets, mumbling stories and rage to themselves, never seeking help and perhaps never being offered help because the resources to deal with the homeless just aren't there for the amount of people who now are among those stats.
Many times when I was unemployed, the thought crossed my mind: what if I just can't get back on my feet and wind up homeless. Would I be able to survive? Fortunately I don't have to answer that question now, but after seeing Neena on this trip, I'm grateful for the life I do have, even if I'm not rich. I have a roof over my head. I don't know if Neena ever will ever have that again, but I'll look for her the next time I go back to Toronto when the winter has arrived and see how she's doing. I hope she'll still be that chatty, happy, little spitfire I first encountered.
Tia
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Friday, August 10, 2012
Summer Friend
Last night I sat on my front step with a rum and coke in hand, soaking up the cool breeze and just listening to the world around me for a bit. Within a few minutes of sitting there, I could hear the woman from about 5 houses down walking up the sidewalk with the little guy from next door who's only about 6 or 7. She said "see you tomorrow" and he replied "goodbye" and she waited for him to get safely in the house before making her way back home.
This little guy is always down at her house playing with her little boy. Almost every day when I come home from work and drive by their house, they're on the front lawn playing with toys or on their bikes and he waves as I go by. I usually see him Saturdays and Sundays beating a path down the sidewalk to go visit, or returning home at about supper time. The family he belongs to are affectionately called my "crazy neighbours" who don't do anything with the kids themselves. They just hole up in their house, come out to smoke, and that's about it. You never see them taking the kids for walks or going to the park with them, so it's nice to see this little guy finding someone to socialize with and that he's got a summer friend.
It makes me think back to when I was just a kid. We lived in Alberta and would go stay with my grandparents in Maple Creek for a bit of the summer. One summer at the swimming pool, I met a girl about my age named Cindy. We hit it off instantly and hung out quite a bit while I was there, as she also happened to live just down the alley from my grandparents. When I had to go back to Alberta, I was sad to have to say goodbye to my new friend, but excited for the year to go by so I could see her the next summer.
When the next summer rolled around and I returned to my grandparents, I was eager to go down to Cindy's house and see her. But for whatever reason, my grandparents would tell me I'd best not go and that she probably wasn't there. I'd go out into the back yard and play, hoping to see her ride down the back alley on her bike or just catch a glimpse of her just so I could wave or something just to let her know I was back. After a couple of days of not being allowed to go to her house, I asked if I could phone her. That's when the truth came to light. Sometime between then and the previous summer, she had committed suicide. It was a lot to get my head around at such a young age, and I felt lost knowing I'd never see her again.
To this day when I see kids at the park playing or just hanging out in the summer, I think of Cindy and wonder what could have been so horrible in her life at such a young age that she would take her own life. I still don't know why, and that'll always be something I'll likely never know the answer to. I'll just always remember her as that happy, smiley little girl she was that one summer when.
Tia
This little guy is always down at her house playing with her little boy. Almost every day when I come home from work and drive by their house, they're on the front lawn playing with toys or on their bikes and he waves as I go by. I usually see him Saturdays and Sundays beating a path down the sidewalk to go visit, or returning home at about supper time. The family he belongs to are affectionately called my "crazy neighbours" who don't do anything with the kids themselves. They just hole up in their house, come out to smoke, and that's about it. You never see them taking the kids for walks or going to the park with them, so it's nice to see this little guy finding someone to socialize with and that he's got a summer friend.
It makes me think back to when I was just a kid. We lived in Alberta and would go stay with my grandparents in Maple Creek for a bit of the summer. One summer at the swimming pool, I met a girl about my age named Cindy. We hit it off instantly and hung out quite a bit while I was there, as she also happened to live just down the alley from my grandparents. When I had to go back to Alberta, I was sad to have to say goodbye to my new friend, but excited for the year to go by so I could see her the next summer.
When the next summer rolled around and I returned to my grandparents, I was eager to go down to Cindy's house and see her. But for whatever reason, my grandparents would tell me I'd best not go and that she probably wasn't there. I'd go out into the back yard and play, hoping to see her ride down the back alley on her bike or just catch a glimpse of her just so I could wave or something just to let her know I was back. After a couple of days of not being allowed to go to her house, I asked if I could phone her. That's when the truth came to light. Sometime between then and the previous summer, she had committed suicide. It was a lot to get my head around at such a young age, and I felt lost knowing I'd never see her again.
To this day when I see kids at the park playing or just hanging out in the summer, I think of Cindy and wonder what could have been so horrible in her life at such a young age that she would take her own life. I still don't know why, and that'll always be something I'll likely never know the answer to. I'll just always remember her as that happy, smiley little girl she was that one summer when.
Tia
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