Tor-on-to Wandering

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On Wednesday, June 3rd, we took some time walk around a get lost. We walked around in the East end of downtown to check out a friend's place. While on our way, we ended up taking out a guy for lunch. He had approached us and told us that when we was sleeping in the park last night, someone had stolen his bag and his brand new hat, and that he could use money to buy some new stuff. Of course, we didn't just hand him money, but we was surprised and agreed to letting us take him out for lunch. It's probable he was a meth-kid, since his face had sores on it, even though he claimed he wasn't doing drugs anymore. He didn't really have much to say but how much he appreciated the meal and how incredibly hungry he was. The fare of choice was a place that serves only breakfast, all day.

We kept walking around trying to find the house. This area was a little sketchy, to say the least -- not dangerous, but everybody seemed to be walking funny, talking to themself, or just down and our. We were told later that this place had a lot of crackheads. We were unsuccessful at finding the house and headed home.

Later, on a stretch of Bloor St. West of our place, we walked up and down the Annex, which bears resemblance to Osborne Village in Winnipeg. It was nothing to exciting, really. We met a guy asking for spare change, and offered to buy him something from the grocery store. It turns out he was a professional panhandler and admitted to supplementing his other income. What he wanted was actually a coffee. We got to talking some more, and when he heard that we were traveling by thumb, he felt very bad for taking our money, since he figured we'd end up needing it. We bought him a coffee anyway.

We went grocery shopping and then headed home.

The next day, in the early afternoon, I went on a hunt for transient kids. I was looking for a certain girl currently in Toronto which I had been told about, and all I could do was find people who knew her, and where she tended to hang out, but not where she was staying. I went down to the Kensington market to find her, but had no luck.

We showed up a Sanctuary just to let the director know we were in town and set to participate the following Monday. After a short welcoming, we met up with one of Al's friends and walked around downtown: to both of the universities, and the famous gay community of Toronto, Church St. This was the second time I'd seen it, and other than a few promo posters on street-lights, it didn't seem that gay. But I've been told that changes in the evening. Whatever the case, we went home and relaxed for the evening.

On Friday, we wandered over to Sanctuary to see what was going on: An AA meeting. We mosied our way down to the Bathurst bridge to find some hobos, and met a guy who had just jumped off a train and into his sleeping bag for much-needed sleep. He was on the far left of the space to the right of the tracks, while the plywood shanties built by bridge-dwellers hung to the right. We headed back North on Bathurst to Queen St. and asked around for more hobos. We met a traveling couple sitting by The Meeting Place drop-in and got some info. Then came out a taller fella with better advice, and eventually another older man, who must have been a retired traveler. They gave us half decent info on how to get out of Toronto effectively.

While Alan went home for the evening, I scoped out some supposedly noteworthy dumpsters in Kensington market & the Annex.

On Saturday, we met up with Al's friend and his buddies in the afternoon. They had decided on going to the pot bar (a place you can bring your own pot to and rent their equipment), so we just followed them. Us two just kinda sat there and talked, and though there was no pressure for us to join in, it seemed to drag by for hours. I was actually bored. When we went back to the guy's house, we sat around on the deck, had some beers, and then made our way to a community picnic in the park. We had seen it on our way home from the pot bar, but it was already gone by the time we arrived. Me and Al went to go eat some Indian food, and when we came back to the guys in the park, I left for home.

Dani was out late, and Alan has the keys to the apartment. As he was expecting to be back around 12, and Dani sometime after 12, I decided to kill time around downtown. While sitting in the park at Bloor & Spadina, I met John, a 60s/soul music DJ. He was a great guy, and we had a pretty cool conversation. Ironically, he'd had that "don't-talk-to-me" look while eating his take-out -- the same look people on public transit have -- but now he seemed much friendlier than most.

I bummed around a bookstore, and through the Kensington market again to find Patty King. I check their purportedly good dumpster, and found nothing but garbage bags of grease. Bunk all was to be had. I wandered down Bloor again, and treated myself to a Sri Lankan Spice-Something tea at a shop with like 200 kinds of tea. That was exciting. I looked at maps and scribbled on paper and listened to girls talk about their "favorite hummus recipes" with slight irritation.

I returned to Dani's apartment a little early, figuring I'd just crash on the grass until she showed up. I only sat for about 5 minutes until Alan came bounding out of the elevator to let me in. Bugger! And to think I wasted all this time while Alan had come back early. Dumb.

My plan for Sunday was to go to a service at an Anglican Church nearby. I ended up being too lazy to do so, and just did some Internet research. In the afternoon, I went out to Second Cup and bought myself a large coffee, and kicked back to read the Confessions of St. Augustine. As the book was translated from it's original language into classic English (wordy as a birdy!), my caffeinated brain was having a hard time at concentration. I felt like I need to grab my pack and keep walking, meet someone random, do something crazy...anything but sit and relax. This is the same feeling that makes me go through my possessions once a week, etc. It is a good feeling, I'd say. It is a rush in which I can grab life by the balls and take charge of my lazy ass.

And so I headed to my favorite intersection again. I cut through an alley on my way and tagged it on my way out. I started a conversation with a guy with a sweet neck tattoo, and it turns out he was a member of teh band For The Fallen Dreams, a metalcore band from Detroit. He asked me where a beer store was, and I showed him the only one I knew of, which was closed. We parted ways.

I ended up meeting Drew again, a transient from the other day. He was panning money which he would later buy a 2L of spritzer wine with...figures. We talked a bit, and then headed to Evangel Hall mission with him and his dog for a meal. I met his two buddies from the other day, as well another transient couple from Quebecois. By the time I had finished eating, he had disappeared. I tried to find him back where the transient's were, but even the rest of the gang didn't know.

I head back home to let Al into the apartment at 7pm, as agreed. I did my laundry and chilled the evening away, preparing to start at Sanctuary the next day.

I feel like I've been here a month already. Maybe it's all the walking, maybe it's the boredom resulting from lack of spending money, and subsequent necessity to buy groceries instead of eating out. Definitely, Toronto feels a bit more familiar to me than the day before...by which I mean the downtown core of Toronto. There's not really any reason for myself, or even locals to leave this central area except on occasion. Of course, I know a beast of sludgey traffic and sub-urban maze still lies outside of these limits, but I don't think it's of value to me to go there. For this reason, Toronto feels much smaller than it looked coming in. The transit system, including subway, streetcars and buses, is becoming easy to work with once you know your intersections.

The physical features have decreased in viewing value. Not a whole heck of a lot is to be done without spending money. The Eaton Centre, Yorkville (a high-high-end clothing district), famous gay community on Church St. etc, are all worth one over-hyped look, and then nothing at all...without something to buy. There'll be enough to throw out of my bags once the volunteer period is up, that it'd be pointless to buy more even if I had cash.

So many strangers, and yet I find it hard to start a decent conversation with people. Everybody is paired up, or walk briskly down the side-walk with shades on as if they've got somewhere important to get to. In actuality, this is probably a cover they put on for being lonely and bored on their way home from work. When I'm on the subway (and actually happy), I make sure to smile. I always look for conversation starters, because I believe that like any other city, once the visual attractions lose their excitement, only the people can make you feel rooted and give a sense of purpose to your presence.

The East end of Toronto downtown has a high concentration of crackheads. It's not dangerous, it's just far from a normal experience walking through. In various parks and certain intersections, it's very common to see a deal going down. There's probably at least one homeless per block per street, panning, passed-out or just sitting down.

As a whole, Toronto is incredibly multi-ethnic and diverse. I always tell people that it's like visiting every country in the world at once (unfortunately without as many sexy accents). Like every other urban centre, this place is both a wonderful color-wheel of people and culture, and an evil beast in disguise. I don't prefer Toronto over Winnipeg. They both have the same social struggles, and a great ethnic diversity. I may be slightly biased to Winnipeg, though, as it seems substantially less globalized than Toronto.

Next week's schedule should be more intensive, as I'll be working at Sanctuary church with homeless people. But I am very much looking forward to feeling more connected and purposeful about my existence here. Also, this will be practical volunteer experience as opposed to wandering.

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