On staying in Vancouver

Here in verbatim is an exercise where we each wrote our impressions of the place where we couchsurfed:

We went to the door and tried to open it after tapping on the window to alert them to our presence but someone said “There’s a couch in front of the door” and to come around to the window. So we walked around to a window that led to the kitchen and climbed in and immediately met many people whose names I mostly don’t remember. The kitchen was smallish with a big bowl of salad on the counter (I was later told by a girl from Germany we could have some salad) and just off the kitchen was a bedroom. Our host was in there so we introduced ourselves to her and several others. Past that was the living room strewn with sleeping pads and sleeping bags and a couple of couches. We were told it was “survival of the fittest” to find a sleeping spot. Across the living room was the bathroom and beyond both was another bedroom. Felt immediately like we were in a hostel. Met many people from several countries and everyone was welcoming and had the air of traveler. It smelled like a hostel too. It’s the smell of being abroad or maybe just the smell that results from many different people sharing a relatively small space. It was a bit more chaotic than an actual hostel, but also more friendly. One bathroom for that many people (maybe 15 or so? More? I’m not sure) means waiting one’s turn. We walked out to buy liquor with a girl from Germany and a guy from Mexico, but the liquor store was closed. Got to practice a little German with the many German speakers.

Our host’s hostel was a delightful reminder of less delightful abodes. It was reminiscent of my time in a squatter’s hovel while still feeling safe and a dorm with only the neatest people and a hostel with no cost. I thoroughly enjoy being able to see a community intent on living apart from capitalism. People call it living cheaply, but most people I know who live as cheaply as they can, actually approach goods and life differently. They’re more pleasant, more willing to share, more eager to accept others. We met several people traveling from other nations, all eager to know us and to connect to us. Our hosts’s hostel greets you with a fleet of surfers at the bay win-door, a simpler keyless entry system. The basis of the system is the trust we should have everyday. The fridge is filled with donated food, and the sink is responsibly clean, as one would expect of responsible people. The bathroom sink has a warning on it--warning of its fragility. The living room is filled wall-to-wall with softeners of the floor, foam and air matresses. I imagined as we arranged ourselves for sleep, a program to install bunkbeds, thereby doubling the available sleeping surfaces. Considering some 20 people shared one bath, there was plenty to go around. Even those taking a shower didn’t lengthen the line too much. I hope we’ll never pay to sleep again, and that we can offer the same to others throughout our lives.

And that, folks, is primarily what we experienced of Vancouver.

Stindan Weinson