edwards block

Of all of greater Vancouver’s generally boring suburbs, Richmond has historically been my least favourite, though the truth is, all of the suburban cities rate relatively equally compared to the much-preferred Vancouver proper. There’s no single reason for my particular disdain for Richmond; rather, a complex web of accumulated, interrelated flaws has hardened me against feeling affection for the town that serves as the final output for Vancouver’s sewage.

Richmond’s most obvious flaw is its flatness. For most, this is probably a minor characteristic, possibly even an overlooked one, but for me that flatness is evocative of my adolescent years in Winnipeg, though at least Richmond has a habitable climate and considerably fewer mosquitoes. The feeling of flatness is enhanced by the traditionally low height restrictions of buildings and signs, owing to the city’s close proximity to the international airport. When in Richmond, I feel as if the sky is mere inches above and the urge to duck follows me everywhere, as if I were seven feet tall and wandering around in a door shop for dwarves.

Then there’s the traffic plan. Or lack thereof. I suspect that the only reason they thought to lay down any sidewalks at all was so that the car stereo and crap furniture stores that inhabit the strip malls have somewhere to put their sandwich boards that don’t inhibit the flow of cars through the narrow parking lots. The roads are generally too narrow for the volume, since early city managers neither planned for future right-of-way expansion nor tried to foster a pedestrian- and transit-friendly community. If you plan to drive down No. 3 Road, bring along a book. If you plan to walk, bring body armour and a good insurance policy.

Speaking of No. 3 Road, I’d be lax if I failed to mention the lack of creativity in street naming. I’d expand on that, but it gives me a headache trying ponder all the various combinations of names that can contain the word “bridge”, or to sort out the otherwise identically named Crescents from the Cul-de-Sacs from the Closes, all of which seem to intersect, abut, and sidle each other in an endless series of dead-ends and misunderstandings that make me avoid all but a half dozen known routes out of fear that I might be lost forever in a subdivision of identical bungalows.

But that’s enough criticism – let me say something positive.

Though I have for many years actively avoided going to “Ditchmond” (as the locals derisively referred to it back in the day), it has in recent years undergone a major demographic shift, and lately I have been making some tentative forays across the river to see what’s up. This wasn’t completely intentional – I was picking someone up at the airport a while back and the flight was quite delayed, so I had a choice of hanging around YVR or going to Richmond for a couple of hours, and even downtown Kelowna contains more tolerable amenities than the airport, so off to Richmond I went. I’ve actually been back a couple of times since, by choice.

On the initial visit I found myself in what is now known as the “Golden Village” district, a commercial strip that contains a number of Asian-themed shopping malls, and through which a rapid transit line was recently opened that connects the area to downtown Vancouver.

Actually, I’m not all that keen on the expression “Asian-themed”, for it makes it sound like a bunch of white executives over at Cadillac Fairview opened a regular old mall full of Gaps and Grand and Toys but hung giant paper dragons over the escalator. No one ever refers to Cadillac Fairview’s Pacific Centre as a “Caucasian-themed shopping mall”.

At any rate, I kind of like the Golden Village malls, at least as much as someone can who can’t stand malls to begin with can “like” one. I started with Parker Place, based primarily on the great name. In a way it is my favourite so far, for it seems most foreign to my learned idea of what a mall is. The hallways are narrow and (relatively) rabbit-warren like, and the stores generally seem to be independent in nature rather than the bland and predictable chains that inhabit typical North American malls. In fact, I believe that Parker Place is unique in malldom in that its tenants have strata title over their spaces. Perhaps because if this, it has a bit of the ambience of a public market, say, an upscale version of the Mercado Publico in San Jose but with more glass and tile and fewer muggers.

From there, I made my way to Aberdeen Centre. This mall is much more in the western style, a little more upscale and shiny than Parker Place, and the store spaces are rentals, but the stores here are also likely to be unfamiliar to those who know only the typical North American mall. Like any other mall, there are plenty of stores in which I have little consumer interest, but there is one that I like quite a bit: Daiso, the Japanese department store.

Daiso is a sort of upscale “dollar store”. Products tend to be, generally, of a quality on the lower end of the scale, but much of it is far better than what is usually sold in what we typically know of as dollar stores, and products are often aesthetically unique and pleasing. I find it a good place to buy notebooks and assorted office supplies, as well as affordable but nice looking and practical dishes. They also sell replacement rubber ear buds to fit the ear-bud style headphones (that Future Shop will tell you don’t exist as they try to sell you a whole new headphone for $30). The price of replacement ear-buds at Daiso? Four for $2.

One also can’t go wrong with the “Food Court”. Typical malls usually have all the same grease-trap joints as any other mall – bad food at low-ish prices. The food in the Aberdeen Food Court is actually pretty good, though. On my most recent visit, I had a slice of “Teriyaki Chicken Mochi” pizza at the peculiarly named “Strawberry Cones Japanese Pizza & Pasta”. Though pretty tasty, and of a quality vastly superior to any standard discount pizza joint, this was probably the junkiest food offering available in the court.

My favourite part of Aberdeen Centre, though, is also the cheesiest: the musical fountain. It’s a smaller version of the same sort of fountain found outside of the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas. When I was in Las Vegas I wasn’t at all interested in it, but at Aberdeen I find it fascinating. Perhaps the smaller scale makes it a more intimate experience. The first time I went, the fountain was sending jets of water in all directions in time with the song “It’s a Small World”. On my most recent visit, the jets were syncing with a medley of classical themes, ending in a crescendo with the conclusion of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker. It’s really quite silly – I stand there with all the six year old girls, enthralled.

The Musical Fountain

It occurs to me now that if the most exciting product of my recent trips to Richmond is a fond reminiscence of shopping malls, either Richmond still has depressingly little of note to say about it, or I’ve recently been lobotomised, since under normal circumstances I feel as if I’m being smothered by an asbestos blanket if forced to spend 15 minutes inside a mall. I’ve been known to walk four blocks down Granville Street in driving sleet rather stroll through the dry warmth of Pacific Centre, and I’d rather be eviscerated than go to Metrotown Mall.

I’m sure that what makes the Golden Village malls tolerable to me is the extent to which they are “foreign” to what is familiar to me. Visiting them is not like wrestling alligators or hiking across the Brazilian Highlands, but there’s still a sense of adventure to be had in discovering them, the sort of adventure one gets from travelling to another country and immersing oneself in a culture different from one’s own. It’s a shame that more Vancouverites – Caucasian Vancouverites, I mean – don’t feel inclined to that sort of adventure, or so I deduce from the relative rarity of pale faces at Aberdeen, or some other “ethnic” enclaves in the Lower Mainland. It’s much more pleasant to get out an embrace difference than to sit around complaining about it. Isn’t that what multiculturalism should be all about?

As for the rest of Richmond, the city is not without some signs of progress, such as the previously mentioned rapid transit line, which is surely the best thing to happen to Richmond in decades. I also noticed that a number of bike lanes are now appearing on major routes. Overall, though, I’m still a ways from feeling affectionate toward the ugly urban areas outside of the immediate vicinity of the Aberdeen Skytrain station.

Remembrance Day, as it is called in much of the commonwealth, is coming up again, about a month from today. In the US it is called Veterans Day; in France, Armistice Day (Jour de l’Armistice). Officially, it marks the end of World War I, though in modern convention it is a remembrance of life lost in both world wars, as well as to those who died in other military activities, such as the one currently taking place in Afghanistan.

Remembrance has probably been in constant decline since World War II, and that’s unfortunate. I’m talking about real remembrance, not just throwing a plastic flower on our lapels on the way to the mall, an act which for many of us is probably inspired more by habitual adherence to custom, or sub-conscious concern for what others will think, than by a truly conscious act of remembrance.

This Remembrance Day, why not try to remember in a more attentive way? I’m not talking about getting in your car to drive downtown to stand around at the Cenotaph for a few minutes trying to listen to barely audible speeches while shivering. If that’s your bag, go ahead, but if it isn’t your thing, that’s OK. I understand fully. Standing around in a crowd of inattentive, latte-sipping people while parades of tragically militarised children are marched up Cordova Street and warplanes are buzzed overhead isn’t my thing either. I just ask that you replace it with something that is meaningful to you.

It need not involve going downtown, or being an all-day project. In fact, perhaps the best thing you could do is just sit down in your living room, or your yard (perhaps just after 11am, but whenever is good too), and spend a few minutes thinking about war, and peace, and grandparents, and great grandparents and what it was like, regardless of whether they were getting shot at in western France or supporting the effort from home and facing an uncertain and terrifying future. Think about all the legless, armless and headless children of those wars, and of wars occurring right now. Do it alone, or sit with your family or friends and talk about it, or read something. Even if all you do is Google war and spend twenty minutes following and reading Wikipedia links, that’s twenty minutes thoughtfully and productively invested in real remembrance.

One of the more commonly heard expressions about war and remembrance refers to men and women “who gave their lives that freedom might prevail”.¹  Yes, it’s vitally important to take the time to remember those people who gave their own lives, limbs, or health to preserve those freedoms that provide us with all of the privileges that we enjoy today. But simply remembering is not enough. Along with the moral responsibility to remember and honour, there is also a responsibility to continue to preserve and defend those freedoms. Failure to do so, in my opinion, makes all the cenotaphs, wreath-laying, plastic poppies, and war-amps key tags worthless.

When I speak of continuing to defend freedom, I do not refer to the act of sending troops to overseas countries to, ostensibly, fight for the freedom of others and, by extension, all of us. That addresses an area of foreign policy that deserves open and thoughtful debate, but that I am not attempting to address here at this time.

Rather, I refer to the defense of freedom here at home.

It is easy for us to overlook, when it does not affect us personally and directly, the ways that our freedoms – that others died to preserve for us – are being abused and eroded.

In British Columbia, local governments are stomping all over our freedoms with barely a peep of protest from the bulk of citizens. For instance, the Liberal government introduced in the legislature a bill, innocuously titled the Miscellaneous Statutes and Amendment Act, that contains the subsection The Municipalities Enabling and Validating Act. This act will allow municipalities in which olympic events are taking place (Vancouver, Richmond, and Whistler) to enter private property to remove or cover up signs.

Although the act does not specifically mention the olympics or indicate what kind of signs are subject to censorship, it does specify that the municipalities will be granted these powers for a fixed period of time, from February 1, 2010 to March 31, 2010, the period during which the olympics will take place. For more info, see the CBC report, and the text of Bill 13.

The city of Vancouver (led by BC’s own Marshall Pétain, Mayor Gregor Robertson, who speaks publicly about being “pissed” when cyclists hold up traffic but is remarkably quiet about the destruction of liberty) is collaborating by introducing bylaws to complement the provincial act. In addition, bylaws have been prepared that will limit the rights of citizens to carry out certain activities on city streets. Among these are handing out leaflets, holding signs or advertising anything at all that isn’t VANOC approved.

But that’s not all. The Vancouver Police have been hanging out in the downtown eastside of Vancouver, site of Canada’s poorest urban neighbourhood, engaging in a campaign of harassment against the residents of that community. They’re writing jaywalking tickets, filing charges for simple drug possession, and requiring that beat cops stop a minimum of four people per block for “street checks”, which apparently involves identification checks. If you think that’s acceptable, just imagine the same thing happening to you while walking down your own street.

Meanwhile, the special amalgamation of police that is being amassed for the olympics, the Integrated Security Unit, is busy establishing a reputation for being Canada’s ‘light’ version of Stasi. Police are showing up to question people for any kind of olympic criticism. For instance, 73-year old Peter Scott, who wrote a critical letter to the editor, had police come to his door. Or there’s Danika Surm, who had the ISU show up at her class at Langara College, just for being the friend of someone who is an olympics opponent. Just google “olympics 2010 harassment” and you’ll get lots more examples.

The police claim that they are simply trying to uncover any potential threats to the physical security of the olympics – preventing terrorism, in other words. However, I am sceptical. It sounds to me, and to many others, like the police are being used for political purposes. Having “law enforcement” agents visit people who express political opinions is nothing more than an intimidation tactic intended to stifle dissent. It is an unjust, immoral, and completely inapproriate use of state power against citizens that one would expect more from a totalitarian state than one would from good old Canada.

The provincial government has also proposed a law that would empower the Vancouver police to force homeless people into a shelters or other “safe alternatives” during cold or wet conditions. This being Vancouver, cold or wet conditions can be expected at pretty much any time of year, but most especially during the winter olympics.

I doubt that housing minister Rich Coleman has any genuine interest in the safety of the homeless. On the other hand, rounding them all up and stuffing them into makeshift jails will be a highly convenient way of hiding them from the sensitive eyes of olympic tourists. Unless this is just the first step in a more general re-institutionalisation process (following the de-institutionalisation process of the 80s on the alleged grounds of civil liberties) I’m fairly certain that once the five-ring circus has packed up and left town, the homeless will once again be allowed to (or even encouraged to) die quietly in dark corners.

Most of us are not homeless. Most of us have no desire to publicly oppose the olympics. Most of us will not get a ticket for speeding through a red light at Main and Hastings while the police are on the sidewalk reinforcing respect for the rule of law among those poor and weak enough to be bullied.

When the provincial government introduced photo radar, a mass of motorists rose up in protest to defend what they perceived to be an assault on their constitutional rights, such as the right to hurtle through a school zone in two tons of steel with impunity, and photo radar was abandoned.

The fact that a minority does not have sufficient numbers or sufficient resources to rise up against a perceived injustice is not an indication that the injustice is imaginary. We must look out for each other’s rights, even if we don’t always agree with or understand them.

Remember the words of Martin Niemöller:

First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a communist;
Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist;
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist;
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew;
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak out for me.

When the winter olympics was first being proposed, I was opposed to it. I didn’t like the effect it would have on the city and I thought it was a massive use of taxpayers dollars being used as a subsidy to corporate interests, little of which would trickle back down to the source. As a return on investment, it seemed unappealling. However, once it became official, I resigned myself to it, and I can say, hoped it would succeed, at least enough so that we wouldn’t get stiffed for another few billion. And I would be cooperating with it today, if it were not for the unprecedented attack on civil liberties that is taking place as a result.

The olympics may be a very desirable event to many, but if we can’t hold an olympics, or any other event, without depriving citizens of their rights to free speech and free assembly, we have no business holding it at all.

Now, I know that in this age of information overload and overwork, it is difficult to pay attention to, let alone be involved in, all of our civic responsibilities. But citizenship and responsibility are work. We owe our forbears the responsibility of carrying out that work. I ask you, not to give all your time to saving the world, but to take just a few moments here and there to do something, anything. To do the right thing. To remember. To remember why.

One great way that you can take some meaningful action, with minimal work or expense, is to join the British Columbia Civil Liberties Association. The BCCLA does an admirable job of defending freedom of speech and the other liberties that we take for granted and advocating on behalf of those who are being deprived of those liberties. You may not – in fact, I guarantee that you will not – agree with all of the people and organisations that the BCCLA defends. You may not agree with any of them at all. But free speech isn’t always pretty or convenient. I might also add that the BCCLA will not spam you endlessly for more money or send you reams of junk mail (I wouldn’t be a member if they did), and you don’t actually have to participate in any of their activities, but you are also more than welcome to do so.

Please, join. It’s easy. It’s cheap. Do it now, not tomorrow. On November 11, be able to say “I remember. I’m doing my part to honour and preserve what they died for”.

If you don’t live in British Columbia, consider joining one of these complementary organisations:

Canadian Civil Liberties Association

American Civil Liberties Union

1. http://legion.ca/About/remembrance_e.cfm [↩]