When I moved to Victoria, for a year, something like 16 years ago I lived in this building on the top floor. My apartment was the one over the front porch and that roof you see used to be a balcony. At some point after I moved it was ordered to be shut down. Pity, as I spent many an hour out there working at a small table or wrapped in a comforter drinking coffee during the winter months. I probably spent more time out there than I did inside.
It was a one room sparsely furnished apartment with large windows and lots of light with an icebox and a single coiled hot plate. You had to share the bathroom and the sink. To many this sounds disgusting but the lady that did the cleaning was a born cleaner. I have never lived in such a clean place. That bathroom and sink was spotless. Soon after I left she got a live in job at the home of the Lieutenant Governor's Mansion. They must have been thrilled to snag her. She would have had that place sparkling in no time.
I stayed there an entire year. Some thought me crazy, my brother for one, but it was a great little place and I loved the flavour and the character of the neighbourhood. This is definitely where the working poor live and we were surrounded by CRD housing. The CRD housing was a sore spot for many as their digs were much better than the non CRD housing. At one point it was discovered that one of our MLA's had an apartment in the CRD complex across the street. How is that possible? It was living in this neighbourhood that I first came to the realization that the working poor are not treated fairly. We have to do much more for them. It bothers me that you can be worse off working than not. Emotionally I do not believe it to be true but financially it certainly is. The working poor also have far less resources available to them for their own children. My views on the inequality of our system were only strengthened when I taught at the READ Society. 
This is a picture of some of the CRD housing that was right across the street. I always liked the octagonal balconies.
This little fella always had a place of prominence outside the apartment. My landlord had a weird obsession with it. This guy was vandalized repeatedly and yet he would always fix him up and tack him down once again. I see now that it is even chained in place.
This apartment dwelling was across the narrow street and a guy my age would always sit outside and play his saxophone. We talked all the time. He from his porch and me from my balcony. The two places were so close together that you could talk in normal voices and not have to shout. He lived with his girlfriend but nobody ever saw her. We certainly heard her though. She was a tyrant always barking out orders to her poor beleaguered boyfriend. The neighbourhood was all abuzz about this because he was so darn cute and everyone wondered why he would stay with such a terror. A terror no one actually ever saw. This of course only helped to fuel the wild and crazy stories that ripped through the neighbourhood about her. It was weird. You would think at some point we would have seen her. Most likely we did and just did not realize it was her.
It was the kind of neighbourhood where a lot of time was spent outdoors and you would often have people sitting on different balconies, porches and stoops carrying on one big conversation all along the little narrow street.
It was also an area with a lot of problems and domestic disputes. Fridays and Saturdays were rarely without some sort of police incident in the area. But, by in large the people were good people just struggling to make ends meet and carve out a life for themselves.
I found the year I spent there an extremely productive year artistically. It was also the year that I discovered the kind of teaching I was meant to do so for me the place only holds warm feelings.
On my next post I am going to introduce you to Gerte, the woman that lived next door to me. She was such an incredible and unique woman that I only hope I can do her justice.
I think most neighbourhoods have a life of their own. So, what are some of your old or current neighbourhood stories?
19 comments:
My early years in New York I lived for a while in Park Slope, Brooklyn. This was before gentrification. The area was once beautiful and had become run down, therefore the spaces were charming but affordable. One end of the block was working class Italians and the other was Puerto Rican (and Korean). Everyone sat on the stoop and it was a very neighborly atmosphere. I remember once there was a wedding and this woman, who I guess was driving there or back—I don't recall which—had car problems. She pulled to the side of the road and with a mink stole, high heels and nice dress on, opened the hood and began tinkering with the engine. The other accessory she had was a chihuahua that she held under one arm while she fixed her car—which she did and proceeded to wherever she was going. My friends and I were on the stoop so we applauded her victory over her engine and she waved as she drove off. I loved living there. Something like that happened all the time and I was young enough to be amazed each and every time.
After I had left and moved to Manhattan, Gentrification sucked the life out of the neighborhood that once had a butcher, a pork store, a small grocer and a vegetable market. One had to go to a minimum of three places to buy food for dinner. But at each place the proprietors knew you and treated you like you were their best customer. I hope they made out like bandits when they sold their homes and businesses to the slightly more moneyed classes.
WS
Your old neighbourhood sounds wonderful - like it had a lot of soul.
I loved the neighbourhood where I lived in London, ON. It was a 20 minute walk to downtown, but I rarely needed to do that because Wortley Village was truly a village within the city. We had a little commercial area with groceries, drugstore, toy store, ice cream parlour, library, bank, even a green space where community events were held. There was even an outdoor pool at the far end.
It was a mixed zone neighbourhood with single family houses mixed in with apartment buildings, with a mom and pop store on every corner, and loads of playgrounds. And all in the setting of enormous trees and century old red brick houses with big front porches.
I still miss that place.
Wayward son, I adore the image of the woman in a mink stole and high heels. Where I live now is a much more affluent area but it has no sense of community. I rather miss the vitality of my old neighbourhood.
Barbara, red brick houses with big front porches would make for a lovely neighbourhood. I would also love to have the outdoor pool. Moose Jaw had one and it was the best place to spend a hot summer day. I miss that pool.
Im looking forward to reading about Gerte! I really enjoyed this post! I can't think of any neighborhood stories at the moment, but maybe one will come up :O)
Mellowlee, hopefully you are about to start a whole new set of wonderful neighbourhood memories in your new place!
i will try and do a post on my favourite neighbourhood story this week. no promises tho, as my new job starts tomorrow and i have no idea what my energy level will be like.
oh ps.. another great post.
668, good luck tomorrow. I really hope you have a fantastic first day. You're going to be great I just know it.
we did not have a Gerte but we did have an old man Goh who sat in his front lawn without his pants (nor underpants). my parental units NEVA let us over there.
Boo, I certainly see why not! Oh my gosh that hilarious and terrible all at the same time.
I really like this post, but I don't have any special neighbourhood stories, so far, I've only been in 2 different houses, my parents' and my apartment. Maybe that next year, living in a place where there are moslty students, I'll have some great stories
I find it fascinating to go back to neighborhoods I lived in when I was younger and see the changes.
When I was 3, we moved to the Lincoln Park neighborhood in Chicago. It as a fascinating place to live-- it was the center of bohemian life in Chicago, and later the hippies and counterculture. It was also one of the more diverse neighborhoods in the city at the time.
It is now, of course, a white yuppie ghetto.
Evelyne, I have no doubt that you will have lots of stories to share next year from your new place.
Johnny Yen, I know change has to happen but sometimes it's sad to see a neighbourhood lose it's flavour only to be replaced by the same old stores and shops you see everywhere and the cookie cutter townhouses.
This was a great post, I loved it :)
I read it last night, and as I was driving home from work tonight, through my old neighbourhood thought about your story here. I shall have to write about mine sometime this week.
Just to echo the others- great post. I enjoyed reading it. :-)
thanks! i got to go home early today! whoo hoo!
Allison, I look forward to reading your post. How's life with the nile virus?
Whitenoise, thanks.
668, I was thinking about you today. Sounds like the first day was a success which I knew it would be. Look forward to hearing about your new job.
Busy, busy. I shall try and catch up on blogging/emailing soon!! :)
Allison, no worries believe me we understand. Hope you are at least enjoying the job.
Post a Comment