You Can Always Go... Downtown

There are lots of reason why I love downtown.It ranges from the simple, to the complex. Downtown Winnipeg can be beautiful, soft and lovely. It can radiate a vibe that is completely natural and open. Other times, it's gritty and worn. It's old and tired.


Even in those moments, I still love downtown. 


I can't express why. There is something about the darnkess of this city that gets under your skin and finds a home, like a tattoo.


I haven't had many bad experiences in downtown. Thinking about it now, I can only think of one moment recently where I didn't feel safe in my own back yard.


I was living on Assiniboine Avenue, about a block away from the Legeslative grounds. At the time, my heart had been broken and I was drunk. It was late spring and I decided that it might be a good idea to wander along the river walk, towards the Osborne bridge. It wasn't that late, probably close to 11 PM I think. I remember it was peaceful and enjoyable until I got close to the stairs leading up form the river walk to the Louis Riel statue. There was a group of young men, I believe about five or six. I don't believe any of them were older than 25. It was hard to tell. I didn't get close enough to them to get a good look.


As I walked up the stairs, I started to hear the laughs and jeers of these guys. I couldn't hear completely what they were saying but I could tell from the odd word I was able to pick up that they were talking about me. It was really the first time I felt uncomfortable in my own city. I quickly changed my path and got far away from them. I did my best not to make it look too obvious. My heart was racing as I walked briskly to the Osborne bridge. I stopped halfway on the bridge and watched them. Some of them had skateboards and were trying to grind the long rails on the stairs. Mostly they were laughing and drinking. From my advantage point I could see the bottle they were passing among each other, trying hard to conceal. I watched until they got bored of the river walk. Didn't take long as there was no foot traffic around the legislative grounds that late at night. 


After they moved along, after I saw their shadows blend into the night, I started my trek back.


That was really the one and only time I felt that hightened sense of danger. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my heart rate jumped. My hands clenched and I felt my knuckles go white.


I've been living downtown since I was 24. Almost ten years and in that time, I've only had one experience where I didn't feel in control of the situation. I do believe that when you live downtown, you do have to exhibit some level of simple street smarts. Maybe that is why I haven't had more negative experiences. I assess the environment around me, I avoid places that are dark and empty late at night. I'm careful. I keep a very thin guard up all the time, I am always aware of what is around me. If you let that little guard down, even for a minute - well those are the moments you run into trouble.


I both live and work downtown. Part of the reason I love downtown so much is the fact that I can walk to work in about fifteen minutes. I'm lucky, I realize that. I wouldn't change any of that for the world, and I have a hard time thinking about moving out of downtown. I know I should think about getting a house, taking that next, logical step but I find it hard to consider doing that. I love the lights, the busy streets, the people and being so close to everything.


There is the downside of course. Parking is a bitch and often deters people from coming to see me if they have to drive here. Also it can be noisy but you soon learn how to tune out the loudness. It does suck that there are no real grocery stores in the downtown area and the few that are here are super expensive and don't have the greatest selection. And of course, there are the homeless. You can't avoid them, they are here and its a fact of downtown living. It's simple, dealing with them. Be polite, be honest and don't ignore them. Simple rules to live by that makes things a lot easier on everyone. 


But even these negatives can't outweigh the positives for me. I love it here. I grew up in the country and can't see myself living back there. Nor can I see myself in the suburbs. The one way streets, the cracked sidewalks, the people - they all are in me and a part of me now. This is where I live and where I belong and I love it.

I love my new camera. The only thing I hate about it is the lack of subject matter. Hunter is great subject matter, don't get me wrong, and I love taking pictures of the little tyke, but I ache to get outside with him. I want to take pictures of his little toes in tall grass and I want to see how he reacts to the outside world - catch it all on film.

We got dumped on again last night - another heavy dusting of snow to make everything more difficult. Walking, driving, getting out is now ten times harder again. It was just starting to become more simple, more plausible and now, we are pushed back ten steps. It really sucks. I am anxious to get out walking, taking Hunter for long walks in the stroller, but fuck that. Mother Nature, you hag.

I believe this is called 'cabin fever.' The last few weeks of February is always hard in the prairies. You are so close to the end of this long, dry, hard winter. You survived another one and the dawn of something warmer and easier is just on the horizon, and then you get goddamn dumped upon again, pushed back just a few more steps.

Completely frustrating.

Unless you live on the prairies, then you have no idea about how hard then can be, how draining. The land has no topography. nothing interesting to look at - just a long line that the sun rises and sets on over and over again. I once heard that Manitoba is the only place on Earth where you can see the sun set and the moon rise at the same time. Just find a nice, long open field (and trust me, that ain't so hard) and at dusk you can see the spectacle - the round shinning orb of the sun on one side of you, the cold metallic circle of the moon on the other. When the wind picks up, there is nothing to stop it and the cold can chill you to the marrow of your bones. No mountains, trees only seem to grow in clumps in special areas, farmland everywhere. If it weren't for the tall buildings of the city, Winnipeg wouldn't be much different than the country-side.

You can hear the wind howl here. Growing up, I remember how the wind would make that whistling sound on those blustery nights, outside my bedroom window. You knew when you heard that howl that it was deathly cold outside and I always hated it when the dog whimpered to be let outside. I would stand in the garage, and the howl would be amplified. The metal garage door would rattle, and my toes would freeze on the pavement while I waited for the dog. You could feel the water on your eyes ice up, the tiny moister in your nostrils freeze and sting the tiny nose-hairs that they clung to.

I hate the prairies sometimes.

I also love them. Driving down the country roads, specially during the fall harvest is stunning. The colors of the fields, the bushes and trees are stronger than any painters pallet. The long, amazingly long field and the way they met the sky and formed that beautiful straight line of horizon - crisp colors, no mixing. It's breath-taking.

I'll always be a prairie girl, this is true. The flat-lands have seeped into my blood and there they will always remain. I love the mountains, I love the valley, I love the Canadian Shield but I will always be home on the prairies.