22) SUMMER IN THE CITY

I spent most of last semester in the dimly lit microfiche room at Library and Archives Canada, delving into the newspapers of late 1950s Vancouver. Douglas Jung, the first Chinese MP in Canada, was the focus of my inquiry and by extension the development of Chinatown. There was a palpable raw energy in the neighbourhood at that time: Chinese were finally allowed into professional schools, thanks to the lobbying efforts of WWII vets like Jung and his friends, and there was an optimism that characterized the opening of local libraries and public parks, and of course the jubilant victory celebrations on Pender Street the night Jung was elected to Parliament for the first time.

I ventured to the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Gardens in a vain attempt to recreate the Chinatown of my newspaper fantasies. Now located on the cusp of what is referred to as the poorest postal code in Canada, I was faced with warnings from friendly beat-cops on patrol and by the reality that East Vancouver is truly a forgotten place filled with people whom the rest of the nation has chosen to ignore. Seedy hotels, prostitutes in tattered lycra outfits, and drug addicts and alcoholics splayed on the sidewalk in the mid-afternoon sun were my signposts, leading me away from the shiny glass and metal towers of the business district and toward the dingy streets of Chinatown and beyond.

Besides my ridiculous disappointment that the 1950s Chinatown of my newspaper research had vanished, I found that the Sun Yat-Sen gardens ,which required $7 to view, were adjacent to public gardens of the same name which were free (and far superior in my estimation.) Nonetheless, it was an important side-trip in my larger journey which has kept me far from reality for the better part of the summer.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The Chinese influence in Vancouver is unmistakeable nowadays, especially with the influx of Hong Kong residents over the past decades. I was lucky to sample some of the positive cultural imports these new Vancouverites brought with them; namely, the arcade with games like Dance Dance Revolution and the photo booths which capture images and print them on all manner of stickers and trading cards.

There is a video of me dancing like a fool with unwieldly limbs flopping about and a silly grin plastered across my face. I hope it never surfaces to see the light of day . . . .

Finally, there was a trip to the the Richmond Night Market for food and meaningless consumerism. Del let himself be subjected to traditional Chinese remedies - the flaming glass cups placed on his back which left sizeable red welts which will apparently fade in a few days. I played in safe with my pork dumplings on a stick and a bag of mini sugar donuts.