I visited the Pacific Northwest in March as part of a curling trip to Vancouver, British Columbia. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was prepared for it to be cool and damp.
My initial travel to the area from Seattle to Vancouver seemed to confirm my suspicions — there was light drizzle in Seattle and that seemed to continue when my train arrived at Pacific Central Station.
First impressions can be deceiving. After that first night back in Canada, there was nothing but sunshine and mostly moderate temperatures until I took the bus back to the grey gloom of Seattle.
Take a look at one of my early Vancouver photos and one as I was leaving four days later.
It was my first visit to Western Canada. Vancouver impressed me on nearly every level as a cosmopolitan city akin to San Francisco or Seattle with distinct and gorgeous landscapes from Queen Elizabeth Park to Stanley Park. They also seem to be big on rooftop patios and gardens, which I found to be delightful.
Despite my mostly positive impression, there were three events that reminded me that not everything is perfect. While one event may have been the result of long-term societal issues, I don’t view my experience as some sort of indictment against how the city or province are governed.
One was an indirect interaction on my last night in the city. I was on the hunt for some interesting seafood and I initially headed toward the east side of the city via bus before I realized I didn’t really want to go to that specific restaurant.
Seeking to head back downtown, I hopped off the bus on Hastings Street near Main Street and crossed the street to catch a westbound bus.
Hastings Street unfortunately had signs of abject poverty and homelessness that were largely absent in the other parts of the city I visited. The number of people apparently living permanently in tents on the street was to the point where I felt uncomfortable as nighttime fell. I would probably not want to bring friends or family without precautions.
I will note that no one approached me, so I can’t say how the people were. I was also briefly tempted to check out one establishment that was running a karaoke night.
On another day, I was waiting for a bus after visiting a currency exchange. As I was sitting on a bus bench while wearing a USA Curling ballcap, a man sat down next to me and very shortly thereafter asked “Why don’t you go back to the United States?”
My response was pretty simple: “I was invited to be here” for the curling event.
After that brusque introduction, the man reflected that he had dual citizenship between Canada and the United States but he didn’t have a U.S. passport. It also turned out that the mother’s side of his family was from northern Utah, and he seemed to harbor a little bitterness toward his late mother for bringing her family to Canada. I was sympathetic, especially as there are things that we would want to say to a loved one but couldn’t when they were alive.
Eventually the bus arrived and we boarded at the same time.
Given his other interaction on the bus (loudly asking if a bus pass he found belonged to anyone), this man appeared to be a little awkward in public but seemed harmless. I could envision myself in his shoes to a point.
The third incident that stood out was when I riding another bus (or maybe SkyTrain). A man in front of me sneezed about three times.
After the first time, I said “Bless you.” After the second sneeze, I said “You only get one,” in a dumb reference to a “Family Guy” joke that got a laugh once so I keep trying it from time to time. I said “Bless you” again after the man’s third sneeze.
However, the man didn’t seem comforted, repeatedly saying that it was “too late” for him. He sounded down, and I was at a loss for words.
While “Bless you” generally implies the invocation of God or similar deity, that was uncomfortable ground for me to stay on in my response to this person who seemed to be in need. While many faiths assert that it’s never too late to find salvation with their deity, I didn’t feel it was my place to make such a claim.
My response was something along the lines of “We can wish each other goodwill.”
That response seemed incomplete but it was the first thing that came to mind.
Even if one doesn’t believe in a superior being, I found it deeply sad for someone to believe it’s “too late” to find some sort of grace, acceptance, redemption or just peace in this world.
If I had a second chance to speak with this man, I would’ve said that it was never “too late” to find some purpose or fulfillment in life.
A couple of quotes bolster my line of thought, including Teddy Roosevelt saying “Far and away the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.”
The TR quote contains a certain amount of inspiring industriousness and bold purpose yet also underscores that the worthwhile work is a reward unto itself. On the other hand, it does seem incomplete given how important friends and family are.
The other example that comes to mind is an underlying thesis of “The Good Place,” a TV comedy that initially focuses on a woman named Eleanor Shellstrop who finds herself placed by mistake in a heaven-like afterlife and ultimately decides to work to earn her place with the help of her friends.
The TV series had many developments that shouldn’t be spoiled, so I will simply say that, during the third season episode “Jeremy Bearimy,” there was a point where Eleanor and her friends learned something that prevented them from making any further progress and would ultimately condemn them to The Bad Place, the horrendous-but-not-exactly-hell final destination in the show’s universe.
Over the course of the episode, Eleanor and her friends have different reactions to this life-altering news. These reactions fall along different ethical theories including virtue ethics, consequentialism, deontology and nihilism. (Those theories are also explored in the nonfiction book “How to Be Perfect,” written by the series creator Michael Schur.)
Ultimately, Eleanor convinces her friends to accept that their fates are set, but they can work to do good and help their friends and families — whose fates haven’t yet been determined.
“Why not try?” Eleanor said. “It’s better than not trying, right?”
In his book, Schur goes into considerable detail about many ethical theories but reaches a conclusion in the coda in the form of a letter to his young children on using the wisdom from these ideas to make better decisions.
“Though their ideas vary widely, they’re all based on the simple concept that who we are and what we do matters,” Schur wrote. “That we should care whether we’re doing something good or not, and thus try to do the best things we can.”
Despite the book’s title, Schur acknowledges that people aren’t perfect but we can learn from mistakes, keep improving and do the best we can.
I know I’ve fallen short in a lot of things in my life, including trying to find words of comfort to someone in need on a bus or railcar. However, as long as I can keep trying (and have the wisdom to know I should keep trying), I feel like I’m moving in the right direction.
