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There are times when things in life really get me down. For the most part, I pick myself up, dust off and start again. But there are those days where life seems like it’s just not worth the hassle. I’m sure everyone has experienced this to some degree or other, it’s what makes us human right? How do you deal with those days though? How do you get yourself out of that funk and make life seem a little brighter?

For myself and the Jeffers, we have a rather unique way. There is a major intersection in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside known as Hastings and Main to Vancouverites. This is the true slum of Vancouver. Its home to countless numbers of homeless drug addicts, homeless alcoholics, and it’s a place where hookers openly tout for business. All these people want is money to feed their addictions. On any given day, you’ll see men and women alike huddled in doorways shaking as they come down from the high of the night before. People sleeping in doorways, covered by nothing more than a sheet of cardboard. People pushing shopping carts full of plastic bags or clothes they try to sell in order to earn enough for their next hit.

A once wonderful structure, the old Carnegie Library is now nothing but a shell of its former beauty. It’s been destroyed by the homeless who hang around outside it, its use now being a meeting place for the people who frequent the area. The street around it is littered with garbage. Across the street in stark contrast, is the headquarters of the Vancouver Police Department, its officers helpless to do anything about these people. On those days when things are really bad, the Jeffers and I take a drive down there. It serves as a stark reminder that while things aren’t great, they could be so much worse.

Hastings and Main is a sad, sad place to be. My first view as we drove through right after we first moved to Vancouver had me gawping literally with my jaw resting on my knees. I couldn’t believe the state of some of those people. It became a kind of joke between the Jeffers and I, with us saying we’d end up in Hastings and Main if we weren’t careful with our spending.

The Jeffers has seen way more than I have of Hastings and Main, his route for work takes him down that area most days. He told me about a place known as “Pigeon Park,” this is a place where many homeless addicts pitch their tents for the night, he drove me down there a couple of nights ago, but at 2am, it seemed it was too early for people to be pitching their tents. We did, however, see someone touting for business. I said “Oh, look at her!” The Jeffers responded with “That’s a guy.” When pressed for details, he said he saw the clear evidence of facial hair. Apparently, everything but the hair on their head and the way they were dressed screamed male. I couldn’t do anything other than shudder.

One incident in particular highlights the sheer desperation of some of these people. The Jeffers was down in that area doing a box pickup for a client. He saw a woman in the Alley beside the old Carnegie library, picking rocks up off the ground, and placing them in a crack pipe trying to smoke them, in the hopes of finding a little rock that someone may have dropped. What a sad pathetic existence.

Last night, The Jeffers and I drove down there. We’d had a terrible day and we really needed a sort of “pick me up.” However, instead of feeling better, I felt worse than ever. These people right now, have no hope. They’re spending the winter outdoors with no protection, and no hope of making anything of themselves. They’re in the grip of addictions so intense, it rules their entire existence, and there’s no light at the end of the tunnel for them. While people laugh about those people, and talk about what losers they are, they don’t realize what I realized for the first time last night.

Those people aren’t losers. They’re strong, much stronger than the average person. And the reason I say that is because their existence is a tough one, and they’ve been dealt a shit hand. But as much as they have no hope, and as much as they are in the grip of an addiction, they’re survivors. If I had to live on the streets, I don’t know that I could do it.

Ciao.