grid system
Since my arrival in Vancouver almost a month ago, I have been using the public transit system as my main means of transportation. Although this is not my first time exposed to this type of conveyance, by any means, it is the first time I have used the bus/train to consistently commute everywhere on a regular basis. Might I add that it is quite different being a passenger on the bus in Winnipeg compared to being a sardine on the bus in Vancouver. It absolutely amazes me to experience firsthand how many people come and go everyday from the centre of this big city, and how many bodies you can pack into a sky train compartment. You really are just another head bobbing through the crowds of people slowly moving from one stop to another with the recurring ‘beep’ of your compass card as you transfer through the different stations. Methodically making your way up and down, and side to side through the veiny web that connects the grid system referred to as Vancouver.
I spend a significant chunk of my day commuting to and from downtown Vancouver, a time when I place my mind on autopilot and let the vehicular whir lull me into an alternate world of thought. It is a time to wake up (on my way to work) and a time to unwind (on my way home from work), and alter intuitively, I find a healthy amount of solace on the jam-packed bus as I go about my daily routine.
As much as I enjoy the time to myself to think, call people back home, or listen to TSN 1290, I cannot get away with completely sugar-coating the bus experience in its entirety. There are times when the stuffiness feels disgusting, and the overabundance of different smells can hit you at any given time. There are rambunctious sets of boys heading home from their first Timbits hockey game, a group of young men expending energy to get all their grocery items home in one piece, and an elderly woman accepting the seat the freckly teenager gave up for her. A business man checking his never-ending inbox of unread emails, a homeless person collecting all their belongings in preparation to get off at the next stop, and the occasional bus driver with a lead foot. Every day is different.
Being the people-watcher I am, you can imagine that the portion of my brain responsible for observation is in complete overload during my everyday trips. I sit and watch these things unfold before me; little interactions, split second moments that can so easily go unnoticed. I constantly find myself wondering, ‘what is their story?’
However, through my transit experience thus far, I have found myself quite deeply bothered, and the other day I was able to pinpoint why.
I know that with the societal surge of technology and the ongoing concern with our lack of face-to-face interaction, it is nothing new to hear about how we live such disconnected lives in an overly connected world. Nonetheless, I’m going to say it anyway. The thought of our gradually declining ability to coexist with others in a personal way is something that continuously disturbs me. Being a Communication major, it is completely unsettling to feel that we, as humans are becoming oblivious to the fact that we find it much more appealing to converse over a screen than to approach someone in person.
Last week, as I was on the sky train thinking about the anti-social aura that filled the compartment, I decided to take out my earbuds and look around. Discouragingly enough, there was no one within an arms length who wasn’t listening to music or on their phone – blocking out their surroundings completely. Don’t get me wrong, I am a huge fan of alone time and being able to take time to think and re balance yourself in whatever shape or form that may be. But the fact of the matter is that I looked around that train, curious and open to the idea of who I could possibly talk to, and there was no one even remotely interested.
Upon further reflection of my transit system encounters, I came to the realization that we are not only closed off to social interaction in this setting, but even further still, we are scared and completely caught off guard when these interactions happen to present themselves. A perfect example came the other day as I was walking to my bus stop and a young man said something to me out of nowhere. Even though he wasn’t saying anything offensive or obnoxious in any way, I felt my heart start to race and the shock rush through my body as the well known “fight or flight” technique made its way to the forefront of my mind. This leads me to another thought…why does it need to be one or the other? Fight or flight. Both suggest some sort of defense is necessary, but why is that the automatic reaction to social engagement. It leads me to believe that we are so preoccupied with our own goings on that we are completely caught off guard when someone does in fact decide to reach out to us.
As I stand there on the bus as it lurches from stop to stop, I catch myself holding my breath as I wait to see if I will witness any type of verbal exchange during the course of the trip. Of course, I do not. I begin to rack my own brain to try and come up with a conversation starter I could use as an attempt to connect with a complete stranger for an unknown amount of time (depending on how long they are riding the bus for). This exercise was a lot harder than you’d think. Do I start with a compliment? Do I ask them a question? I know that people can find any type of directed personal inquiry extremely invasive very quickly.
Nonetheless I have decided to try and practice what I preach, push myself out of my comfort zone and embark on a social experiment of my own. I am going to try and talk to at least one stranger a day at some point during my commute to or from work. Something for myself that I know will be both uncomfortable and a lot harder than it sounds. I want to try it though, not only to learn from my own experiences, but also from those of my fellow passengers. I am curious to see how people receive my small invitations to interact.
Wish me luck.
A