A DAY IN TORONTO

I’m back in Toronto. This is the first place I visited when I first got to Canada, with only US$6.00 in my pockets. That day I was very lucky, my Guardian Angel once again saved me, but that’s part of a different story.

It’s very early in the morning. I get off the Couch Canada bus and walk to the community house where they feed the homeless. Well, that’s exactly what I am right now, and I actually feel no shame about it. I wait in line. I finally make it to the counter; there is milk, coffee, cereal, whole wheat bread, eggs and some kind of a weird sausage. The sausage is dripping oil, but I’m not sure if later I’ll regret not to have eaten it. I eat it.

I’m now 10 pounds lighter than I was when I first got here. After all the French, English sounds beautiful to my ears. I’m actually excited chatting with a few homeless drug addicts who I just met in the dining room. Nice people. They speak English, which makes them very nice.

I walk to the library, it’s just a few blocks away. I get on Craigslist hoping I will find something this time. I spend my turn and ask for new one. Fortunately the person in charge is not the same one who gave me the first guest pass. I get a new one very easily. The second turn is over. There is now some sort of a class and no more turns are released.

I go to the lower floor and start reading about several topics: sports, nutrition, Greek philosophy, first aid techniques, tribes of Mexico, history of Canada, Easy French, professional fishing, the holocaust, etc. I get hungry, by reading all this stuff I spent all of the calories I had consumed at my morning breakfast. I go to another community house. At this one, through a window they give me a ham sandwich in two slices of whole wheat bread and ketchup, and a bottle of water. I only eat half of the sandwich, as I need to “split” my caloric intake so it lasts longer in my stomach.

I go back to the library. I get a new guest pass. I cross my fingers and open my mail hoping there is a response. There are several, I start replying. My turn is over, I had not enough time again. I get nothing. I wasn’t very lucky this time. Well, that happens.

I have a few “calling quarters”; now I know how valuable they are. I insert a couple of quarters. There’s good news on the other side. I look up and thank.

JPDR (Toronto, 2008)