An Unlikely Encounter in Kitsilano: Reflections on Change and Displacement

 Last week, I took a stroll through Kitsilano, a neighborhood I’ve called home on and off since 1997. The familiarity of the area has always brought me comfort, so I decided to visit the Maritime Museum, a quaint spot filled with memories of old boats and local history.

While wandering around the around the old boats, I struck up a conversation with a man I’d never seen before. He was there on his boat, but I quickly noticed something strange: I didn’t recognize his boat. As a longtime resident, I’ve seen many boats come and go, but this was new to me. Curious, I asked him about them, and we dove into a lengthy discussion.

He mentioned that he kept his boat over in North Vancouver(or close), but the marina had fallen into disrepair. “The Natives didn’t upkeep it,” he said casually, a phrase that immediately raised my eyebrows 🧐🤨and stirred my curiosity. I pressed him for more details, and it turned out he was giving his boat to a friend who runs the Maritime museum because there was nowhere else for him to dock it. 

If he couldn’t find a home for it, the only option left would be to crush it. 😱

As the conversation unfolded, I began lamenting the rapid changes in Kitsilano and Vancouver as a whole. Towers and high-rises were springing up everywhere, and to my surprise, he confessed to having played a significant role in their development. 

He lived on the North Shore, and now he felt the same changes he had contributed to were destroying the very character of the place he once loved. 😬🤔😱

It was a disturbing conversation, to say the least. Here was someone who, in his pursuit of development, was grappling with the consequences of his actions. The tension between progress and preservation was palpable, leaving me with a lingering sense of unease.

As I politely made my exit from the conversation, I couldn’t help but reflect on the complex nature of change. It’s fascinating how life can present unexpected encounters that force us to confront the narratives we tell ourselves about our communities. In a city like Vancouver, where the skyline is ever-changing, it’s essential to pause and consider the stories that accompany that change—stories of displacement, nostalgia, and sometimes regret.

And so, as I continued my walk through the neighborhood, I carried these reflections with me, reminded that every corner of this city has its own story, shaped by the people who inhabit it.