Vancouver Vibes: Beauty, Noise, and the Battle for Sanity 🇨🇦

🌆🇨🇦🔥Vancouver Vibes: Beauty, Noise, and the Battle for Sanity 🇨🇦🔥🌆

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

It’s sunny in Vancouver. People smile. The city glows. But beneath the sunshine, there's a pressure cooking. Traffic jams, construction noise, honking horns, sirens, electric scooters whizzing by, luxury cars, fire trucks, delivery vans, cats and dogs and geese crossing streets, and the nonstop grind of development. It's noise, noise, noise.

Where is the peace?

There are studies — and more being done — about the mental health impacts of urban noise. And still, city planners race forward. No foresight. No pause. The result? People are cracking. Anxiety. Depression. Burnout. Seniors getting robbed in daylight. Ambulances rushing to overdoses. People dying in streets, hidden or exposed.

Ten years ago it felt bad. Now it’s worse. Way worse.

COVID didn’t just hurt us — it wounded the city. Then came Gentrification 2.0. Families arriving from Paris and elsewhere, saying how much better Vancouver is. They work remotely, raise kids in million-dollar homes. I was a nanny once, part of their immigration puzzle. When I asked to house-sit while they visit Paris — no answer.

At least I’m walking a friend’s dog now. She immigrated long ago, has some money, and is kind. But her health is fading. She's glued to Netflix and a tablet game. The dog sometimes poops in the house. I worry.

I remember 20 years ago — Pickton trial. Women vanishing. Today? Still. Murmurs of people banging from inside shipping containers. No port cops. The fear remains.

I’ve lived in BC for 63 years. Vancouver since 1993. Kits since 1997. I know this place. I've seen Hope, the Kootenays, Victoria, Duncan (WOOFING), Kelowna. Vancouver looks like a dream but hides a nightmare. If gentrification weren’t so intense… maybe there’d be space to breathe.

Sometimes I feel hopeless. But then I hear my mom in my head: "There’s always hope."

We lived beyond Hope — literally. After my dad died, my mom started again. Two heart attacks, open-heart surgery (one of the first at St. Paul’s). She learned to drive at 45. Became a home support worker. Twelve years of service. A union shop steward with BCGEU. A fighter. A survivor. She saved me so many times.

It breaks my heart that she’s not here for my child. And that there were times I didn’t talk to her. Today, so many daughters aren’t speaking to their mothers. What forces are at work here?

Women — especially young women — are being targeted, manipulated, harmed in every possible way.

Pride is almost here. The parade returns this weekend. Remember: it’s a protest, not a party.

A protest against hate, against erasure, against ignorance.

And what about the future? One year? Two?

Will an earthquake destroy everything? A solar storm cut the power? Smoke choke the skies? Floods? Fires? We can't survive heat domes in glass towers. And yet condos sell for $3000+/month. Mansions list at $32 million. How will they cool their homes when there’s no power?

Does anyone care?

Or like the song says — “Is there anybody out there?”

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🌞🌍🇪🇸 Versión en Español

Vancouver está soleado. La gente sonríe. Pero debajo del sol hay presión, mucho estrés. Tráfico, sirenas, construcción, ruido constante. Bicicletas eléctricas, ambulancias, camiones. Es difícil encontrar paz.

Estudios muestran que este ruido urbano afecta la salud mental. Aun así, los urbanistas siguen construyendo. ¿Y los resultados? Robos a plena luz del día. Muertes en las calles. Personas colapsando.

COVID nos dañó, y luego vino la gentrificación. Familias extranjeras diciendo que Vancouver es mejor que París. Trabajan desde casa. Compran casas caras. Mientras los locales luchan por sobrevivir.

Yo cuido a un perro ahora. Su dueña inmigró hace años. Tiene dinero. Pero su salud está decayendo. Se distrae con Netflix y videojuegos. Me preocupo por ella… y por el perro.

Recuerdo hace 20 años — el juicio de Pickton. Mujeres desaparecidas. Hoy en día, aún pasa.

Llevo 63 años en BC. Conozco esta tierra. Vancouver parece hermosa, pero hay un lado oscuro y aterrador.

A veces me siento sin esperanza. Pero escucho a mi madre: "Siempre hay esperanza."

Este fin de semana es el desfile del Orgullo. Recuerda: es una protesta, no una fiesta.

Y el futuro es incierto. ¿Terremotos? ¿Tormentas solares? ¿Incendios? ¿Quién sobrevivirá cuando no haya electricidad ni aire acondicionado?

¿A alguien realmente le importa?

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🌈🌍🇫🇷 Version Française

Il fait beau à Vancouver. Les gens sourient. Mais sous le soleil, la pression monte. Circulation, sirènes, chantiers, bruit permanent. Vélos électriques, ambulances, camions. Il est presque impossible de trouver du calme.

Des études montrent que ce bruit urbain nuit à la santé mentale. Pourtant, les urbanistes continuent à construire. Résultat ? Agressions, overdoses, morts dans la rue.

Le COVID nous a tous blessés. Puis est venue la gentrification. Des familles disent que Vancouver est mieux que Paris. Elles travaillent à distance, achètent des maisons chères. Pendant que nous, on survit.

Je garde le chien d'une amie. Elle a de l'argent mais sa santé décline. Accro aux jeux et à Netflix. Je m’inquiète pour elle… et pour le chien.

Il y a 20 ans : le procès Pickton. Des femmes disparues. Et aujourd'hui ? Encore.

Je vis en Colombie-Britannique depuis 63 ans. Vancouver est belle… mais cache un côté sombre et dangereux.

Parfois je perds espoir. Mais j’entends la voix de ma mère : "Il y a toujours de l’espoir."

Ce week-end, c’est la Fierté. Souvenons-nous : c’est une protestation, pas une fête.

Le futur est incertain. Séismes, orages solaires, incendies. Que fera-t-on sans électricité, sans climatisation ?

Est-ce que quelqu’un se soucie vraiment ?