july 27: the last line of your post GOT me. the smoke where i am wasn't as bad this year, but i will never forget that orange midday sky and paled sun. very stifling, even though we weren't breathing in as much smoke as the people closer to the fires.
this photo is a view i won't have again for a long time (and hopefully the smoke-induced orange will be too for all of us), but i wanted to use it a) because i haven't been walking during sunset hours lately, and b) because it's a strip mall. not a typical one, it was mostly local businesses, but when i was there, i felt similar feelings to those i experience at my local megamall. this is going to be a long one...
way back, i wrote that i planned on writing about malls and eyes. so here goes: after the lockdown ended, the strangest thing was going to that mall (which actually has a name that isn't so different from megamall). i had spent months only seeing my family and the typical fellow person walking or biking around the neighbourhood to keep from being stir crazy. those in the latter category were usually on the opposite side of the street, oftentimes because one of us moved there to prevent a less than 2 metre apart crossing.
walking through the hall of this mall was intense. even though there may have been less people than usual (and not anymore), it felt like a river. everyone moving in one direction was supposed to remain on one side of the hall, but you had to cross over to go to a store on the other side, and some people just didn't, and don't care.
seeing so many eyes, it probably felt unnerving because everyone had a mask. but i couldn't help but think that i also felt uneasy because this was the most people i had seen in many months, and i hadn't had an interaction with a single one of them.
you can immerse yourself in the intensity of a crowd but still feel so lonely.
on a nicer note, based on the few nice interactions i've had in the past year, i want to say that i've somehow improved at talking to strangers since i graduated from high school.
maybe in high school, i was always going from one place to the next, whether it be to a scheduled event or back home.
there was this one time i was walking home from the bus after a school day, and i either noticed an old man walking behind or in front of me. i wondered where he was headed and how come i'd never seen him around (that makes it seem like i lived in a tiny neighbourhood, which i did not, but normally i would only see people in their yards or walking their kids back from school). i was so tempted to talk to him, but i did not. and i most likely had no language barrier excuse.
i felt bad, too. seniors lived in times when people did greet each other. how cold we are nowadays, that we can pass someone on the narrow sidewalk and not even breathe a greeting.
my relatives who have lived in much colder parts of the country think that mine is one of the most isolating cities because we never speak to strangers. they think that because of the weather, even in bigger cities, people will check in on strangers to make sure they're okay.
i like that a lot, but i know that it's not always true. and that wouldn't explain why people may be friendlier in other cities when it's sunnier and warmer.
i know i couldn't live in a small town (i've done it for a full month and that was frankly enough, i need diverse food is what it boils down to). (i didn't say that to the friendly cashier who came from that town).
but having a full conversation with my neighbour isn't too much to ask for of myself, is it?
it most likely won't happen before i leave. i'd be happy to meet our neighbours this august, though!
