Category: Richmond

Six worshipers followed a nun’s lead in a slow procession, their palms pressed together in front of them. Their chanting echoed off the temple walls. A thin line of smoke rose from an incense pot in the centre of the hall while gold Buddha statues, surrounded by flowers, glistened in the sun.

The middle statue extended a hand to the worshipers – a Hindu, a white man in Buddhist robes and a woman of mixed faith.

The diversity of worshipers who gathered at the Lingyen Mountain Temple on Saturday afternoon is a common sight. The temple, which stands along the Highway to Heaven, shares a fence with two Christian churches, faces another church across the street and is within walking distance of a synagogue, mosque, and Sikh, Hindi and Tibetan temples.

Many Sikhs and Hindus come to the Lingyen temple, according to volunteer Gary Wu. Devon, a devout Hindu, first came to the temple during Chinese New Year celebrations. He enjoyed the atmosphere and started to attend Buddhist workshops in addition to practicing Hinduism.

“I’ve never felt pressure to change my faith here,” he said. “It’s the most loving place I’ve been to.”

Scott McMyn’s burgundy robe and shaved head gave him an aura of authority in the chanting procession. McMyn works at a mental health institute and comes to the temple to regain his strength.

“I repair the damaged organ – my brain,” he said after describing his struggle with one patient.

McMyn was the first Caucasian to complete an advanced, 3-day Buddhist ceremony at a Vancouver temple, which involved chanting for 12 hours each day.

Donna Hemingson moved to the temple’s neighbourhood over a year ago. She received a Dharma name in a Buddhist initiation ceremony, but is also open to the Jewish, Christian and Muslim faiths.

The Lingyen temple offers youth education programs, mediation workshops and free vegetarian meals. Since the temple currently operates at full capacity, its administration plans to expand by building a larger temple on adjacent land.

An open house was held on Sept. 15 to give community members a chance to comment on the expansion designs.

The pace in the temple slowed after the evening meal as the monks prepared for their chants and worshipers headed for the parking lot. Across the road, the Christian church invited a new round of visitors to the Highway of Heaven with its billboard announcement of the upcoming Sunday service.

Children’s screams reverberated from the Henry Anderson Elementary School on Monday afternoon as two large dogs ripped through the school playground.

The children were playing outside during their lunch break when they saw the rottweilers racing toward them. Many children ran to the school while teachers and older students tried to chase the dogs off the grounds.

A panicked voice called: “They’re from the house next door, but nobody’s home!”

Pabby Nigger was preparing lunch when she heard the doorbell ring. An unfamiliar woman with a small dog stood on the porch. The woman was visibly angry and started to curse at Nigger when she opened the door.

Asked about what happened, the woman complained that Nigger’s rottweilers attacked her dog. As Nigger hurried back into the house, she noticed that her four-year-old dogs, Paris and Exel, were missing from their backyard pen. She heard screams from the school playground, one house away, and started to run.

By this time, the teachers gathered all children inside the school. No one was injured.

Kindergarteners pressed their faces against the front window, which overlooks the parking lot. Older students peered out of the portable classrooms at the back of the school. Their excited conversations carried across school grounds.

The dogs ran across the parking lot and circled the building. Nigger followed. She was able to catch them quickly after they obeyed her command.

“She got them now!” sighed one of the teachers in relief when Nigger turned the corner, holding both dogs by their collars.

Catherine Ludwig, the elementary school’s vice-principal, ordered to keep the children in the building for the remainder of lunch. She stressed that the incident was very serious for the school.

The Richmond Animal Protection Society arrived shortly after the incident. They questioned Nigger, but let her return home with the dogs after agreeing that their escape was an accident.

“This has never happened before,” Nigger said as she sat in her living room next to her husband. He was equally surprised by the event.

Inside the school, Ludwig’s voice sounded over the public address system.

“Children, everything is going just fine,” she said. “We’re doing OK and we’re very proud of you.”

The parking lot and playground became quiet as classes resumed. There were no visible reminders of the afternoon except for the large footprints etched into the playground’s sandbox.

The Summer Night Market in Richmond was a celebration of love and cheap foreign goods. Five dollars were enough to buy a pair of Korean socks, a “don’t eat eraser”, and a curry fish ball with dried pig skin and radish. Despite the low prices, there were more people holding hands than there were people holding shopping bags.

The couples drifted among blue tents without any sense of urgency. Their eyes grazed the heaps of merchandise that lay on the tables in a search for useful trinkets. Along the way, they distractedly bumped into other market visitors, rarely apologizing or glancing back.

Tents that sold cellphone accessories, stationary and leggins monopolized every alley in the market, but the vendors who sold different products generally received more attention.

A head in an orb that was on display at a costume shop had a magnetic pull for shoppers. People shoved each other to get a closer look at the head and anxiously reached out to stroke the glass surface. Their enthusiasm dampened slightly when they learned that the head was not for sale.

This announcement came from the tent’s vendor – a black man in a striped fedora, tropical shirt, giant sunglasses and gold chain. The vendor was twirling in his tent and singing to the radio.

In the next tent, Zhixin Situ sat idly behind a line of cupping equipment that emitted a sinister, yellow glow. The overhead sign, Human Pain and Insomnia, failed to draw in customers and Situ’s three portable massage chairs stood empty throughout Friday night.

“It’s very disappointing,” said a senior man who was sitting on a pedestal by Victoria’s Psychic Shop. “So far it just looks like junk.”

The man drove from Coquitlam with his wife and was visiting the market for the first time.

A young woman who was searching for cellphone accessories disagreed.

“Everything here is so cheap!” she said excitedly. She spent $10 on her purchases at the market and said that the same products would cost her $50 elsewhere.

The biggest crowds clustered around the food tents. Colourful menus and the aroma of deep fried meat bombarded the newcomers: yam fries, marinated duck gizzards and an image of Osama bin Laden on a donkey selling barbecued lamb skewers.

The couples held hands even as they sampled the different foods. The celebration of love and cheap goods continued in unison.

The community’s entire arsenal of megaphones could not get the boys off the basketball courts. They jumped, dribbled, ducked and swivelled to get to the hoops. The girls stood on the bleachers, watched the players and chewed pink cotton candy.

In the background, adults huddled together to revise their event strategy. Whenever they managed to escort the teens to the sidelines, preschoolers rushed up to play another game.

The kids and their families converged on the South Arm Community Centre on Friday to celebrate the official opening of the first rubber courts in the Lower Mainland. The smell of fresh rubber and popcorn permeated the night air.

The boys were decked out in spandex shorts and their sport heros’ jerseys. Most of their runners were worn down and had chewed up shoelaces. A select few modelled runners with bold red colours and futuristic adhesives.

The boys brushed past the girls on their way to the courts and carefully avoided any mothers that were watching the games from the bleachers.

“It’s pretty male dominated,” laughed Amy Xu, a Grade 12 student. Xu was at South Arm as part of her mission to obtain 100 community service hours she needed for graduation.

Only the lure of free hot dogs was strong enough to pluck the boys from the basketball courts. Beside the food tents, high school student Vanessa Hui savoured her latest hot dog.

“It’s my seventh one,” Hui explained to her mother and eight-year-old sister when they approached. “And I don’t even like hot dogs.”

Her earlier conquests included five cotton candy swabs and a bag of popcorn.

At the next tent, Avneet Hayer collected donations for Hoops4Hope, an organization that delivers used basketball equipment to children in Africa. Michael Hilario, a student volunteer, helped her pack the boxes.

“We’ve only just met today, but we’re best friends now,” Hayer joked as she hugged her assistant.

Scott Schroeder, a burly Community Centre coordinator, blazed past them with a folded tent on his shoulder. Lights flicked on above the courts and a couple of volunteers stealthily whisked away the cotton candy machine.

The remaining volunteers faced an onslaught of boys who had waited in line for the candy, but succeeded in bribing them with a packaged snack mix.

The boys rushed back to the courts as soon as they seized the last of the food. There were no more megaphones to interrupt their games.

A young girl in yellow rain boots was dragging a dead fish by its tail. She seemed peculiarly out of place until a toddler caught up to her, carrying the same load.

The children’s parents were close behind, energetically swinging their own bags with fish. Their family venture had either an educational – a sign next to them read Wild Salmon Don’t Do Drugs – or an environmentalist purpose. The bottom half of the sign urged Just Say No to Farmed Salmon.

The sign, damp from the rain, was swinging next to a line of fishing boats at Fisherman’s Wharf in Steveston Village where a troupe of beaming fisherman exhibited their latest catch for a Sunday morning crowd. The boat decks heaved with sablefish, cod and every imaginable species of salmon. Up on the pier, people barely glanced at the tanks with crabs as they rushed toward the boats. The fishing season delivered a record salmon harvest in British Columbia and many Vancouverites wanted the chance to transform their own piece of history into grilled perfection.

Raincoat-clad customers hovered on the swaying dock and relentlessly poked each other with umbrellas. It was possible to tell how long each of them stood in line by how strongly their clothes smelled of fish and how enviously they eyed the other buyers’ bulging plastic bags.

“15 dollar, very good,” called a woman from a small fishing boat. She shoved one fish toward the crowd to emphasize the offer.

The sight of the majestic silver carcass drew sighs of appreciation from the audience. Several eager bystanders stepped forward to claim the fish.

Around the corner, an agile young man was negotiating with a woman in pink capri pants. The sign on his boat announced that he had run out of sockeye salmon and was now selling cod. People tripped over their rain boots as they ran from his boat in panic.

The sight of the man they encountered as they turned to the west dock did little to ease their anxiety. This was not an amateur customer. He had camouflaged himself in rainproof khaki wear and brought along a large storage container that now teemed with sea urchins and shrimp.

Lineups for fresh salmon remained steady throughout the day despite the relentless rain. Another line was forming several blocks away as people, some still holding their fish, waited to order defrosted beef patties at McDonalds.