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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.

The 900-block of Nelson Street was shut down again Saturday as a chemical leak in an adult learning centre continued to pose a potential health risk to anyone in the area.

The block was first closed off Friday around 6 p.m., when police became concerned about the fumes from a urethane foam product used in construction underneath the Pattison High School building at 981 Nelson Street.

At 2 p.m. Saturday, fire trucks, ambulances and police cars again descended on the area and blocked the entrances on Hornby, Smithe, Helmcken and Burrard. At least two dozen police officers and firefighters guarded the location, stringing up yellow police tape and screaming at passing pedestrians who accidentally wandered into the enclosed area. The fumes could be inhaled as far as a block away, emitting an intense odour that was similar to a cleaning product.

Battalion Chief Rod MacDonald said, “There was a lot of substance pumped into the lower level as a construction technique designed to jack up a cement slab. For some reason unknown to us, there were a lot of fumes. At 6 o’ clock [Friday], we thought that we had solved the problem.”

However, a fire broke out in the lower level of the building and it had to be evacuated at midnight, MacDonald said. “We don’t know what caused the fire. We believe it may be… a spontaneous kind of combustion,” caused by the interaction between the urethane foam and an unknown substance. “We poured a lot of foam down into that pit to try and stop the fire.” At that time, officials were told by an environmental hygienist that the air pollution was not dangerous.

Earlier Saturday morning, there was only one security guard patrolling the area and there were no barriers other than a few scattered orange cones. The fumes were overpowering at the entrance of the locked building. At that time, the guard, Harpal Singh, said, “It is not serious. The school will re-open Monday.”

“Since then, we’ve received information that it may not be harmless,” MacDonald said. “So now we’re doing everything we can to reduce the risk to the people in the area.”

A large condominium skyrise towers above the school. The evacuation of residents began around 3 p.m. when firefighters wearing gas masks and oxygen tanks, and carrying axes and flashlights, entered the building. The power had been off for an hour and the businesses at the base of the tower had long since emptied.

Installing a solar powered sign emblazoned with the words “Welcome to Collingwood” was one of the new ventures proposed at the annual Collingwood Business Improvement Association (CBIA) this past Thursday.

Also discussed in the back room of the Samosa Garden on Kingsway were three main goals of the non-profit CBIA. The association allocated 61% of its budget towards: Crime Prevention; Street Enhancements; and Marketing & Promotions in the last year and committed to these goals in the years to come.

Seven large tables were formally set with dinnerware but only four were used, while a chandelier provided soft light on the power point presentation.  Samosas and garlic infused naan appetizers were passed around and business owners greeted each other informally like old friends, slapping backs and discussing their families.

Despite a noticeable lack of Chinese business owners in an area that is dominated by bubble tea houses, Chinese language advertising and Asian grocery stores, the meeting commenced to approve a seven-year budget and reflect on the current fiscal atmosphere in Collingwood.

According to BIA documents, 71% of businesses in the area are made up of less than 5 employees and 25% have 5-20 employees. The CBIA was formed five years ago, said Jehangri Kara, owner of the Collingwood General Store and a board member, and his business style is to “work more, talk less” he said.

He also expressed disappointment with other board members who were absent from the meeting—part of the meeting agenda was to elect new board members.

Other attendees included business owners from chains like Starbucks and London Drugs and smaller shops like Simply Curries, Inc. and Bikram’s Yoga Metrotown.

Constable, Heather Brown from the Collingwood Community Policing Centre and local politicians, Don Davies, MP, Adrian Dix, MLA and Peter Vaisbord, coordinator of the BIA program from the Vancouver regional planning office, came to provide support and say a few words.

“Don’t tell the other BIAs but you’re my favorite BIA,” Vaisbord said to the audience which garnered a few laughs.

Almost everyone won door prizes of chocolate or wine at the end of the meeting among those who hadn’t left early.

Dix took his opportunity to speak to voice concern over the closing of three Collingwood elementary schools, “You know the children, they’re your customers,” he said after asking business owners to place petitions against closing the schools in their stores.

Dozens of elderly women and men funneled out of a lone stairwell and onto the sidewalk on an overcast and otherwise quiet Saturday afternoon in Vancouver’s Chinatown.  Nearly all in the group held tissues or handkerchiefs to their noses, their words muffled as they spoke to one another.

“It seems the pepper spray got into the vents of the building and forced everyone out,” said Sandra M. Moore, an architect with Birmingham & Wood, who had come with her business partner to have a meeting about proposed renovations of the the Yue Shan Community Centre, the very building the group had funneled out of.  Moore stood out among the commotion, dressed in a grey business suit with briefcase and documents in hand.  When asked if this happens often, Moore smiled and gave a telling nod.

The Yue Shan is a three story building where people in the area – mainly elderly Chinese residents – meet, play mahjong, gamble and relax.  A sign above the entrance reads 370 E. Pender St; one block to the north, a mere two minute walk, runs the most notorious area of East Hastings St., known for some of Vancouver’s worst cases of homelessness, drugs, and prostitution.

Phyon Nguyen, the owner of Mr. Coffee, the cafe directly beside the Yue Shan and part of the actual building itself, provided insight into the incident.  “I know the man who did the spraying.   He is homeless and comes around here often.”  According to Nguyen, the man pepper sprayed the inside of her store out of frustration because she wouldn’t give him any food, which she sometimes does.

Chinatown has “experienced many challenges over the years, including community conflicts, economic hardships, shifting population trends, and the decline of nearby areas,” reads The City of Vancouver’s Chinatown Revitalization Program website.

“Before, there were a lot of homeless here.  “But the police have helped moved them out because of the Olympics,” said Nguyen, who has lived in Chinatown for 10 years.   “But before, I also saw a lot of tourists.  Now not so many.”  Nguyen cited the “negative image” people have of East Hastings Street, among other reasons, as to Chinatown’s economic slump.

Vancouver’s Revitalization program “seeks to preserve Chinatown’s unique heritage while bringing new life into the community.”  And while Nguyen and Moore are advocates of the program, the lingering smell of chemical pepper is a reminder of the complexities involved with an economical revitalization of the area.

By 5 p.m. on Monday, the UBC Student Union Building’s constant stream of students started dwindling to a trickle. A quieter tone began enveloping the building in contrast to when back pack laden students filled every corner, live music blared outside, and conversations inflamed over book prices.

It’s ninety eight dollars! Ninety eight dollars!

A cardboard cubicle plastered with design information on the more “sustainable” New Student Union Building stood in wait for student suggestions. So far there were three: affordable food, be open Sunday, and air conditioning or some alternative.

About every ten minutes a student or two wandered in with a slice of Pie R Squared pizza to pick a spot between the garbage-ridden tables. Remnants of a busier time lingered. Paper plates and napkins, glass bottles and cans, A&W and Starbucks cups mingled together with carelessly strewn newspapers. This was a site for fast-paced consumption and hurriedly moving on. A tall student with curly unkempt hair walked by a table, and without stopping, gave a few old drink containers a little shake before heading out the door, leaving the scene of garbage completely undisturbed.

Signs indicating which bins were for composting and which for recycling were located throughout the SUB, courteous of UBC Waste Management. Across the room a well-stuffed garbage can had the words, “STOP! Can this be recycled?” on the lid. Just above hung a hand sanitizer and a sign that read, “The Student Union Building is Monitored by Cameras.”

Three girls sat on the grey couches near the windows to eat their pizza. When finished they stood up, adjusted their backpacks and, while continuing their conversation, made a subtle attempt to leave. One girl stepped back, another leaned in the same direction, but then there was a pause. The memory of some social norm their parents may have instilled in them when they were children surfaced to challenge the new normal around them. They each picked up their plates and threw them in the garbage.

By 9 p.m. the cleaning staff began their nightly ritual. Quoc Nguyen has worked for UBC Food Services for five years. “It’s always the same,” he said, “but the cafeteria is worse! Sometimes the salt and pepper is poured all over the table and people draw pictures in it. But at least I get paid. It’s people’s attitudes. What can we do? There’s nothing we can do. Brain surgery?”

He laughed.

Preparing a dinner party for 150 might seem daunting, but volunteers at the First Baptist Church’s shelter service have pulled off the feat every Tuesday for over a decade. The weekly event provides some of the city’s most vulnerable men and women with a hot dinner and the option of spending the night.

On the menu this past Tuesday: meat chili, garden salad, fresh bread, apple cake, coffee and iced tea.

As with every week, the meal’s success hinged on the hands, hearts and labour of nearly 50 diverse volunteers.

Just two hours before the dining hall would be teeming, the church’s industrial-sized kitchen was filled with volunteers outfitted in plastic gloves and aprons. Each had a task.

Around an island counter-top, six university-aged men and women crowded together to cut veggies and sort fruit. They chatted loudly over the whir of oven fans and rock music. Across from them, a petite woman in her 30s whipped powdered sugar in a mixing bowl. Towering beside her, a man stirred pitchers of juice. Another volunteer mopped up coffee. The machine had overflowed, again.

“We have never had a slow Tuesday,” said Pastor Bob Swann, in reference to the large crew of volunteers. He began the program in March 1999.

Most volunteers said they attend every week when possible, and many speculated that only a minority were members of the church. One made a point of describing himself as agnostic.

Among the diverse group of lawyers, graduate students, artists, and recovering addicts, there was only one man in the kitchen who was not busy working.

“I am Security International,” said the 83-year-old French Canadian man of his role at the shelter. “My job is to make sure there is no trouble.”

A regular volunteer, he had assigned himself to the role of a doorman, despite being barely 5-feet tall with a curved spine.  At 9 p.m., when the doors were scheduled to open, he would join church staff at the Burrard Street entrance. “I only let love in [to the shelter],” he said. “If you have the big D [the Devil] in your heart, don’t bother to come in.”

While he introduced himself openly, the white-haired security guard requested not to have his name published in connection to his church work.

“I do this for the Lord only,” he said. “When we give our name we are too proud of what we do.”

Tensions regarding the level of care and resources at the West End’s St. Paul’s Hospital have continued to thrive despite the coalition’s success at impeding the relocation of the downtown health institution and historical monument.

Amongst the aged corridors of the building are crowded bulletin boards overflowing with pamphlets requesting donations. Further surrounding the building are brochures encouraging an entire revitalization of the hospital itself.

“Renewal is preferable and plausible,” said Brent Granby, president of the West End Residents Association.

“90000 people live within walking distance. Inevitably this is a necessary spot for a hospital,” he added.

St Paul’s Hospital, a historical milestone in the West End, stands ominously shadowing the countless nearby office buildings with its tall red brick towers and dramatic architecture. Hundreds of hurried citizens walk past the hospital while others sit to rest on the benches in front.

And while this simply describes the busy atmosphere outside of the building, the ambience within proves to be more hectic.

The long white hallways fill with the sounds of metal clattering and drumming of the hospital carts being rolled down the corridors. Doctors appear stressed as they hurriedly pass from room to room. A young girl, barely a teenager, lies publically ill on a gurney in the waiting room for everyone to witness.

“The level of care is fairly great but inevitably it’s an issue when staff have to work a little bit better to make up for less resources,” said Granby.

Although the protection of the downtown location was preferred by majority of the community, this does not come without visible challenges.

For one, the lack of space is evident. Outside one room a elderly woman complains about her roommates’ visitors being too noisy. Inside, two additional patients sleep soundly despite the noise.

“In a time in which disease rates are growing and the population is expanding this is difficult,” said Granby, “having single rooms is preferable.”

Not to mention the inherent architectural constraints that occupy a building built over a century ago. The arrangement of the hospital is, in fact, paradoxical.

While the doctors and visitors in good health run up and down the large stairwell, the patients in wheelchairs wait patiently in line for a small single elevator looking impatient.

Solutions will not come easily. Will the government finally agree to the costs of revitalization, silencing the feuds that have been ongoing since 2002? And yet, if the hospital continues to function downtown will renovations alter the traditional architecture of a historical landmark that has been standing for hundreds of year.

Members of the public voiced both praise and condemnation for the proposed Marine Gateway development at an open house and information session, held Wednesday. It was jointly hosted by City of Vancouver planning staff and the rezoning applicant and proposed developer of the area, PCI Development Corp.

The intermittent whirring of the Canada Line SkyTrain could be heard through the open door of the unused auto parts and service building where the session was held. Each passing of a train was accompanied by a fresh wave of interested attendees. With a welcome from Beverly Chew, a Community Developer with the City, attendees collected a coffee and a cookie and listened to Chew’s introduction.

To the left was the developer’s 3-D renderings of the proposed Marine Gateway complex: an 890,000 square foot mixed use development constructed to LEED Gold standards.  It  features a movie theater, grocery and drug stores, restaurants, condominiums, rental units and offices.

And to the right, the City’s presentation of the rezoning application, its elements and the public consultation process.  “Most people don’t seem to understand the rezoning process,” said Chew, pointing to the placards on display around the room.

Attendees gathered in clusters, chatting amongst themselves about the features being presented. Representatives from the City and from PCI circulated, offering to answer questions.

“I’m quite involved in the whole thing,” said Randy Pilon, a resident of the area. Pilon is well aware of the proposal.  He was first contacted over a year ago. “It’s sort of like bringing a bit of downtown to our neighbourhood.  I’m giving it two thumbs up,” said Pilon.

However, at a height of 350 feet and an area approaching 1 million square feet, the development has opponents. PCI has revised its application twice, both in response to concerns regarding the overall size of the complex, the shadows it would cast, increased population density and traffic congestion.

“I’m fifty-fifty on the idea,” said Luchian Teodoropol, another attendee. Teodoropol is not a resident of the immediate community but passes through the area daily. “You can smell the waste transfer facility,” he said. “I’m not sure if anyone will want to live here.  It’s very industrial.”

Indeed, the faint smell of decaying matter is undeniable, so too is the presence of the surrounding industrial facilities and a corresponding parade of heavy truck traffic.

The developer’s rezoning application includes plans to remedy the smell. PCI “proposes to fund odour reduction work for the existing South Vancouver Transfer Station,” according the application.  But there are no plans to rezone the surrounding industrial area. The focus, according to the Cambie Corridor – Interim Rezoning Policy, is on the so called “civic gateway entrance.”

We all need a little food comfort in our lives, especially if you’re unsure of where you’re next meal is going to come from, and that’s where the Renfrew/Collingwood Food Security Institute comes in.

Through their Community Kitchen located in the Collingwood Neighbourhood House (CNH), the Institute provides a place to learn about cooking healthy food—for free—and then distributes the food that is made to the community.  Volunteers engage to learn a new cooking technique in the hopes they’ll share their new skills with others, often using ingredients from the roof top garden or other local and sustainable growing practices.

Once a volunteer, Stephanie Lim, Program Coordinator, says the Community Kitchen has been around for four years and she has been leading cooking classes for two.  She said volunteers get to keep some of the food they make but most of it is donated back to the program. On Saturday mornings, for example, the Institute provides a nutritious meal to homeless people, along with a shower and more amenities provided by the CNH and Homelessness Committee.

In the kitchen, four volunteers stand around the large kitchen island chopping vegetables while Lim pours out mason jars of expired or burnt jam preserves from a year ago into the garbage.

“Botulism is silent in all its various forms,” she says. Jars are hard to find in the cluttered kitchen but necessary for the day’s workshop canning spaghetti sauce.  Aprons are hidden in a boiling pot on the counter along with the other pots, pans, plates, colanders and bowls.

Thirty pounds of tomatoes sit waiting to be scored, and then they will be blanched and peeled to make nine pints of sauce. After the tomatoes have boiled, Lim returns them to a commercial-size mixing bowl. Dousing them in cold water the tomatoes are returned to the table and all at once the volunteers grab steaming tomatoes to slip off the skins.

The volunteers represent a portion of the cultural make-up of the area. Recognizing that the Institute hopes to develop community food leadership teams and develop a sustainability food security plan based on local assets, according to their website.

But for now, everyone’s focused on learning a new skill, meeting new people, and helping out the community—one jar of sauce at a time.

Patrick Yacyshen stood alone in front of London Drugs in Kerrisdale on a weekday afternoon, selling copies of Megaphone, a magazine sold on the streets of Vancouver by homeless and low-income vendors.

Men in suits and ties chatted on a bench nearby while well-dressed elderly women walked in and out of the drug store.  The streets are calm.  Occasionally, a BMW, Mercedes, or Lexus drove by.  Polite chatter in low volumes and occasional voices of children walking by can be heard.

Yacyshen, in his clean tan-coloured shirt, jacket and pants, did not appear to be out of place.  He wore a hat with the label “John Deere” and brown shoes that seemed relatively new.

If it wasn’t for the distinct name of the magazine he was holding with his well-groomed hands, he could easily be mistaken for another middle-class working man.

Yacyshen is from Saskatchewan and he moved to Vancouver in 1994.  He used to work as a draftsperson, drafting anything from oil rigs to pipelines. He was laid off when natural gas prices were lowered a couple of years ago.  Now he works as a vendor of Megaphone magazine, and even writes for it occasionally.

Yacyshen said that most vendors work downtown, but he prefers to work in Kerrisdale because it has a more “relaxing” atmosphere.  He makes the trip to Kerrisdale daily to sell the magazines.  He said he can be found in front of London Drugs Monday to Friday and in front of Shopper Drug Mart on Saturdays.  He tries to take Sundays off.

Copies of Megaphone are bought by vendors for 50 cents each, but Yacyshen said there are plans for this price to be raised to 75 cents each.  The suggested donation for a magazine is $2, but he said many customers donate up to $5 to $10.

Yacyshen stays downtown at the Yale, a hotel that is known for its rhythm and blues nightlife scene.  He said rent is $460 a month and luckily, he has access to his own bathroom and shower.

Through uneven but clean, white teeth, Yacyshen said he is still quite healthy.

A block away, a man sat with several bags of his belongings in front of the Liquor Store and played music on his shiny wooden guitar.