Peel - Vendome - Bonaventure

Walked down from the McIntyre Medical Building where I often set up shop.  I have this little nook that I like to think of as mine.  It's in the Sir William Osler Library of the History of Medicine, in a spacious and clean part of the the 'bridge' that connects the McIntyre building 'proper' over to some of the other McGill buildings.  It has stained glass windows with various crests.  It's all old and very distinguished looking, but most importantly its quiet and there are very few students there.  I might encounter one other student working along the opposite wall in amongst the book shelves behind me, and occasionally I might see some of the library staff on the level below, which is open through the middle part of the floor, giving the whole place a sense of open space.

I usually walk up there from where I work in the mornings at the main McGill library in the Sir John A. MacDonald reading room, where I have another nook with a good view of The Falcon statue by the main entrance to the library.  At 10:30 am I walk up to McIntyre after getting my coffee and watching the news at the Desautels Business Building.  From 11 to 12 I work at McIntrye/Osler then have lunch on floor five of the same building.  There's a row of six industrial-looking microwaves where I usually heat up my lunch.  This building is located at one of the highest points on campus, so you can take your lunch out, walk across the road and you're in the leafy environs of Mount Royal.  Usually I just eat in the cafeteria so I can get right back to work straightaway.

So, today, since it's so nice out, and since I'm probably working tomorrow as well, I decide upon a little metro ride.  I haven't been on the metro since being back in Montreal this trip, and I have this special blog devoted to Montreal's metro.  I head down to the Peel station by way of Stanley Street, and go down.  This station is right across from the YMCA where I used to take french lessons.  It's also right next to one of the better English language bookstores in town, and Indigo is there too.  I witnessed a couple airing their grievances there in public, and quite loudly, a week or so ago.  It was all very touchingly rough and tumble, with men transforming themselves instantly from slouchy-sweaty mopers into straight-back bouncer types to protect the woman from the 'bad guy' harassing her.

Down into that rabbit hole I go, heading for Lionel-Groulx station where I must transfer to get to Vendome.  I try to notice something interesting and it takes a while.  It's like no time has passed at all, and I'm just as jaded and calloused to it all as before I left.  But soon enough something hits me.  I notice that there are many people who will challenge the noise of the metro with their voices, determined to carry on the conversation no matter how loud it gets.  People talk very loudly over the squealing, screeching, and scratching sounds of the underground train, which only adds a whole other layer of madness to the scene, and makes it extra jarring.  There's also the heat generated from the rubber tires, and the heat almost seems to come from the sound itself.

It makes me think, is it possible or necessary to 'talk over the heat' in any sense?  I know this makes no sense, but it seems like something worth testing or writing about at least as a poetic exercise. I also notice at the same time older people trying to keep themselves 'neat', tucked in, hats straight (or neat, as in the rapper with his hat at just the right angle so it looks as though it will fall off his head when he nods off to sleep.)

Walking to Vendome to NDG and the Encore bookstore that is my final destination I think left/right as I'm passing some others on the street, getting tangled up in their trajectories, mixing up how cultural topologies dictate how we should treat each other as passersby.  I can stay on the left or on the right as needed in Canada when I'm riding my bicycle on the road, but when it comes to walking I'm more confused than ever before, tending to chaotic shifting between staying on the left or on the right.  People in Montreal, much like I used to do, seem to want to 'force' things to the right even going out of their way to do so.  I could happily stay left for all I care.  I places in England, on the tube, one is told (or it is implied for example on certain escalators) to stay right, though it seems against the English rule to drive on the left -- this is why I feel I have the right to do so, even though it violates Montreal cultural protocol.  This for some reason also reminds me how poor my french remains.

I'm walking back through residential Westmount to the almost finished massive McGill superhospital, surprisingly close to Vendome metro, I now see.  It hadn't seemed close in space when far in time it remained rubble pit or dormant structure.  Now this hub, hovering at the edge of Notre Dame de Grace/NDG seems happening.

Waiting in the Vendome metro on those J shaped reddy orange plastic benches that resemble elongated 3D elucidations of sitting the curve & back of the seats is simultaneously funky/retro and uncomfortable.  Video screens add to the retro, though they're flat.  Everything is a bit 'expo '67'.

Vendome to Bonaventure.  I mistakenly got off at Lionel-Groulx (Canada's most romantic metro? or it's most smell -- I can't decide).  The screens are much larger here and flat against the wall (in fact they are projected images) showing movie previews.  A shot of the Olympic Stadium flashed past at one point with its bird- or alien-head structure and rotten roof (that part wasn't shown).  Georges Vanier - Lucien L'Allier - Bonaventure -- connecting to RTL and the south shore bus line.

Crémazie

My apartment is exactly halfway between the Jarry and Crémazie metro stops. I can go to either one and it will make no difference, in terms of walking time, to my day. The advantage of going to the Crémazie stop is that it is north of Jarry. By getting on at Crémazie I, in essence, cut in front of all those getting on at Jarry.

Crémazie has the big snowflake sculpture on the wall. In another blog I documented the way that sculpture and the metro maps dovetail with each other: Cremazie Metro Maps

I am wondering, like I did with other stops such as Laurier before, if you can tell the difference between a Jarry and a Crémazie metro rider before they get off?

A Crémazie rider will be more a cosmopolitan beast than a Jarry rider. The reason for this is that the former stop is situated such that it spans, underground, the elevated freeway #40. There are park & ride people getting off and there are people who work in the bank, government and private sector offices that line the freeway.

Contrast that to Jarry, a few blocks south, and you are in the quiet old neighbourhood of Villeray where families live in peace and quiet.

Metro Gaps (Coming Back)

Taking a break from it all, from Montreal, this holiday season I had time to reflect on how my perception of the metro changes after even a small break. My first metro ride in a week was calm because it is still the holiday season, which makes it very difficult to compare to the time before I left, when people were still working and many had not yet begun their yearly break.

I was in Oklahoma for Christmas. My mother lives on a farm and it is usually very quiet. But there is a highway running past the house and at times it can be a bit noisy. The noise is the first thing I noticed upon coming back to the metro in Montreal. But the noise always bothers me no matter what. I never get used to it. The more time I spend on the metro the madder it makes me. Which is why a break is good. Taking a break is, for me, like hitting the reset button. I have cleared my buffer, so to speak, making room for all that noise to pile up until the next time I get to leave the city.

I got some 'sport' headphones with a gift card because my old headphones kept falling out after they lost the bits of rubber that hold them in place. These new headphones have a plastic hook that keeps the little speakers in the right place and at the correct angle. They also have rubber bits that look like earplugs. They do function as earplugs, but they let the sound through too. This is a beautiful thing on the metro. As mentioned in a previous post, music is essential for maintaining sanity during repetitive daily rides. It creates a sense of space that while not real, is effectively making a soundscape inside your head that replaces a real with a virtual (internal) space.

Watchers

I always wonder if I'm going to see another watcher, and if I do, I wonder if he or she is really watching as much as I do. I like to see everything that is going on around me when I'm sitting or standing inside the moving metro car. I check out each and every face, try to fathom what is going on inside. Usually people are stony faced or sleeping, if they are not focused right in on someone else and engrossed in some conversation, observation or argument.

But occasionally you see another watcher. You lock eyes and you realize, 'you're one of me!' Then you look away quickly, try to look somewhere else. But very soon it's back to the job, the job of seeing into lives, trying to see why someone would dress that way, act that way, see things that way, choose to associate with that person, read that book, carry that purse, listen to that music, have that haircut, be so conspicuous, don't they see what they are doing, all these people, in public, on display?

Metro Heat

A friend from the U.K. told me that the rubber tires (tyres) on the underground trains help stabilize the cars, making the ride much smoother. The tires are configured both vertically, in contact with a flat ledge running in parallel to the metal rail on which the actual steel wheel of the metro comes into contact, as well as horizontally, in contact with another flat ledge running also in parallel but perpendicular to the first ledge.

The real purpose of my friend's story was to complain about how hot it is in the metro stations. He told me that the friction from all those tires (at least ten per car) generates a lot of heat, which is why you sometimes feel like you are in an oven down there.

I've written about this elsewhere, but it is really hot in the summer in the metro but also in winter because you tend to be bundled up against the cold that is outside. But you have this 'interlude' where you go into a really hot crowded place where it would be quite difficult to shed layers only to have to put them back on again when you hike up the long stairs or escalators to go back out into the cold and blowing snow.

Jarry

This is my home stop. Cremazie is actually not much further away for me, and sometimes (often) I go to Cremazie instead. But this post is about Jarry.

Can you tell a Jarry person before they get off? I haven't really been able to do so. I'm always surprised in the moment, but afterwards I usually nod to myself 'I should've known!"

Jarry people are middle class, hard-working and unpretentious. This doesn't mean some are a little strange (or estranged) but usually not in a very affected or self-conscious way. They are authentically a bit strange.

This probably comes from living 'downtown' but not really being a part of that scene. We want to be close, but not too close. We love the Jean-Talon market, but are a bit put off by its crowded noisiness. We want to blend into the crowd.

As mentioned in a previous post, a lot of people get off at Jarry. I have never been able to figure out why at rush hour as many people often get off at Jarry as they do at Jean-Talon. For the latter it makes sense, as Jean-Talon is a hub. Jarry is not a hub.

Perhaps it is the fact that a lot of us work regular jobs and want quiet lives, but we are still committed to not having cars.

The 'vibe' I get when I'm in the Jarry metro is of something very functional. It's not freaky or run down in any way like some of the other stops (thinking d'Iberville or St. Henri, at least when I was there).

It is clean, functional and not really exceptional in any way. The roof pattern at the ticket booth is nice, and the general layout is pleasing. It is not oppressive feeling. The escalator out is not ridiculously long like say Namur (subject of a future post).

There's a great little Vietnamese sandwich shop in the Jarry metro building, and there is a standard little magazine shop too.

Jarry is my stop, and I can identify with it. It is just trying to get by.

On Stops

I want to devote a few posts to individual metro stops, stories of things that have happened to me there, or just meditations on the 'feelings' or 'vibes' I get a particular metro stations.

Matching the Person to the Stop Before They Get Off

This is especially applicable to Laurier metro stop for some reason. I can always tell the people on the train who are going to get off at Laurier! They have more class and style than the Mile Enders (who get off at Mont Royal). They also look better off overall. Mont-Royal people are 'hipper' but a little more affected. The Laurier stop people seem confident in themselves perhaps once or twice to the point of arrogance. But the Mile-End hipster arrogance always seems stronger and more consistent across the board.

Rosemont is pretty easy to spot. Rosemont is a non-place, and the people who get off there look a little displaced as a general rule. One more stop north at Beaubien is a whole different scene. Then you are into the market going yuppy crowd, young families living in quiet french speaking neighbourhoods.

The Jean-Talon stop individual usually has some cloth bags in tow, or they might be South American. A lot of all the previous stops get off here.

Jarry usually lets off even more people than Jean-Talon though Jarry is not a hub while Jean-Talon is. I think this is the case at rush hour but I'm not sure about other times. It would make sense at Cremazie because that stop is right beside the highway 40 and a logical place to park your car.

These are the stops I know best on the orange line.

On the green line the St. Laurent, Place-des-Arts and McGill crowds are pretty easy to sort out. The first are less well off, and very few. The second are well polished well off and sometimes snobby. The third are definitely snobby, and the vast majority get off here at rush hour. The university and the financial district are the main reasons for the mass exodus at McGill.

After that on the green line you've got your regular Concordia and beyond types: very nice and generally pleasant.

I'll keep posting more as my observations on this most interesting of phenomena continue.

On Not Taking the Metro

Some days you don't take the metro. These reasons for me could be: 1. I just don't want to be on the metro, period 2. I'd rather take the bus (you can see the passing sights, or look out the window just to avoid seeing all the people around you) 3. I'd rather walk (fresh air, sunshine, taking your time).

But on some days you just can't beat the metro. It is probably the fastest way to get anywhere that is reasonably close to a metro station. It is safer than riding your bicycle or even, perhaps, walking.

The metro also has its own charms, and might be my choice of the day simply because I'm in the right mood for the specific things the underground has to offer such as a variety of architectural styles of station; a closed atmosphere good for reading; and a wide variety of people thrown together from very disparate parts of the city.

The last aspect is pretty amazing. You go so fast from station to station that within minutes you start seeing people from different neighbourhoods: rich or poor; student or professional; young or old. This last aspect is a whole new blog post in itself: how you can tell which stop a given person is getting off at.

Dodgy Metro Behaviour

One time I was sitting at a corner seat, one of those great seats that is off by itself, not near any other seated person. I had my headphones on and I was enthralled by whatever it was I was listening to. Then a strange person got on the metro. I kept the music on, watching this weird guy act all jittery, bouncing his legs up and down, acting hyper and paranoid.

He started harassing and/or questioning some other people on the metro, all women. Two women who were together seemed to engage and then fend him off. Another young single woman did the quick bolt move moving up the car and out the opposite end just as the doors were closing so nobody could follow.

At this point I was wondering what was up with this guy. He only barely glanced in my direction, and I gave him nothing to latch onto. One or two stops after that he bolted out the door, and one more stop after that, a security guy got on the train. Could the bad guy have given the authorities the slip? Or was it a coincidence? I feel someone must have called ahead about his guy, but then again, that would have been a pretty quick reaction.

Unless he had done something really bad to invoke that kind of response. I wonder what that bad guy did?

Now that I think of it, what other bad guys have been on the train with us, and we didn't even know it? Perhaps an evildoer stood in our midst, a serial killer, a child rapist, a bank robber, or an ousted dictator from an obscure country. Who knows who we've been next to?

Reading on the Train

Reading on the train is a sacred activity. Choice of material is of paramount importance. Marc Auge's book "In the Metro", which I read in the metro, is the inspiration for this blog.

What you read on the metro can make all the difference to the ride. It can make it an experience as opposed to something to get through.

Like a good book, you want the metro ride to be an experience, not just a 'ride'. I mean, most days, the everyday ride we must all endure are the norm. That doesn't mean we should give up the fight.

The best books I've read on the metro? Bolano's "The Return" and Gogol's "Dead Souls". I'm sure there are others, but those two are the most recent. They have an appropriateness for the situation other books, for me, don't have.

Running for the Train

I am of two minds about running for the train.

On the one hand I understand if you're running late why you'd want to run.

On the other hand it never takes that long for another train to come along, and I always work enough time into my schedule to be able to miss a train or two.

For a while now I've had a self-imposed rule: never run for the train. I walk, no matter how close I am to the still open doors. As the others look out at me walking briskly I feel their hearts pounding a little faster, see their eyes saying 'hurry up!'

I've been surprised a few times that I even made it. I'm the only one still on the platform, I don't run, I walk up an extra car or two and have a few seconds to spare after I get in.

Only two, maybe three, times have I been 'shut out' with a door slammed in my face. I've never had the experience of actually being caught sandwiched between the two doors fortunately.

But I've also had times when I felt the need to run. It's only natural. The train is leaving, I want on the train, the doors are still open: maybe I can make it!

So I run. I see others run sometimes to comic effect. You'll see a runner with absolutely no hope of making it running on principle. The train is there: therefore I run. No matter that you just walked around the corner and are a full level above the train which has already been there for a few minutes, is fully loaded, and the platform is empty. Run! You might make that last quarter of a kilometre. You might win the lottery too.

Metro Music

To deal with my sense of a lack of personal space on the metro I use music. With my headphones on and some music playing I can 'push back' at the people around me in a way I can not physically do.

The music helps me focus on not being anxious about the presence of so many unknowns around me. I make neither type I nor type II errors as far as I know. Type I is believing there is a threat where there is none. Type II is believing there is no threat when there is one.

I tend more towards type I, which is the least serious of the two errors. In fact, it is more like generalized anxiety about being around people I do not know and do not necessarily care to know.

Sometimes I look at my friends and think: how would he/she appear to me if I saw them on the metro? Occasionally I do see a friend on the metro. They do not always see me. Usually we say hi, but not always. Maybe it is too busy or we are too tired or I don't bother to break them out of their reverie. It is never alarming. For instance, I do not see friends as different people when I see them on the metro.

Other times I look at a stranger on the metro who seems odd to me (not a threat but a weird unknown) and I think maybe that person is just like my friend. Maybe they are not a demented smelly idiot and pathological liar. Maybe in fact that person right there is an intelligent and considerate person I would be proud to call a friend? I mean this seriously because when I get freaked out by strangers on the metro I tell myself they are people just like me.

Jekyll and Hyde

Do you become a different person on the metro? Sometimes I think I do. If others do too, that means that objective observation on the metro is impossible because I'm not seeing others as they really are, only as they are on the metro.

Metro Montreal

My meditations on Montreal's Metro and its Map.

Inspired by Marc Auge's 'In the Metro'