I woke up with some hesitation this morning…knowing that I would be encountering never-before-seen territory. I was excited, but nervous; willing to learn, yet ambivalent.

Similar to a regular weekday morning, I hopped on my bus and was glad to find a seat. Soon enough, I had dozed off and didn’t wake up until we reached 41st. Unlike my usual work transit, I bussed all the way down to Harbour Centre, and made the decision to walk to Ovaltine Café since I was early for my meeting. Caffeine is acknowledged as being the quintessential picker-upper, but my walk through the Downtown Eastside this morning replaced any need I had of coffee/earl grey tea. It was a wake-up call for the mind and soul – a realization of not only the difference that a few blocks downtown can make, but also of my world and this world before me.

It was my first time inside an SRO. J, who is very experienced in surveying and getting to know residents of the DTES, lead the way. I was in awe of her eloquence and confidence – it was truly a privilege to learn from this amazing human being. To me, “godsend” barely begins to capture who she is. With kindness and utmost politeness, she would ask the residents of this particular hotel our survey questions – there was always a smile, and the words danced out of mouth. Slowly but surely, she would describe the conditions of the place and their ramifications on residents. As we walked up each level, breathing in varying degrees of what I can only describe as a physical manifestation of depression, we got a glimpse of everyday existence for those who live in the DTES.

It smelled of ammonia, body odour, alcohol, and cigarettes…the washrooms, which were about ¾ the size of an average closet, wreaked of defecation and were imprinted with stains of varying shades of brown. At certain points, I had to hold in my impulse to vomit, and learned simply not to breathe when we looked at the washrooms.

The rooms are painfully small. Some are quite literally large closets, and the only means to cook is by using a portable stovetop burner. For many of these old buildings, bedbugs infest every corner of the establishment. Garbage that is not dealt with, or lingering waste, tend to attract insects and pests. With the building’s foundation worsening by the minute, there is simply no way that such rooms should be rented out for $350 a month. No human being should have to live this way.

I was shocked silent. No matter how much I’ve read about SROs, nothing could replace the actual experience of breathing in the air of such an establishment. This world was altogether unfamiliar...and yet became familiar as soon as I remembered that God was there too. He exists there, and yet I, who bears the comforts of middle-classdom, have forsaken to see Him there. As I gazed upon the words “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind” scratched upon one of the doors, I knew that God makes Himself known in the lowliest of places – and we, as followers of Christ, are beckoned to follow.