Homegrown Hospitality

For twenty-five years I have been locked in an awkward, junior high-style slow dance with The City of Winnipeg. You know what I am talking about: at least a full arms length away from each other to avoid any true intimacy, awkwardly swaying from side to side, not much rhythm or technique involved yet still going through the motions. The way we all danced when we were scared someone might see us, someone might misinterpret our feelings, or when we were scared our partner may find out we actually cared about them.

Winnipeg has been the longest relationship I've ever had. We've been in fights, we've made great memories, we've fallen in love with one another. But as low as the lowest lows ever were, the highs have always outshone them. The highs being the people, of course.

I'm not just talking about your random acts of kindness: a stranger buying a complete stranger coffee, or another stranger passing on their already paid for parkade ticket to another stranger because there is still three hours left on their meter. I'm talking about the way people treat each other for no other reason than it is the right thing to do.

When thinking about Winnipeg, whether to write about you first or last was a debate I have been having since this whole idea came into being. The one thing I knew for certain was that it would be an overwhelming injustice to not.

Just over five years ago I walked into a Safeway to apply for a second summer job. Little did I know that what started out as a part time, two shift per week, second summer job would eventually become my full time job for four years while I attended university. It is in these five years and in this job that I have met some of the most remarkable people:

There's the ones that ask you how you are, and genuinely mean it, every single day. Even when you're grumpy or rude or having a bad morning they don't let it deter them from coming back the very next day with the same question; and they always remember what you told them.

There's the ones that have been told they can't have children or have endured multiple cancer diagnosis  and/or treatments themselves or a family member, yet they haven't let these horrible, horrible lows jade them from an astonishingly, inspiring positive attitude and an overall zest for life.

There's the ones who'll put everything aside in their lives, drop everything they're doing to come and give you a hand whether it is convenient for them or not.

There's the ones who are students. They uncharacteristically give up hours or full days of their weekends that could be spent studying or hanging out with friends to donate their time to a charity barbecue or pancake breakfast.

There's the ones who will, when they can't even afford to pay their own bills, give the last five dollars of their pay check to a complete stranger because that person can't afford to feed themselves dinner.

And finally, there's the ones who will give up one of the last long weekends of the summer to spend it in Winnipeg saying goodbye to some crazy girl with a crazy dream of travelling North America instead of anything else, anything better they originally may have had planned.

It's not complicated. Technically, none of these ones are super heroes. But in my eyes they are. Sometimes listening to someones story is so much more valuable than any amount of money could ever be.

So thank you Winnipeg, for your kindness, our awkward love hate relationship, and for reassuring me without having to travel far that there are genuinely good people in this world. I cannot wait to see what the rest of this continent has in store. I'm the lucky one for having met, and known these people. And it all happened simply because five years ago I walked into a grocery store looking for a second summer job.