Staying safe

One of the biggest challenges of being a wheelchair user is safety. Something as simple as navigating through a parking lot can be a challenge because if you have to cut through some parking spots, some people can't see you because people are shorter when seated. Same for crossing the streets -- some drivers' instincts are tuned towards people walking, not people rolling.

Similarly, staying safe on public transit is also a challenge for wheelchair users. However, there are some cases I've come across in the TransLink system where safety is not taken into account and could result in serious consequences.

One of the things that happen the most often is bus drivers taking off before passengers in wheelchairs are secured. My most recent incident was last week on the 99 B-Line. I boarded the bus, but the driver was more concerned about his schedule than safety. There was certainly not enough time for me to secure myself before the bus took off; in addition, one of the belts turned out to be broken, leaving me in a precarious situation for my trip. Through the whole trip, the driver was in a mad rush.

Now, I understand drivers needing to stick to a schedule but the potential consequences of an injury or incident due to disregarding safety would dwarf any problems you would have from simply being late. I'm lucky enough to have full hand and arm function but some wheelchair users do not and if they were in my situation, something would have likely happened and the driver would have been in big trouble.

Another common situation I find is on community shuttles. Some shuttle drivers don't use any straps or restraints for wheelchair users, which is apparently a big no-no. I actually did not know this until recently because a) I don't take shuttles often and b) no driver offered restraints or straps. But a few weeks ago when I went to the Vancouver Ability Expo in Yaletown, the shuttle driver took them out and started putting them on.

According to him, shuttle drivers are required to use the straps and restraints. For both trips using shuttles that day, the restraints were used. They take slightly longer than belts and straps on a regular bus but for me, the delay was not by much at all. I wonder how much time was actually "saved" on my previous strapless and restraintless trips.

I don't know if this is a thing going on with the South Surrey shuttles (which my previous trips were on) or if the Vancouver shuttles are more strict about safety. But South Surrey and White Rock shuttle routes are a lot steeper and turbulent, and probably need the restraints more than the Vancouver shuttle routes I've taken.

In a way, I'm surprised more incidents haven't occurred. But I guess if I had an incident happen to me, I'd be hesitant or scared to take transit again. It makes me wonder how many have been scared off conventional transit as a result. So much for integrating people with disabilities into society.

Pay attention to your surroundings

One thing I always try to do on board a bus is pay attention to my surroundings. It something every person should do. Even if you're taking a nap on board, at least make sure you're in a good position to do so or something, and not end up snoring on someone else's shoulder.

There was one person who obviously didn't know how to do that. I was on a bus between Surrey Central Station and South Surrey. It was a New Flyer D40LFR bus. I hate these buses because their newer "hook" restraints are incredibly difficult to use. They're supposed to be an improvement but require a million hands just to get strapped in. Another disadvantage to these buses is how the front seats flip up three seats at a time on one side. That's much more room than I need, and it sucks that others can't at least flip down the seat close to the wheel.

So anyways, I was getting on a bus at Surrey Central Station. I got myself strapped/hooked in and such, and we were ready to go. It was getting dark and the bus was semi-full. One guy, whom I'll call Clueless Guy, decided that he wanted to sit down. He saw that the area in front of me was wide open, and decided to flip down the seat to sit down.

Clueless Guy didn't notice that the seats flipped down all at once. He was in a huge hurry to sit down, for some reason. So he grabbed the seat closest to the front wheel, and flipped it down without even looking around. The seat closest to me slammed right down on my wheelchair and pinched a flap of skin on my thigh -- and I can feel that part. He sat down with all his might, and that flap of skin got sandwiched between my wheelchair cushion and the seat that just slammed down on me. OUCH SON OF A [BLEEP].

I tried to get his attention but he was looking out the window (at what, I don't know, since it was dark). Some other passengers who realized the situation tried to get his attention as well, but Clueless Guy seemed to be ignoring them. Eventually we did get his attention -- only to find out that he didn't speak a word of English (and probably didn't understand the "excuse me?"s and "sir?"s coming from us). He had no idea what he did wrong, until the bus arrived at a stop and the lights turned on.

He got off, and tried to lift the seat. But there was a problem. On these new buses, in order to lift the seat, it must go completely down first. The seat he sat down on went completely down, but the side that was pinching my thigh and trapping my wheelchair didn't. I was stuck.

The driver looked at the situation and then looked at his location. He was kind of in the middle of Surrey with a fairly packed bus. Eventually I freed up my thigh flap, but my wheelchair was still stuck because the seat was pinning down my wheelchair. Since my body was physically freed, the driver decided to call in a supervisor to meet us at Newton Exchange and asked us to make sure people don't sit down on those seats for the time being.

I'm not sure if it was due to the language barrier or what, but Clueless Guy didn't offer much in terms of an apology. He pretty much ignored me until his stop. I don't know, maybe he was embarrassed. I don't blame him for being embarrassed, but he should've really paid attention to what he was doing beforehand. I mean, when you pull down one seat but get three coming down at once, there's got to be a reason for that.

Finally after some huffing and puffing, we did get my wheelchair freed at Newton Exchange. Luckily my chair is a high-end one made of titanium (made by this company), so any scratches can simply be buffed up and it'd look like new again.

Let this be a lesson -- it doesn't matter how tired you are, or how dark it is. Please pay attention to what you're doing and pay attention to your surroundings on board the bus. You never know what can happen if you don't, because unexpected things like these can and do happen.

Also, thank goodness some of the newest TransLink buses have seats that can be flipped up one at a time. It's good for avoiding situations such as this one, and also good when a wheelchair user's friend can sit at eye level to chat.

Mile High Fight Club

SkyTrain cars are probably the most disabled-friendly vehicles in the TransLink system (if you don't factor in rush hour, which makes NOTHING disabled-friendly). They're easy enough to get in, and easy enough to get out, and usually it doesn't take too long to do so.

For the uninitiated (or the unobservant), each SkyTrain has blue accessible stickers at some doors to indicate where accessible seating is located. On the old MK1 trains, this points you to the side-facing flip-up seats. I can wheel in and park there next to the door without obstructing people. On the newer MK2 trains, this points you to side- or rear-facing flip-up seats. These are less obvious and fewer people know about them, and are actually more difficult for me to use as well. (This is why I actually prefer the older trains despite their age and generally gloomy looks.)

One day, I was at Surrey Central Station on an unusually busy off-peak day. I had to wait for the next train because the crowding simply didn't allow me to get on the train. So I moved far away from where the stairs and elevators are, so I can avoid the crush of people coming into the station from the bus loop. This meant that I would get on the front car.

The train arrived. Some people were waiting at the same spot as me, and got ready to enter the MK1 train. The doors opened. And there was a huge mountain bike in the way, with some guy sitting in the accessible flip-up seat, with his earphones blasting away. Nobody could get on because the bike was blocking the entire entrance (not to mention people gave me boarding priority because I am in a wheelchair).

"Excuse me!" I said. No response. "Sir?" No response. I love heavy rock music as much as the next person, but this was a bit much. He wasn't paying attention to anything going on around him.

Faced with the prospect of NOBODY getting on and the doors closing soon, I had no choice but to reach out and move the bike's wheels so we could at least get on. Everyone squeezed on just as the doors closed. He remained in the priority seat, his legs splayed out in a V-shape as if to take up as much floor space as humanly possible.

As the train started moving, I felt a tug on my sweater. "Guy!" the Mountain Bike Guy barked at me. "If there's a bike on the train, you should just get on another one. Now you're just blocking the way."

I thought he was joking. But apparently not. "Well, you're in the accessible seating area. How am I supposed to get out of the way when you're in the spot?"

"I can't just move. I have a bike with me. You're not supposed to get on if I have a bike and need this space."

I was astounded. Ignoring how he seems to be clueless that my mobility is even more restricted than his, I calmly pointed to the sign on the wall. It read, Priority seating for people with disabilities and seniors. "What about that sign, then?"

"It doesn't matter," he insisted. "I'm following the rules. I have a bike, and I'm supposed to be in this space. You need to get off and get on another train." He pointed to some other guys at the other end of the train with bikes. "Those guys over there, they're not following the rules. They're not supposed to bring bikes through that door."

He was right about the other guys; I'll give him that. But at the same time, he claims to "know the rules" when he actually doesn't. According to the official TransLink website on the page about bikes on SkyTrain:

Give priority to wheelchairs, scooters, baby carriages and passengers with service animals such as guide dogs.

I was about to blow a gasket on the Mountain Bike Guy. I was tempted to start cursing him out and such, but from past lessons I know that's not a good idea. Usually, when someone with a disability starts acting out, he/she can easily end up looking like an entitled princess (regardless of whether he/she has the right of way to start with). I was sure if I kept on going, I would've completely lost it anyhow, so I silently endured while imagining the oh-so-many ways to torture him, Guantanamo Bay style.

Another passenger who saw the whole thing caught my eye. His eyes and body gesture read, "What the hell is up with that guy?" I replied with a body gesture reading, "Hell if I know." What I didn't see was another passenger who also saw the whole thing, and wasn't ready to let this slide. I'll call him the Angry Passenger.

As the SkyTrain left Scott Road Station and started crawling towards the SkyBridge, that Angry Passenger spoke. "Hey, you," he said to the mountain bike person. "Take a look at the other guys with the bikes. At least they're standing. They're not taking up a seat. You could at least stand up with your bike and give your seat to him."

Mountain Bike Guy said, "Why should I? I'm supposed to be in this area. I know the rules. This is my seat."

Angry Passenger then got angry. Or angrier, rather. "WRONG," he said. "Look at the sign on the wall. Wheelchair users are entitled to that seat. You're not."

Mountain Bike Guy didn't back down. "But I have a bike with me."

I decided to get in the fray a bit. "Can you read that sign on the wall?" I asked calmly.

"Yeah," Mountain Bike Guy said.

"Then work on your reading comprehension," I replied. "Because obviously you have no idea what it says."

"Shut up," he shot back.

Angry Passenger stood up. "If you're going to talk to him that way, you need to get off the train RIGHT NOW. You're acting so 'tough' hiding behind your sunglasses while telling someone in a wheelchair to shut up and get off the train. We don't need people like you on board."

"You'd better sit your ass back down," Mountain Bike Guy warned as he stood up as well. "I have a can of mace and if you don't sit your ass back down, you're going to be sorry."

Uh oh. The last thing I wanted was an altercation while we're on a train whizzing over the Fraser River. "All right, stop!" I yelled. "You [to Angry Passenger]! Sit down. And you [to Mountain Bike Guy]! Sit down!"

They continued to bark at each other, with some really colorful language (and that's saying something, coming from me, since I'm usually known for my colorful language as well). Some other passengers also chimed in against Mountain Bike Guy.

Mountain Bike Guy's position got weaker and weaker. He accused Angry Passenger of threatening him, to which Angry Passenger replied, "YOU were the one talking about using mace!" Eventually, he realized the battle was lost. He finally said, "I'll get off the train, but next time, y'all better know the damn rules."

After he left, I gave a small thank you to Angry Passenger and explained to him that when I told both of them to back off and sit down, it wasn't because I didn't appreciate his help, but rather I wanted to avoid a fistfight over the Fraser River.

Afterwards, I had mixed feelings about the whole incident. I felt embarrassed and uncomfortable, but also a little proud.

I was embarrassed because it was a confrontation over me. I felt like the kid in the middle of a parental dispute right before a divorce. The confrontation would never have happened if I wasn't there. I guess you can say there's a little bit of guilt in there as well.

I felt uncomfortable because all the other passengers on board had to witness the whole incident. The train's doors were closed as it went over the river; they couldn't escape the situation even if they wanted to. Any time there's some sort of dispute or confrontation, I really hate to see other people being forced to see it.

But at the same time, I felt proud of Angry Passenger. There are so many times on the bus or SkyTrain when there'll be someone who needs one of the priority seats (such as a senior citizen or someone with a disability) and nobody would give up a seat -- and nobody would say anything about it. It's quite rare that someone would actually stand up to someone like that. Angry Passenger basically personifies all the pent-up feelings a lot of people have about this issue.

Whenever I'm on a bus in my wheelchair, I'm obviously in the wheelchair bay. But I stay alert. If someone comes on board who needs the priority seat, I would look at the seats and see who can give up the seat. If that person is unaware of the situation, I'd get that person's attention and a seat would be freed up. Thankfully most people aren't like Mountain Bike Guy and usually oblige.

Oh, and I don't think mace is allowed on SkyTrain.

The wheels on the bus go something something...

It's not often a drunk guy can come on a bus and make everyone happy.

But a while back, I was on a bus between Surrey Central Station and South Surrey. Around Surrey Memorial Hospital, a guy came on board smelling strongly of alcohol and lumbering around disoriented. The driver reluctantly let him on. (What was he going to do? The guy was drunk. Better on a bus than behind the wheel.) Everyone on board prepared for the worst.

Instead, he started singing. What he was singing, I had no clue. But whatever it was, he finished one tune and started another. And then he started encouraging people at the front to start singing. Amused, some people actually did (to my surprise). And then more and more joined in. By the time I got off in South Surrey, the whole bus was singing along to whatever song the guy chose. It was oddly nice to see a "nice drunk guy" instead of a "violent drunk guy" for a change.

At my stop, as I was waiting for the wheelchair ramp to deploy, I said to the driver, "That's got to be a first, right?"

The driver shrugged and said, "Nothing surprises me anymore."

Trafficking in traffic

For anyone who knows anything about Vancouver, one thing is blatantly obvious -- this city loves its marijuana. In fact, when Vancouver native Ross Rebagliati won the first-ever gold medal in snowboarding at the 1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano, he was almost disqualified because there were traces of marijuana in his system. Also, whenever you mention "Vancouver Art Gallery" and "marijuana" in the same sentence, you're sure to come up with some sort of joke.

Anyways, a while ago I was on a bus from White Rock to Surrey. It was one of those long and dreadful rides that seem to last forever. Shortly after entering Surrey, two guys came on board. They looked normal enough -- they paid their fare, they got on and they sat down.

And then one of them sold some marijuana joints to the other guy.

Normally, nobody would bat an eye. But that day, another person noticed and came forward.

"Hey, are you selling weed? How much per hit?"

So a second transaction was made.

But we weren't finished.

Soon, a FOURTH guy came forward and asked for weed. And then a fifth. And a sixth. Eventually, I think almost a third to half of the passengers bought weed from the guy by the time the bus pulled into Surrey Central Station.

Welcome to Vancouver. Come for the scenery, stay for the pot.