"Watcha gonna do when it's winter?" I asked.  But they were going to bring in more tents, propane and kerosene heaters, and somebody was donating a yurt.  A yurt would be good, presumably, having been developed for the kind of weather that is coming.

"Gotta be careful with those heaters in enclosed spaces," I said, thinking of fumes and forgetting about the whole flammable problem. But the nice young man assured me they were thinking of ventilation.  Thinking of everything.  They were going to stick it out.

Driving into Ottawa I had heard on the news that the city had no plans to evict their Occupiers.  It had seemed like a possibility, given that Vancouver, Toronto and Quebec City were moving to do so.  The instigating matter was a woman found dead in tent, presumably of drug overdose.  Well, deaths by DO is sadly common in Vancouver - do they plan to close down the whole East Side? (Answer:  No - not until the next Olympics.)

Meanwhile, the Ottawa Occupiers were battening down the hatches, or whatever.  I chatted with the guy in the kitchen tent.  

There was a campstove there.  I asked about refrigeration.  No need, he said, look at this butter, still hard.  Indeed, it was an unusually warm afternoon for the time of year, but only about 50, and that only for a few hours; most of the 24-hour period was colder than the inside of a fridge.

I looked at the offerings on the table - cotton-batten bread and peanut butter.  I asked if they were getting donations, and he said oh yes.  In fact, they'd be given some meat last week and it had lasted them three days.

I noticed on Facebook the other day that some locals who make tempeh had visited Occupy and donated some of their product. 

A middle-aged man in middle-aged clothes, tho a bit shabby, was munching away on a peanut-butter sandwich and talking up solar panels. The kitchen guy kept on about a better scene - solar windows you stick right into the wall openings.  Neither of these scenarios seemed relevant to the tent city.  Unless they were dreaming of more permanent structures...

Beside the kitchen were bins labelled in Occupy cardboard and lettering for garbage, recyclables, paper, etc.  Very conscientious.

Lined up on a bench near the kitchen was an assortment of street people with the lopsided alcoholic faces.  Most of them, I regret to say, were Native.  I asked another young Occupier about the street-people problem, which I'd read about with respect to other Occupy sites.  He shrugged it off - whatcha gonna do anyway.  I think it's probably good for the street people to have a regular source of food (and bread plus peanut-butter = protein, I believe, as per vegetarian advice).  This lot was quiet, just sitting there, chatting among themselves.  But it was afternoon - maybe in the evening they got drunk and rowdy.  

I remember someone who had been on one of the old hippie communes, where the rule was anybody comes to the door you let them in.  They got a lot of crazies that way...  And they were out in the boonies, where it was hard to find 'em... And they eventually closed the gates.

Well, whacha gonna do.

Talked to another young man.  Asked a few questions that had come to mind.  Like, was he at loose ends that he could Occupy full-time?  Or had he left a job or university classes?  He said he'd just graduated in sociology.  Okay, that sounds like loose ends.  Also Occupy could be practical experience in his field.  I inquired about students here - do they go to classes during the day?  He didn't quite answer that - we both both distracted by his talking about a sociology prof from one of the local universities, the one just two blocks away in fact, who'd come visiting, together with a bunch of his students.  Field trip!

I asked if it doesn't get kinda stressful or whatever being there all day and night.  He allowed as how he takes the occasional day off and goes home (parents?) for a good sleep in a warm bed.  Gotta recharge now and then.  Sounded like a plan to me.

I said I had noted the row of portapotties at the edge of the encampment. He said a union (he didn't know which one) had provided them.  

How do you wash & stuff, I asked.  Well, a church a block away let them come in during certain hours to access a tap there, for washing and for restocking the kitchen water.  I asked if any churches had got more directly involved, and he replied in the negative.  (However, my friend said her UU congregation were going to visit the following weekend.)

I said I read how people think the Occupiers should have a few goals for the general population to understand their concerns.  He said they had a few and went on about banks a bit (tho our regulated Canadian banks didn't go crazy like the American ones).  I suggested, trying out a thought of mine, that having lots & lots of goals, or a sort of amorphous haze of wanting *change*, was a good thing - it baffled the authorities.  Whereas a few clear goals could be addressed, or at least acknowledged, and then the authorities could wipe their hands and tell the Occupiers to go home now.  He said he hadn't thought of that and would have to meditate on it.  Whereupon he put on his helmet and prepared to pedal away.  "That's your way of mediating?" I asked, to which he responded in the affirmative.

But I talked him into a photo before he disappeared.  This is a public gathering, I told him, and he was at the info table being a spokesperson. I planned to put it on Facebook, where two or three people might note and comment, and on my blog where, on a good day, a grand total of 15, mostly thousands of miles away, might read.

No, that's not a bird sitting on my friend's head

The whole scene was not as lively as when I went there on Day One.  Far fewer people kicking about, though there were a lot of tents.  A news source estimated 50 tents.  The young spokesman said there were about 100 full-time people there.

Pointy tent is the 9/11 conspiracy folk hanging in

A cluster of tents under the tarp

Playground for kids.  Didn't see any kids.  Couple early-teens on skateboards, but I think that paved area and fountain behind constitute a regular skateboard venue.

As my friend and I left, we noted regular people walking thru the park - the walkways were kept clear.  I was going to chase after a businessman type striding along with his briefcase to see what he had to say about it all.  I regret to say I chickened out.  (I think I can pretty safely imagine, tho.)

As we walked away and down the street to the car, the futility of it all came back to me, as on Day One:  this is just a ragtag handful of idealistic (mostly) young people, while all around them the city is carrying on as usual.  I mentioned to the young man that I saw very little in the media. He said oh no, it's being covered - and pointed out a single clipping on their info board.  He didn't feel the Occupy was being ignored.  People came by ones and twos, like us, to chat, and then we'd talk to a few people - six degrees of separation and all that, so the word would spread.

I hope this is the beginning of a sea-change in people's consciousness.  But I dunno... 

I'll go back an visit again on a not-so-nice afternoon. 

Maybe next time I'll catch a glimpse of Sebastian.