Teaching Toronto residents to go with the flow
On a walking tour about a decade ago, we were deep in the Vale of Avoca, the ravine just east of the Yonge and St. Clair intersection. Yellow Creek runs through here, sometimes above ground, sometimes buried. At the southern edge of Mount Pleasant Cemetery, the creek disappears into a gaping, caged concrete tunnel, through which it travels northwest under the graves, Yonge Street, and beyond.
At that spot, photographer Jeremy Kai spoke up and told everyone he had walked more than a kilometre up the tunnel. Dark and wet, his story revealed the massive engineering work hidden under this part of the city. Kai is a “Drainer,” a particular kind of urban explorer that gets into underground drains and buried creeks and documents them in various ways.
I’m glad these people exist because I have no interest in actually going into dirty and sometimes dangerous drains myself, but knowing what’s there is important. Kai published a beautiful book of his photos called “Rivers Forgotten” that shows some of the herculean engineering projects hidden below Toronto. Some, like sewers, keep the city running while others, like burying creeks, were a mistake. All still flow down there and eventually empty into the lake.
Civil engineering is an oftenoverlooked aspect of our cities, perhaps a bit complex for those of us too math-averse to completely understand. To remedy this, Mariko Uda recently published a book called, “Where does it all come from? Where does it all go? Toronto water, energy and waste systems.” A civil engineer, but also an artist, her book is a layperson’s guide to how the city works and is available directly from her website, ecomariko.com.
“I’d been thinking about the book since 2004, when I was finishing up my civil engineering undergrad at University of Toronto,” says Uda. She noticed many people did not know where exactly their water and energy came from or where sewage and waste went.
“Something in me felt strongly that this was basic information we should all know as living human beings. I imagine that a long time ago or in some other places, we knew or know these things, but a disconnection has happened in the big city, and I felt a strong pull to be a part of repairing that.”
Uda’s book is interesting for all ages, but particularly kids as it’s done in a cute, hand-drawn style, almost like a colouring book. It follows a little girl and her cat as they go about everyday life, connecting those actions to the bigger systems they’re part of.
Uda illustrates the journey water takes from Lake Ontario to our taps and also maps where the city’s four treatment plants are as well as the multiple pumping stations and underground reservoirs that keep it flowing. Thinking about them collectively like this, it’s as if Lake Ontario is an octopus, reaching into the city, touching us all.
The journey from drain back to lake is equally important and waste treatment plants are illustrated and mapped along with creek watersheds. Making this kind of direct connection, along with the view into the underground people like Kai give us, are a reminder that things we toss on the ground, like road salt, will eventually make their way to the lake, where the cycle back to our taps begins again.
“When we understand these things, rather than just seeing the tap, toilet, or catch basin, we start to see the lake and rivers they connect to and our impacts on them, and this can contribute to us altering our behaviour,” Uda said. It’s why specifically naming the creeks, rivers and other elements like power plants are important to her, rather than just calling them a generic “river” or “lake.” They aren’t abstract.
“I could have written a general book that applies to all cities, but I chose to make the book Toronto-specific, so people see exactly how they are connected to the environment here and figure out what actions to take,” she says. The girl and cat in her book post signs on toilets, sinks and catch basins naming what creek or treat
ment plant they eventually flow into. Do you know where yours flow?
As the pandemic keeps us close to home for a while longer, perhaps add some of these sites to a “tourism in your own city” itinerary, as hokey and nerdy as that sounds. It’ll be more interesting than you think. For instance, near the Humber Wastewater Treatment Plant, find the path that leads to a berm on its north side, near the Oculus Pavilion along the Humber River trail. There’s a great view over the plant and its ponds. It hums. It smells a bit. You won’t forget it.