Chez Doris: a refuge for the Inuit street women of Montreal

MONTREAL — Inuit women are dying on the streets of Montreal — and the social agencies who work with native people in the city are becoming increasingly alarmed.

Last year, five Inuit women died in Montreal. One died from liver disease. Another choked on her own vomit in a park while she was drunk. One was struck and killed by a passing car. Two others died of AIDS.

Many more are still caught in a dangerous lifestyle. Addictions and unprotected sex continue to put these urban Inuit women at risk. Too much booze, drugs, too little money and no family support take a toll, making them vulnerable to disease, violent relationships with men, depression, injury and death.

For Inuit women, far away from their families and homes, a drop-in centre called “Chez Doris” tries to provide some shelter from the city’s bleak streets.

Although relatively few Inuit women live in Montreal, 15 per cent of the women at Chez Doris are Inuit — and all of them are in need of help.

During the day, they go there for warmth, food and support. They can eat a filling breakfast and a hot lunch, play bingo, learn how to use computers, or do some arts and crafts. They can work out, watch television, receive new clothes, or even take a bath. Legal advice, counselling and medical treatment are also available.

Long stays in Montreal

Lucy is a regular visitor at Chez Doris. She first came to Montreal from Iqaluit 20 years ago for what was supposed to be a two-week medical visit.

“But I never left,” Lucy said in Inuktitut, the language she still feels most comfortable speaking.

Sitting with Lucy are Judy, Eva, Mary and Maggie. Originally from Iqaluit, Kangiqsualujjuaq, Kuujjuaraapik and Puvirnituq, most of them have been living in Montreal for years, sometimes without even one visit back home.

They’re just a few of the 30 to 40 Inuit women who regularly drop by Chez Doris for its no-questions-asked welcome.

Located at the corner of Ste. Catherine Street and Chomedey, Chez Doris is close to the old Forum, the Montreal Children’s hospital and the Atwater Park, a popular hang-out for Inuit. It’s also near the strip whose nightlife draws many Inuit women away from the North and traumatic pasts, and then holds them, captive, in the city.

Although the entire yearly budget of Chez Doris is only $400,000, and this money must be stretched through donations and volunteer efforts to supply services to all needy clients, it still manages to provide some special help to Inuit women.

The spectre of AIDS

Lina A immaturo who works closely with them at Chez Doris.

Lina, whose part-time salary is paid by Health Canada, does AIDS awareness and prevention work.

“The challenge is getting them to protect themselves,” she said.

According to Lina, the Inuit women know what HIV, the virus that causes AIDS, is and they know how it’s contracted, but they still continue to have multiple sex partners and to not use condoms.

As a result, they’re susceptible to contracting sexually transmitted diseases and deadly infections such as Hepatitis C or the HIV virus.

Lina tries to pass on the message about how to stop HIV transmission during various activities and informal workshops.

At Chez Doris the monthly schedule of activities is written partially in Inuktitut to encourage participation, and there are special activities for Inuit — soapstone carving, sewing and the occasional country foods feast.

Inuit women can also make emergency telephone calls back home to the North.

But Chez Doris can’t foot the bill of flying anyone home for good, or simply for a visit.

“It’s been so hard to watch them go through a hard time and not be able to get them home,” said the executive director of Chez Doris, Maria Trudel-Day.

Forgotten Inuit

She said her staff is increasingly concerned about Inuit women who lead troubled lives — and sometimes die violently — in the South.

And they wonder if these Inuit are forgotten because they’re don’t live in the North.

Chez Doris, in fact, receives no financial assistance from any Inuit organization, although Trudel-Day wishes First Air could supply a couple of return tickets to the North every year.

She’d also appreciate contributions of country foods and would welcome visits from Inuit elders passing through Montreal.

But staff members don’t even have any contact with Inuit apart from those who come to Chez Doris.

“They’re here and they should be recognized,” Trudel-Day said. “I’d like to know, who is watching out for them?”