ADDICTS SHOOT UP SAFELY IN THE CITY

VANCOUVER -- It's Clean. It's Beautiful. It Smells Good.

The first legal shooting gallery in North America, in the heart of the most
down-and-out neighbourhood in Canada, has the feeling of a trendy, hip club.

Clean wood floors, brightly coloured paintings on the walls, subdued lighting.
But appearances notwithstanding, the most desperate drug addicts will be coming
here to shoot their veins full of coke and heroin.

Governments have invested about $4 million in the injection site, in
Vancouver's downtown eastside, to allow addicts to shoot up in total safety.
And there's no shortage of them in the area. More than 4,700 hard drug users
are here. Day and night.

In contrast to many Canadian cities, where the biggest users are dispersed in
several neighbourhoods, here everything takes place in one area five streets
long by two streets wide. In this sad environment, the state-run injection site
is like paradise with a clean exterior and windows with blinds.

"The idea here is to supply a safe place for users. We consider them to be sick
people in need of treatment. Not like criminals," says Jeff West, a manager of
the site.

A television monitor shows images from nine cameras placed around the building.
After ringing the door, clients must provide their names (no need to show ID,
most don't have any), sign a form and obtain a number before going to the
waiting room.

Former drug abusers who know the area well welcome the clients. They explain
the rules from Health Canada: Bring your own coke or heroin, we don't provide
drugs. And you have to inject yourself, no one can help you. If a client needs
health care or wants to stop using, he'll be sent to a nearby room or
infirmary, where a social worker or doctor will be waiting.

Clients who just want to shoot up as fast as possible will be called to the
shooting room, where 12 cubicles equipped with mirrors await.

After injecting themselves, the clients go to the "chill out" room, which looks
like a bar or cafe with a big counter and divans. Here, the users can drink
juice or coffee while they wait for the drugs to take effect.

"We want to make sure they're not going to overdose before sending them back in
the street," West says.

THE SCENE IS SURREAL. While a cop displays crack he has just seized, on the
pavement in broad daylight, an addict stops to offer to buy the drugs.

"Five for $40," the passerby says, laughing.

"Scram," replies the cop, David Chow, also chuckling.

That's what it's like here. A circus. A zoo. An incredible concentration of
human misery.

"It's much worse than before," says Eric Doyon, a cop here since 1996 who hails
from Saint-Bruno, Que.

Vancouver is trying to pretty itself up for the 2010 Winter Olympics. Earlier
this year, police decided to clean up by putting a cop on every corner.

"The results were spectacular," says Doyon. "Before, there were 200 people here
on the street ... it was awful. Now it's calmer."

Supporters of the site fear the police presence will scare away potential
users.

"We're not purposely staking out the building. But if we see dealers, we arrest
them," Doyon explains.

Craig Kazuta, another cop on patrol, says it's important to keep an open mind
toward new initiatives aimed at helping addicts: "We hope the project
succeeds," Kazuta says.

WHEN AN ADDICT WANTS his dose, he wants it right away. Not in a half-hour. And
he certainly doesn't want to see a cop.

Everyone interviewed for this article repeated the same thing: The first legal
drug injection site in North America should let clients shoot up quickly and
far from cops. If not, it won't work.

"These folks want to stay anonymous. But the presence of cameras could
intimidate them," says Glen Marshall, a community worker with the Vancouver
school board, whose mission is to convince addicts to return to school.

A study in the Sept. 12 issue of the Journal of the Canadian Medical
Association said the same thing: The site should avoid imposing a long
bureaucratic process on its clients. And the cops should keep their distance.

Researchers surveyed 458 users in the area. More than 92% of them said they'd
consider using the new injection site.

Once told about the Health Canada rules, however, about the wait, the mandatory
registration at the door, and no help with injection, the interest drops to
32%. Support drops to 22% if police are patrolling the joint.

"We're here to help people, not report them to the cops," West says.

IT'S 10 A.M. SITTING ON THE GROUND, near a trash can, Phil and Mary are smoking
crack.

They have red eyes, grey skin, thick voices and slow gestures. But they appear
to be in a good mood: "Hi guys. I can tell you're not from here. Watch what you
say. Watch your backs. Hang on to your bags. And never come at night," says
Mary.

Phil and Mary live in the tough downtown eastside. Of 12,000 residents, 4,700
are addicts. There's cocaine, heroin, dirty needles on the streets, crack
dealers on every corner, prostitutes, mental illness, AIDS, hepatitis C and
tuberculosis.

Phil and Mary say they don't really care about the new safe injection site.

"We'll try it, why not? But I think the cops want to harass us. I don't believe
they're going to leave us alone at a place like that."

They don't believe it will change their lives much.

"I want to stop, but I can't," Phil says. "Heroin is too good. When you get one
taste, you can't take a pass on it again."

Phil, 42, is a father of a 20-year-old woman and has worked as an inspector, in
roof repair and as a ski instructor.

Mary, 33, has abused drugs her whole life, and is uneducated.

They show off their scars, wounds, and dozens of track marks all over their
bodies.

"I'm showing you this and talking to you to tell your readers never touch this.
Never," says Mary, holding a piece of crack in her fingers.