What's the Term for Claustrophobia Involving People?

I'll admit it, I'm a country girl. Though I was born in Calgary, my developmental years have largely been spent in so-called 'rural' communities. I thought my highschool of 800 students was huge, and my university of 2000 was a little overwhelming (at least at first). And now I'm here in Vancouver, the second largest city in Canada, a place I'd enjoyed visiting but never remotely wanted to live in. Too big, too dirty, too crowded. I've survived this past...year (or very nearly...I can't believe it's almost May again) tolerably well, due in no small part to the fact that Kitsilano is a smallish community, and my area of it is very self-contained. I can do/buy/visit pretty much anything I could ever want in the portion encompassed by a five block radius centered on my apartment. Of course, UBC is a little further than that, as are any decent music stores...but groceries, vast parks and beaches, work, laundromats, game shops and a plethora of restaurants are literally mere blocks away. So Kits feels very much like home to me because the whole 'downtown is only ten square blocks' thing is very Duncan. And Lennoxville would fit very comfortably into Duncan about four times.

But, unfortunately, although I can spend 95% of my time in this little chunk of heaven, and 99% of my time in the slightly larger piece of paradise stretching from Granville and 5th to Granville and Broadway and West to UBC, every so often I must venture further afield. I've got to make the trek to downtown Vancouver (which I generally dislike), and sometimes I even have to head into Burnaby. In order to do this, I must take the skytrain.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the skytrain...at like 9 in the morning or 8 in the evening, when it's practically empty and you can sit and watch the various districts of Vancouver zip by below you. But at any time in between...it's hell. You get on and the place is already packed, reeking of sweat and stale alcohol and halitosis, and there's no where to sit. So you stand, and if you're lucky (like I was today), you find a corner with a wall to put your back to. Every time the train stops, a few people trickle off, but a vast wave floods in. Before you know it, you're wedged between some scruffy guy who hasn't bathed in months and a pack of perfume-scented, loudly twittering teenage girls. Across the way from you a trio of 13-year-old would-be gangstas are swearing loudly, and some creepy, lank-haired degenerate is giving you odd looks and trying to edge closer. You're all packed like the proverbial sardines, desperately trying to maintain your balance as the train sways and jerks along, you're fighting off a headache from the girls' perfume, and you're two stops from home when the doors swing open again to reveal an overweight, sour-faced woman on a motorized scooter. She literally pushes her way into the car, sending the hoodlums into the teen girls and leaving you practically face-to-face with creepy guy, who keeps licking his lips and darting sweaty little glances at you. The overweight woman proceeds to GET OFF her scooter and fiddle around with its back wheels. She is totally blocking the door. When your stop finally arrives, you squirm past creepy guy (who leans towards you, so you HAVE to touch him) and wriggle past the lady, who swears at you as you try to wedge yourself past her scooter. All this with two bags of groceries in your arms.

Oh yeah, that was half an hour ago. And everything happened just like I said. No exaggerations. Granted, there usually isn't a creepy guy looming over you when you ride, but everything else is pretty standard. There's just something about being crammed in with so many people in such a small space that makes me nauseous. I like people just fine...but in small doses thanks.

Heh, and day after tomorrow I leave for Toronto...an even bigger city.