Zombie Walk

I participated in my first Zombie Walk this weekend. It was in Medicine Hat, a small city built into the hills and coulees of southeastern Alberta. The downtown is filled with historic brick buildings. And there's a wicked Value Village.

Some people spent a lot of time and thought on their costumes, with latex flesh on their faces and homemade props and costumes. My friend and I, I think we made out well with the ten hurried minutes we spent at VV's. I was looking for one of those structured, off-the-shoulder satin prom dresses from the eighties that seem to crowd the formal dress section of most thrift stores. But, shockingly, there wasn't one to be found! Is it because the eighties are cool again? Anyways I found a nice brimmed hat with flowers and paired it with a long pink lacy number with puffed sleeves. I thought I looked elegant. My friend bought bicycle shorts and a leather vest.

Off to Safeway, where he attempted to buy cow's blood. It wasn't a go, so he bought a steak and tore off a chunk with a nice stringy vein, which he used to suspend the meat from between his teeth. This prompted a discussion of the raw beef restaurant down the street from my apartment in Korea. That place was so delicious.

Finally, and just in time, we made it to Tank Park, where a friendly zombie volunteer splattered me with cornstarch blood. She wiped it all over my chin and let it drip down my lacy decolletage. According to the Medicine Hat News, there were about 150 of us gathered. We took off down the sidewalk at noon. Considering that all were supposedly zombie enthusiasts, I was disappointed with the lack of leg-dragging, stumbling, lolling heads, outstretched arms and diabolic moans. Most people just walked like they were still of the living. I did my best to act repulsive.

Partway through the walk we met up with a biker show-and-shine. There must have been hundreds of motorcycles, because it took about twenty minutes for their parade to pass ours as we travelled in opposite directions. We were well-behaved zombies, obeying traffic signals, leaving civilians unmolested, occasionally pressing up against storefronts and stopped cars (only if the people inside seemed into it).

A few times I've had people ask me why we did the walk. To one woman, as we waited, bloodied, at the bus stop, I replied, "To raise zombie awareness!" Which wasn't meant as flippantly as it sounds. Because a Zombie Walk is a comment on the state of the world, a metaphor of society's herd-like, violent, consumerist tendencies. It's a chance to legally and publicly defy social conventions with like-mined people. But really...it's mostly just for kicks. It sure is fun to dress up.

Uuuuuuuuurrrrggghhhh.