The warmth of the Caribbean fills Strathcona's Rise Up Marketplace
Rajesh “Rags” Narine and Roger Collins attribute the shop’s one-love ethos to their cultural roots
THE SUN IS shining in Strathcona. Near Venables and Clark Drive in the former home of Vernon Drive Grocery—one of the city’s oldest neighbourhood stores—is the recently launched Rise Up Marketplace (704 Vernon Drive). There, co-founders Rajesh “Rags” Narine and Roger Collins have swapped everyday convenience-store staples like pop and chips for locally made goods and heaps of heart and soul.
The childhood friends grew up together in Toronto, playing hockey, going to friends’ concerts, and drinking Ting, a soda pop popular in the Caribbean, where both have family roots. They painted the century-old store’s dusty white walls bold red, gold, and green and the ceiling a pale blue, adorning the cozy space with items that feel nostalgic to them, like old wall clocks, a Pac-Man station, lava lamps, and records for a playlist of music they listened to in their youth, sounds of the Caribbean. A TV screen above the door plays nature videos and Saturday-morning cartoons.
Regulars stop in for coffee, people come by with their kids and dogs to pick up freshly baked bread and cookies, staff from the school across the street grab lunch—maybe a flaky, warm, vegan Jamaican patty or a jerk-chicken sandwich. Rise Up hasn’t been open that long, and already it feels neighbourhood-y.
Both Collins (whose parents hail from Saint Vincent and Saint Kitts) and Narine (who is of Guyanese heritage) have spent years in the restaurant and food business. Before opening Calabash Caribbean Bistro on Carrall Street (with its downstairs live-music venue), Collins worked in the sector back east and in the Cayman Islands; Narine, who attended culinary school, worked in the Calabash kitchen, among other places, and learned to bake from Eleanor Chow of Cadeaux Bakery prior to launching Cartems Donuts. When the two caught wind of the Vernon Drive shop becoming available, not far from historic Hogan’s Alley, Vancouver’s first Black neighbourhood, they seized an opportunity to fill a gap with more than just food.
“We really felt like we’re in a day and age where connection is lost, and we wanted to create a space where people of every walk of life could congregate and feel warm and loved,” Narine says. “We both have Caribbean heritage; for us, that’s second nature. Everyone just goes to everyone else’s home and shares meals and makes jokes and plays games, and we wanted to bring that to the space, to take the opportunity to develop everything that means community. That means locally made jams, locally made cookie mix, locally packaged cocoa powder from Guyana, locally made chili oils and sauces… Then we’ve got a whole culture shop, with everything from candles to cleaning supplies to clothing. So whether you’re an artisan or a patron or a human being, this place welcomes you.”
Collins adds that Rise Up’s one-love ethos came into even sharper focus amid the pandemic. “For us, connection is the foundation of how we get back to where we should be—maybe not to how things were, but better. This is a great opportunity for all of us to improve how we’re living, not necessarily monetarily but day to day. Who do we spend time with and where do we put our time? Those things are much more important now than ever before. I think generally people are a lot more appreciative of everything that before might have been taken for granted.
“We each wanted to create a space where we can appreciate things again—simple things, like eating and laughing and hanging out, spending time, seeing someone’s face, sharing a coffee, breaking bread—simple things that bring so much joy,” Collins says. “For so long, people have been looking for external ways of finding joy when we all realize now it’s as simple as connection. For us, we want to provide that space.”
On an afternoon Stir visits Rise Up, Narine is running back and forth to the oven, pulling out plump loaves of fragrant rosemary sourdough that he makes from scratch. In walks Chris Boreland of Elbo Jamaican Patties, making a delivery of golden wild-mushroom, jerk-chicken, and spicy-beef pastries. (The shop also carries The Real Patty Co.) Within a few minutes, a team member from Asha Wheeldon’s Kula Foods, a line of Kenyan-inspired vegan dishes, comes in with a box of BBQ and pili pili sauces (dot a few drops of the latter on meat, fish, eggs, pasta, pizza… Pretty much anything, Collins suggests).
Store shelves are lined with other made-here products, like Mumgry nut butters and Anita’s Organic Mill pancake mix. All of Rise Up’s sandwiches are served on that aromatic sourdough bread, types like jerk chicken, with sweet ’n spicy mango-kale slaw; Sloppy George, which has veggie ground with house-made barbecue sauce; and grilled cheese with Havarti, cheddar, gruyere, and tomato. On Sundays, Rise Up serves jerk chicken wings with freshly made corn bread. There are cookies, coco buns, kombucha, and more.
Collins is wearing a colourful, patterned apron by NaaSheka Fashion, one of the local purveyors whose products are in the culture shop. With hats, head scarves, hoodies, Ts, and makeup bags, the brand was inspired by a journey to Ghana, with a portion of profits going toward the building of libraries in the West African nation; the company’s motto is “fashion, passion & consciousness”. This section of Rise Up also carries Aromabee ointments, Sheka Sheka shea butter, and artworks.
“We’re not your typical convenience store,” Narine says. “We don’t sell Coke or Pepsi, lottery tickets, or cigarettes. What we do sell are things that are made with love. We are really excited to provide a space for anyone to succeed. It’s about making community convenient.”
For more information, see Rise Up Marketplace.