happy canaversary to me!

HAPPY CANAVERSARY!

I moved to Canada on August 24, 2010.  As hard as it is to believe, it is now one year later.  I've officially lived in Canada for an entire 365 days!

I want to say thank you to my adopted home. I am happy to live here.  While I have some things I still don't understand (CFL ? Why do you guys have ketchup flavored chips? How do I learn to keep track of all your political parties?), there are a ton of things that I have learned to love since moving up north (Don Cherry! Grasshopper Wheat Ale! Elk sausage at the farmer's market!). 

Thanks, Canada. 

on the topic of unexpected and small miracles ...

We've had quite a stormy and wet summer here in the north, and the weather has mostly been a mixture of damp, gloomy and frustrating.  However, every now and then something beautiful comes along after a particularly vicious rain storm and blossoms across the sky in a technicolor riot.  I only wish my photographs could somehow do this sight justice.

Below is my collection of Summer Rainbows.  My rainbow count so far has been five in a span of about six weeks.  Maybe Someone Above is trying to tell me something? Here's hoping for more rainbows.

Double Rainbow

Different day, same location

Massive rainbow

Rainbow detail (isn't it beautiful?)

Yet another double rainbow!

I must live in Rainbow Alley -- I have the perfect place to view rainbows from my 20th floor balcony



Last but not least, a rainbow from the Rocky Mountains

Magical hot air balloons, taken from my balcony.  Little miracles like these are what keep me going right now.

america bashing

I was speaking to a (Canadian) professor of mine the other day about stereotypes and nationalities, and she blatantly let me know that most Americans made her "cringe" and that she felt an intense disgust towards them.  There was no specific reason why, just that their 'American-ness' offended her on some deep level. 

 I found this a rather odd admission to make, considering the woman teaches cultural anthropology and is responsible for instructing students from all over the world.  Apparently key anthropological ideas about cultural relativism and trans-nationalism have somehow passed her by. Then again, this is the same professor who has lectured undergraduates on the "stupidity of American culture" in her classroom.  Yes, a little bizarre for a professor who is responsible for teaching about cultural difference.  Then again, it's not terribly shocking.  Her attitude is quite common in Canada, and it's one that has become a central point in Canadian patriotism.

While I am very fond of Canada, I am a little exhausted by the concept of Canadian identity.  I hear time and time again how Canada is an international peace keeper, a welcoming and egalitarian society full of outdoorsy folk with a penchant for poutine and hockey.  Yes, it's mostly true -- Canadians are generally very polite, friendly and great to be around.  I've eaten a lot of  poutine and watched a little bit of hockey since I've moved here.  Canada tends to be socially more liberal, and certainly produces better beer, which seem to go hand in hand.

  Am I playing on popular stereotypes? Yes, and obviously so.  Yet many Canadians seem to readily embrace these very things. There's absolutely nothing wrong with it, and in fact can be quite charming.  I totally love you Canada, really and truly. 

 However -- and this is a major point -- I find that the vast majority of Canadian identity seems to be about exclusion.  That is, Canadians are quick to point out that they are not American.  America is seen as that pesky and bossy neighbor to the south, full of fat rednecks who love their guns and Bibles.  Canadian identity is all about not being like those uncivilized people below their pristine borders.  Canadians have great national health care (unlike Americans), are skinny (unlike Americans), civilized (unlike Americans), well mannered (unlike Americans) and they never, ever eat at McDonald's (unlike Americans). Oh yeah, and Europeans don't hate Canadians (unlike Americans). While the reality of the situation is a lot different -- there are lots of fat people and Bible thumpers in Canada, and yeah, quite a few Europeans living in the USA, including my dad-- it doesn't really seem to matter.  The national discourse surrounding Canadian identity reminds me of the language used by colonial-era English when they dismissed their Irish and Scottish neighbors as the filthy and unwashed masses.

  This attitude is readily apparent in the media.  I find subtly anti-American headlines on the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation's television programming and website all the time.  Articles abound on all sorts of negative American news stories.  Anything positive about the US gets pushed aside, but anything sensational manages to make it to the front page. Headlines are carefully worded to create as much furor and controversy as possible. It's especially apparent on the CBC.ca website, which encourages readers to voice their opinions -- which are almost always rabidly one sided and full of vitriol towards "those arrogant Yanks."  (By the way, has anyone considered that southern Americans tend to loathe being called Yankees? But I digress.)

  In the past week, the CBC has run extensive coverage on 'Carmeggedon' in Los Angeles, otherwise known as the shutting down of the 405 Freeway, a major thoroughfare in the City of Angels.  Various articles have elaborated on the "looming shutdown" of the highway and American fears of "epic traffic jams."  The subtext of the news coverage has been that Americans "can get out" of their "cars once in a while and survive."  (All quoted from CBC news articles from July 15 and 17, 2011).

  Perhaps not the most vitriolic news coverage, but then again, incredibly one-sided and hardly news worthy for most Canadians.  While the piece did not serve as hard cutting coverage, it somehow made the front page. Additionally, it managed to feed into the on-going stereotyping of America in the Canadian press. Americans were depicted in a farcical light, as idiots unable to live without their cars.  Many people who commented on the articles were aghast, wondering why "Americans are such idiots?!"  One commentor fumed over the "greed of the American people and their giant cars." 

  Of course, what the article didn't explain is that public transportation in Los Angeles is underfunded and fairly useless.  LA is one of those cities that you really need to own a car in, because otherwise you're going to spend hours going from point A to point B.  Good luck catching a bus and getting to work on time.  The 405 is an important road and a major transportation corridor for the LA metro area. 

  By leaving out this information, the CBC catered to the image of Americans as fat, lazy slobs who are addicted to their cars.  A sort of patriotic Canadian chest thumping became very apparent from the reactions to the articles, which amounted to 'we are Canadian and we don't rely on cars like Americans!' (Totally untrue, but anyway.)

  During the July 4th weekend, the CBC ran extensive coverage on American stories that were anything but positive.  Most had to do with re-hashing security fears surrounding 9/11.  I couldn't really make the connection between the 9/11 stories and the 4th of July, but apparently the CBC was trying to make one. Additionally, a lot of the news coverage played up on the 'differences' between America and Canada, which seemed to amount to a lot of hype over Canadians burning down the White House way back in 1814.

  I'm not alone in observing this.  It's been noted by one diplomat that "the degree of comfort with which Canadian broadcast entities, including those financed by Canadian tax dollars, twist current events to feed longstanding negative images of the U.S. - and the extent to which the Canadian public seems willing to indulge in the feast - is noteworthy as an indication of the kind of insidious negative popular stereotyping ... in Canada." (Toronto Sun, December 12, 2010).  It's rather sad to me that so much of Canadian identity has become one of exclusion and xenophobic posturing.

  Of course, not all Canadians buy into the hype.   I've met plenty of Canadians who have expressed interest in my American roots. A lot of people have been curious about life in the States.  Many more have been simply disinterested, and not entirely sure where the hell New York City or Washington D.C. are. 

  There are many intelligent people here who are able to realize that there isn't a whole heck of a lot of difference between Canada or the United States, despite what the rest of the world would like to think. After all, Canada and the United States are in bed with each other politically.  We fight the same wars, are part of NATO, and uphold the same capitalistic, corporate mentality.  Admittedly, the USA has a horrible habit of policing the world.  I can't deny that.  But all that policing comes with a heck of a lot of (quiet) Canadian support.  As for the fears about Americanization ... I can understand it, but it doesn't really explain why many Canadians readily accept American stores into their country.  Perhaps it's because both Canadians and Americans seem to like large quantities of low quality and cheap crap.  (Both countries also seem to share a fondness for bad food at inexpensive prices.)

  Despite these similarities, I've also encountered people who've been downright rude and hostile to me once they found out I was American.  During one such encounter, I was on the local train, riding from the university to downtown.  I struck up a conversation with a young man, who started off as polite and friendly. However, once he asked me where I was from, he shuddered and replied, "I am so sorry for you." 

  When I first began teaching here, many of my Canadian students tried to shame me about my nationality.  They would demand that I recite all of the Canadian provinces, and implied that no American could possibly know these things.  They asked me to account for the Americanization of Canada, and why Bush was elected. (Um, since when am I responsible for the Republican Party?)

 Funnily enough, a lot of these same students had family in the Canadian military (which was, until very recently, in Afghanistan) and brought in lunches from Subway and McDonald's.  When I finally turned the tables on them by asking them to name ten states (the same number as the provinces), most of the students couldn't.  We had a big laugh about it and after that the students backed off, but it was a rough start to my first semester in Canada.

  More than anything, I have realized that there isn't that much of a difference between Canadians and Americans.  We all belong to the same continent, and the concept of our respective nations are completely artificial and man made.  Neither country has been around very long, and the populations of both nations are largely made up of immigrants from other parts of the world.  We look the same, tend to sound the same, and generally have the same cultural values, despite what everyone else seems to think.  Heck, Canadians can't even tell I'm American.  If they can't tell a difference, then why is it suddenly a big deal when they realize where I'm from? Nothing magically changes at the border.  I'm not a lesser human being because I have a social security number.

  So, I guess my point is to question why one country feels compelled to define itself by what it is not.  I love Canada dearly, and I happily live here.  I pay my Canadian taxes and follow Canadian laws.  I respect the history of Canada, and enjoy the usually charming Canadian sense of national pride.

   I want to feel welcome in my adopted country.  I came here because I have always liked Canada.  This beautiful country is known for accepting all people, races, religions and nationalities -- except me.  I'm continually reminded that I am not truly at home here, and that a lot of people are willing to dislike me because of where I was born.  Instead of judging me as human being, they judge the color of my passport.  (Passport racism, perhaps?)

  I'm sure this post will offend some people, but I'm standing by it.  I do not deny that similar issues exist for immigrants in America.  The USA has a lot of problems, and I'll be the first to admit that. However, this is a blog about my experiences abroad.  I know that this is an issue for a lot of people, and that I'm not alone in feeling this way.  I just hope that people will learn to not judge someone because of where they happened to be born.

  Oh, and for the record: I'm a dual citizen.  If I suddenly flash my other passport around, does that make me a superior person?

  One love people, because we all belong to the human race.  Nationality is a concept that evolves continually.  Don't trip yourself up on it.

alone

  As I'm writing this, I feel like my heart has been pulled out of my chest. It's as if I can see it, lying on the floor, gasping for air like a fish out of water.  My heart, my soul, my entire being has been crushed. 

  My partner of ten years has left me.  There aren't words that are adequate to express the level of sorrow and loss that I am feeling.  I just know that my entire world has fallen apart.  Everything I own, everyone I know, every memory I have  are all linked to one person.  And now that person is gone, and I am left holding on to the scraps of my entire adult life. 

  I am Alice, and I just fell down the rabbit hole.  My life is upside down.  I think about the days, weeks and months ahead of me, and I can't even breathe.  All of the pain in my life has been, up until this moment, inconsequential. 

  Friends have told me to take it "one day at a time."  But you know what? That is too much.  I can't even fathom hour by hour, let alone day by day.  I am plodding along, watching each minute inch past and hoping that five minutes from now will somehow hurt less than it does right now. 

  I thought soul mates were forever.  I can't fathom not having this man in my life.  Even apart, he is my best friend, my brother, my lover, my dearest and most beloved of all companions in the universe.  I could never talk to him again, and it wouldn't change a thing.  He is truly a part of who I am.

  I know the universe is trying to teach me an important lesson, and I find myself struggling to accept that.  Perhaps I need to learn to accept suffering, or that nothing is permanent.  I don't even know at this point.  But whatever lesson it is, I just have to ask: damn, why does it have to be so painful? 

  

just in time for the 4th of July ...

 
I normally am not a chest thumping, super patriotic sort of person.  Nor do I generally like the writing of Ernest Hemingway.  However, I found (and liked) a poem which combines both of these things.

Happy Independence Day to my fellow Americanos, and a belated happy Canada Day to my Canucks.   I won't get to celebrate 4th of July this year, but I enjoyed the 1st of July thoroughly.  Canadians know how to party!

 I Like Americans

 Ernest Hemingway

(originally credited as 'A Foreigner' and written while he was abroad in Canada ... sort of like me.)

 I like Americans.

They are so unlike Canadians.

They do not take their policemen seriously.

They come to Montreal to drink.

Not to criticize.

They claim they won the war.

But they know at heart that they didn't.

They have such respect for Englishmen.

They like to live abroad.

They do not brag about how they take baths.

But they take them.

Their teeth are so good.

And they wear B.V.D.'s all the year round.

I wish they didn't brag about it.

They have the second best navy in the world.

But they never mention it.

They would like to have Henry Ford for president.

But they will not elect him.

They saw through Bill Bryan.

They have gotten tired of Billy Sunday.

Their men have such funny hair cuts.

They are hard to suck in on Europe.

They have been there once.

They produced Barney Google, Mutt and Jeff.

And Jiggs.

They do not hang lady murderers.

They put them in vaudeville.

They read the Saturday Evening Post

And believe in Santa Claus.

When they make money

They make a lot of money.

They are fine people.

  Happy Holidays to my friends north and south of the border, and love to all. 

untitled

 
There’s a point where you grow up and realize that the things you envisioned as a child will never be, and that the things you never thought true will come to pass.  You get fat, you lose friends, you realize your parents aren't infallible, and, perhaps worst of all, you accept that your plans of becoming a ballerina-archaeologist-Olympic gold medalist are simply not going to come true.  You change.  You accept certain things.  You mourn and move on.


But most of all, you grow apart.


You grow apart from your childhood dreams.  You grow apart from old friends.  You grow apart from an unshakable optimism in the world.  You grow apart from your younger self. 


You become like a snake, shedding your infant skin and leaving it behind on some forlorn and dusty rock.  If you look carefully, you can watch your younger self turn to dust.  It's as if you lose your childhood in layers, piece by painful piece. Years of your life crumble away, falling to the ground in piles of ash.  It's all so quick, so messy, so impossible to imagine when you're six or seven years old. And then one day, you're in your twenties and realize ... where did it all go?


Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.   Layers of self, blown away in an instant.


                                                * * * *


Adulthood is like a dance.  A dance with uncertainty, a duet of utter joy and complete despair.  Beautiful and ugly, a mantle of maturity that is placed upon your shoulders.  Some people wear their adulthood like royalty.  Others wear it like paupers.  Me? I just feel like I'm wearing a wool sweater, itchy and uncomfortable.  Why can't I stay a child forever, laughing in the sunlight and dancing in moonbeams?


I never wanted to grow up.  And yet, here I am, twenty-something years later, awkward in my new found adulthood.  Unwilling and unable to give up that elemental piece of myself, that tiny three year old that exists inside of me and tells me that unicorns exist, love is real and that it is still okay to imagine life as a ballerina-archaeologist-Olympic gold medalist.


I think to myself how sad it is that, at some unspoken point in time, we are no longer allowed to dream.  Why is it that our hopes and aspirations have an expiration date?  Why is it acceptable for a little girl to hug trees, but unacceptable for a grown woman to do the same? 


I wear the mantle of adulthood as best as I can.  However, I look forward to the day when I can cast it off and say to a child of my own to never give in, to never allow anyone to take your dreams from you, and to never, ever stop believing in unicorns.

Rest in Peace, Grammy. Thank you for letting me believe in my dreams.

image courtesy of Nasa

Thanks to a nifty (and new) blogger.com feature, I can now see basic 'stats' about my blog.   I'm incredibly excited to report that, despite this being a blog designed for a few family members and two friends, I've had quite a few international visitors! Thanks to everyone in the United States, Canada, Japan, India, Russia, Germany, Indonesia, Austria, the UK, Netherlands, Belgium and Iran who have read my blog! Wow. I feel so inspired to actually update this thing on a more frequent basis. 

Also, apparently my entry from 2007 on the Miss Universe pageant has gained the most page views (ahhh, why?!). 

The most common phrases that people type in to search engines to find my blog have to do with Mexican candy.  Who knew?

I'm really touched that so many people from around the globe have taken the time to scope out my blog.  Even if they only stayed for a single entry, I appreciate your time and value your feedback! Keep on keepin' on.



i like ... yoshitaka amano

  I haven't done an 'I like ...' post in awhile.  However, there are a lot of things I like, and the Japanese artist Yoshitaka Amano is one of them.  You might recognize his work from the Vampire D novels.

  (And yes, I seem rather obsessed with red, yellow and black right now.)
 

i want to start a hugging revolution in canada

I like to hug.  People, animals, trees, you name it and I'll probably give it a squeeze -- well, as long as it's not poisonous, dangerous or a person who's a complete stranger.  If you've ever met me, we've probably hugged.  I'm a big fan of platonic hugging, and few things in life make me happier.

However, I've come to the realization that Canadians do not hug.  I mean, they do occasionally, but you will be hard pressed to find a Canadian willing to hug someone they aren't dating, sleeping with or related to.  In the eight months since I've been here, I have hugged exactly two people.  One wasn't even born in the country, although I suppose she counts since she's a permanent resident.  The other person was definitely Canadian, although the hug was completely awkward and insincere.  I think I caught the poor girl by surprise. 

 I've mentioned this point to quite a few Canadians.  I can't mention how many times I've asked, "Why don't you guys like to hug? What is the deal?"  People answer me with baffled expressions and a half-hearted reply along the lines of "But we do hug ... sometimes."  (Uh yeah, only if you're romantically involved, related, or drunk.) 

 Apparently I'm not the only person to be confused by the Canuck habit of no touching.  After a final exam, a foreign born student of mine ran up to a Canadian and gave the girl a hug.  The Canadian froze up, looking completely shocked.  She then grimaced, drew in a shuddering breath, and stepped out the hug.  After the non-Canadian ran off, the girl turned to me and muttered, "Canadians don't do that." 

 I have yet to find out why there's an unspoken no hugging rule in Canada.  In fact, body space seems to generally be more of an issue here than in the States.  People stand as far apart as possible, and rarely make any sort of physical contact.  It reminds me of little boys and girls on the playground, afraid of touching each other and getting Cooties.  Maybe adult Canadians are secret carriers of that dreaded childhood disease? Who knows.

 At any rate, I want to start a hugging revolution here.  There's a wonderful YouTube video ('Free Hugs Campaign') in which a young man offers up free hugs to strangers.  The video has had over 65 million hits and spawned a Free Hug Movement.  It's pretty radical, in my opinion.  Not surprisingly, a lot of the Free Hugs videos take place in fairly contact friendly countries, like Spain, Australia and the USA.  Canada does have some, but not nearly as many.  Part of me is tempted to start a Free Hugs campaign up in the frozen north.  The weather might be cold, but I don't think people need to be.

 (Oh, and before anyone jumps on my back and comments how warm and friendly Canadians are ... you're welcome to give me a hug and change my mind!)

Free Hug Campaign

 

my first aurora borealis encounter!

photo courtesy of http://www.geology.com/



  Since I moved up north, I have been dreaming of witnessing the aurora borealis, otherwise known as the northern lights.  I had heard many stories growing up as a child about the beautiful colors that danced in the evening sky.  Unfortunately, having mostly grown up in the southern regions of the United States, I never had any experiences with them firsthand. 

  When I moved up north, I immediately signed up for an e-mail alert service that promised to send out messages when there was a good chance for aurora viewings.  While I did get a few alerts, they were generally on cloudy evenings or at times when it was impossible to get out of the city and away from all the light pollution.  I had a close call on my birthday, when apparently the northern lights were out in full force ... at the exact same time I was underground on the metro. 

  So, you can imagine my excitement when a friend called me out of the blue and offered to take me on an aurora hunting expedition.  The weather was looking promising, with clear skies for the first time in weeks.  It was fairly warm out (by northern Canadian standards) and, even better, I had gotten an aurora alert earlier in the evening that suggested there was a 'strong possibility' of seeing a light show.

  So, at 11:30pm, I jumped in to my friend's car and we took off for a little jaunt out of the city and in to the snow covered prairie. 

  It was about half an hour out of town when we first spotted the signs of auroral activity.  It didn't seem like much at first, just a green blob hovering above the horizon.  But as we watched, the colored shape slowly expanded and began to swirl and arc.  Within minutes, half of the sky was painted over in a vivid teal, pulsating and flickering in the most incredible shapes. 

  We pulled over on the side of the highway, a safe distance from the trucks barrelling alongside us with their cargoes of oil.  I quickly bundled up in to my jacket and jumped out of the car.  For the next fifteen minutes, I stood with my head tilted upwards, craning my neck towards the shimmering sky.  It was absolutely incredible.  The whorls of color reminded me of Van Gough's painting, 'Starry Night.'

 As the show began to fade, we decided to keep driving north in the hopes of catching more of the northern lights.  It was a wise decision, because almost as soon as we started up the car, the auroras began to reappear in patches across the sky.  It was utterly enchanting.

  While we were driving, I noticed a very strange arc that was running across the sky, a grayish-green shape that reminded me of a monotone rainbow.  At first, we assumed it was a contrail from a plane, but as the shape slowly expanded, we realized it was part of the aurora borealis.  It was an eerie sight, like some sort apocalyptic portent. 

  As the show began to get stronger, we decided to pull over again.  A dirt road in the middle of a very dark field seemed like an ideal spot. 

  I jumped out of the car -- and was amazed.  The aurora borealis were directly over our heads!! The rainbow-like shape that I had witnessed from the car was now snaking above our heads, weaving in fantastical shapes.  The streak of light was moving incredibly quickly, billowing around and taking on a distinctly gray color.  It was fantastic, beautiful and frightening all at once.

  While I was looking directly up, I kept noticing strange flashes of color out of the corner of my eye.  I thought my mind was playing tricks on me until my friend told me to look carefully at the sky over my right shoulder.  What I saw was literally unlike anything I'd ever seen in my life. It was like I was at the bottom of a vast pool, with waves of color streaking over the surface of the water.  The light was moving at incredible speeds, sliding across the sky in curtains of bluish-green light.  Astounding.

  It was a truly Canadian moment when a chorus of coyotes began yipping and howling in the stand of trees near the car.  An angry farm dog began barking and growling a territorial warning, and it became a canine howling free-for-all.  There was a tense moment when we heard the soon of twigs breaking in the brush nearby.  My friend started to nervously laugh, and when I asked what was funny, she replied, "Oh, I guess I should have remembered that there are bears around here."  Apparently bear sightings are fairly common in the area.

  The show ended sometime after 1:30am.  The lights began to fade, like they were on a dimmer switch.  They didn't completely fizzle out, but they were slowly losing their intensity.  Since we were tired and cold, we decided to huddle back in to the car and began the trek home.

  I finally got back to my apartment around 3am.  We had a rather fun ten minutes of getting lost near a bunch of oil refineries, which were a rather magnificent sight with their blazing lights.  Unfortunately, the smell was nauseating and I felt like breathing in the air was going to induce an asthma attack.

  Soon as I got home, I rang up the one person I knew would be awake, and signed on to my blog to announce I'd (finally!) seen the beautiful lights. And now, as promised, here is the account of my first experience with the incomparable aurora borealis.

  Aurora Borealis Videos:

Aurora Borealis Explained

Beautiful Aurora Borealis in British Columbia

Aurora Borealis in Norway

aurora borealis

... I finally witnessed the incomporable aurora borealis! It's almost four in the morning, so I am going to wait to write about the amazing light show. Check back tomorrow for a full report. All I can say for now is that my evening consisted of beautiful northern lights, accompanied by the yipping and howling of coyotes. Absolutely amazing.

baby, it's cold outside ...

  It's the first day of spring, but you wouldn't know that from the weather.  The wind is howling, the sky is a mass of dreary clouds, and the temperature is cold.  Every now and then a particularily vicious blast of air rattles my windows.  It is quite discomforting, especially when I consider that back home, it is warm, sunny and a week away from the peak of cherry blossom season.  Needless to say, nothing is growing here yet. The plants have all wisely decided to wait another month or so before poking their heads above ground.

 While the weather here is depressing, there is one up side to it.  There's is absolutely no temptation -- zero, zilch, nada -- to go outside and play. This means that I'm forced to stay inside, stare at my computer screen, and attempt to write papers.  So, while I read my friend's status updates on Facebook about the 'sunny weather,' 'first day of SPRING!' and 'WARM TEMPERATURES!!,' I can console myself with the fact that it's cold, being outdoors sucks right now, and I'm better off holed up in my apartment doing school work (or pretending to).

  Oh, and just so you can see what I mean by the statement that "being outdoors sucks right now," here's pictorial proof. Don't say I didn't warn you.

   

   

photos: life on the canadian prarie

One of the best things about cold days: snowflakes, frozen on to panes of glass

Autumn view of the skyline

Some of the most beautiful sunsets in the world happen on the praries ...

More prarie sunset

... and a beautiful prarie sunrise.

 

photos: icicles

Some photos of icicles I took not too long ago:

a canadian list.

It's the end of the semester, and I just realized ... I haven't updated this blog in months. Oops.

Since there's no way for me to update you all on everything that has happened over the past 3 and 1/2 months, I'm going to write down some of my impressions of Canada so far.  Most are good, a few are bad, and several are indifferent.  But it's all honest and real.  More importantly, each and every experience has added to my evolution as a kinder, more compassionate and aware human being.

Herewith, my list ...

* Sunlight reflecting off snow is beautiful. 
* Rabbits apparently don't hibernate.
* Neither do pigeons or magpies.
* There are coyotes in the River Valley here ... in a city of almost a million people. Nature will always win, no matter what humans think.
* When you have the northern pattern of short days and long nights, you learn to love the sun.  You crave it and miss it like an old friend.
* The human body can't tell the difference between -30C and -40C.  Or, more accurately, my body can't tell the difference.
* Food really is more expensive up north.
* Yes, Canadians do say cute things like "eh" and "aboot."
* Speaking of which ... the east coast is where the steretypical Canadian accent comes from.  The western accent is completely different.
* There were northern lights on the night of my birthday. I took that as a good omen.
* Everyone talks about how Americans love their flag, but let me tell you this -- Canadians looooove maple leaves.  I can't go one block without seeing at least fifty maple leaves plastered on signs, clothing and even food wrappers.  Even the McDonald's here uses the maple leaf inside the golden arches. 
* The media here is just as biased as back in the States.
* Albertans love their pickup trucks.  The bigger and louder, the better.
* The squirrels here are all midgets.  What happened to the normal sized rodents that live back home?
* It's perfectly normal for locals to walk around in -10C weather with no jackets, hats or mittens. 'Cuz, you know, it's warm by northern Canadian standards.
* I love how international the cities are here. 
* Punjabi Radio Hour = my favorite time of day.  The music is amazing.
* Health insurance provided by the government is really useful.  To everyone in the States freaking out over 'Obamacare' ... look to your neighbors up north.
* Don't pronounce 'New Foundland' wrong in front of a classroom full of giggling freshmen. 
* You can buy elk sausage at the local farmer's market.  This fact amazes me.  I have yet to try it, but when I do ... you'll be the first to know.
* Driving in the Canadian Rockies is a frightening experience, unless you like zipping along roads designed by suicidal maniacs.
* On the subject of the Rockies -- go! They are gorgeous. 
* However, avoid the German tourists that will inevitably be there.
* By the way, the Canadians who express disdain for the United States usually have only been to 1 or 2 states, or never been there at all. It's kind of funny.
* The culture really is different.  In general, Canadians are more reserved than Americans.  I've met 1 Canadian so far who actually hugs people. 
* Then again, if you want to watch a normally laid back Canadian get riled up, give him a couple beers and a hockey game to watch.
* Oh, and please don't say 'Canadia.'
* Poutine! French fried greasiness!
* It's 'colour,' not 'color.' Other British-isms that are used in Canada: centre and labour. 
* I honestly still don't understand the metric system.
* If you want to take photos on a cold winter's day, expect your camera to freeze and stop working.  I found this out the hard way.
* When you first arrive here, and tell people you're new ... they'll invite you home for a "nice home cooked meal."
* You can't avoid American TV. I realized this after an entire classroom of students began quoting lines from 'The Big Bang Theory.'
* You can never quite escape the feeling that Canadians hold you personally responsible for George Bush.
* Apparently the entire population of Ireland has moved to Canada.  Or maybe I just have a talent for meeting Irish people. Is it in my genes?
* You are as likely to meet someone from India or China as you are a native Canadian.  Fortunately, this has lead to an array of really good places to get Indian and Chinese food.
* Being an immigrant is really, really hard and people should treat foreigners with kindness.  I came from the USA and I'm going through culture shock ... I can't even imagine what someone from Asia or Africa must go through when they first come here. I was so hurt when I read a news item in the local paper about a young Canadian woman who attacked an African imigrant.  She squirted him with bear spray (used in hunting) and told him to "go back where you came from." I just wonder how she would feel if the tables were turned and she were forced to move to Africa in search of a better life. 

almost midnight at a half empty desk

No one lives the world in general.

-- Clifford Geertz

  I'm sitting at a desk, alone and a little sad in a new country. Home seems far away, a place that doesn't even exist for me now. It has been packed up in to countless cardboard boxes and shipped off to various locations, and now even my loved ones are scattered across the eastern seaboard. My center, my house, my garden, my family -- they're all so far away, distanced and displaced from me. 

  I managed to bring small elements of my previous life with me. Pictures of my parents and boyfriend, a painting of my very loved (but expired) cat, a tiny portion of my book collection, some DVDs and an iPod. There's my eagle feather from Oregon, the necklace my father gave me when I was nineteen, a little blue Hippo on a key chain my mother bought me at the Louvre in Paris. Little and insignificant things that would probably mean very little to anyone else. But to me, they mean the world -- and they are the only tangible things left for me to hold and remind me of where I come from and who I am.

  I knew it was going to be hard. I prepared myself mentally, and I've managed to cope with the changes well. I've moved in to a new place, enrolled in new classes, and am about to be minted as a brand new Teaching Assistant. I've even handled the time zone difference pretty well. At night though, it gets pretty lonely. I miss my dad stomping through the house on his way to the kitchen. I miss my mom telling me to pick up my stuff off the floor. I miss my boyfriend snuggling up next to me. Instead of the people I love, I have a few textbooks and a laptop to stare at. Paper and electronics simply can't compete with the warmth of human contact.

  Over the past few days I've met some interesting people. A lot of them come from places that, geographically and culturally, are impossibly far away. Places like Africa and South America. I watch them, and I see them coping. Perhaps it's just on the surface, but they look content and pleased. Secretly, I wonder if they ever get homesick like I do.  Do they miss their families and pets? Do they they ever just want some home cooked food? Does anyone else wish people could imagine what 'home' is like?

  In many ways, I like it here. People are friendly. The skies are blue. The sun shines a lot. The campus has all sorts of cute critters hopping around, from the over sized rabbits to the cheeky magpies. There's a nice train that runs over the river, and a lot of parks to play in. I could shop until I drop if I wanted to -- or if I had the money to. It's not all bad. In fact, most of it is good. I just miss the familiar. I miss a certain place, a certain time, and specific people. If I could just bundle them up with me, and carry them around with me forever, I'd be happy.

  I arrived on August twenty fourth, and it's only the third of September. I realize that I still need to take some time to adjust. And yes, in that time, I've experienced some magical things, like the Rocky Mountains and seeing an elk for the first time. There will be a time for me to write about those moments, I promise. But for now, I'm just a little bit homesick. I wish I could unpack all the boxes and recreate my home for the next 2 years.

  This whole experience has made me realize how very true the quote "no one lives the world in general" is. Home is not a generalized entity. It's a specific place, a combination of people, emotions, senses and memories. Uprooting and leaving home is never easy. Yet when I look at the people here from Nigeria and El Salvador, and see them managing, it makes me think -- yes, I can. More importantly, yes, I will.

 

   

 

canada bound ...

I have my one way ticket to Canada! I'm flying out on August 24. It's now official ... I am (God willing!) going to be an official resident of Canada in less than a month. I'm packing up my bags and setting off for slighty-foreign soil.

It's interesting, because my father left his native country and moved to the United States when he was my age. And now, here I am, following in his footsteps. Is this the start of a new family tradition?

I won't be posting much on my blog until I get moved in ... and then I'm sure I will have a lot to write. Between battling loneliness, figuring out the metric system and learning to spell like a Canadian ('colour', not 'color'), I'm going to be in for an interesting ride. I'm sure this blog will be the place where everything gets documented in vivid and gory detail.

And yes, I decided to keep up the same blog for my venture north.

More from me soon ...

your opinion needed

In the next few weeks I will be re-designing and playing around with my blog. I would welcome your comments and suggestions on easy to read layouts and designs you feel would be most appropriate for the content found in this blog.

There is a possibility I will be renaming the current blog, or else starting a new one, once I begin my new life in CANADA. (Yes, Canada, eh!) This will happen in the next 5 -6 weeks. So, question: keep the old blog but redesign it/rename it, or start fresh with a new blog?

Let me know.

And, as usual, I have to type ...

it's been a long time, folks.

I returned from my unusually sunny trip to the Emerald Isle. The weather was perfect, seeing my family was lovely, and the scenery wasn't half bad, either. I'd write a more in-depth entry about my trip, but I don't feel like sharing most of it, since it was a personal one and involved a lot of family members and their time.

I don't have much to write, but I will update soon. Probably with pictures. Words aren't coming to me so easily these days. Too much stress and too little time to get anxious in.

Love to all.