So I've been back in Saskatchewan in the same place (quick trips to Saskatoon and Brandon do not count as travel of course) for about 8 weeks now. Christmas was good, I'm very thankful for the gifts I received, but really it was depressing as it brought about all kinds of thoughts and memories of people that are no longer here. However, discounting falsely built-up holidays like Christmas, things have officially gotten to the point where stumbling across a Manneken Pis corkscrew brings about fond memories of Brussels and a longing sensation. Which, to long for Brussels of all places, in case I haven't quite clearly expressed my feelings about that city in previous blogs, is a bit of a warning flag.
Not to mention the fact that this longing for travel, excitement, and international ventures naturally brings up the work and career question, which is still helplessly unresolved and open ended. Which then brings about anxiety about the job search, about different paths and fields, about potential cities and opportunities, and about skills and effort, all mixed in with an excitably anxious yet timid and overwhelmed feeling about what lies ahead. Then this of course makes a full circle back to questioning my present environment. Questioning negative and destructive influences and their effect on myself, questioning stagnant activity and its effect on my skills, prospects and future, and questioning the very people around me, our relationship, and my relationship with the world. Finally, that last bit brings me to this pointlessly destructive spiral of re-hashing all the criticism (both fair and completely and utterly unjustified, harsh, and debilitating) that I've received over the course of the last 8 months. As you can imagine, this all then leads me to unnecessary and unneeded depression and stress, which unfortunately manifests itself physically on my body with incapacitating stomach pains and lack of appetite, bringing about nausea and headaches. Which all sums up to leave me at my present state laying in bed, unable to focus long enough to work on my essay for my most recent job application, effectively restarting the cycle.
I do know however, that I really just need to get my mind of things and re-find my balance. However right now, even the thought of Jasmin's New Years Eve party tomorrow, which I am basically co-hosting, makes me nauseous and want to lock myself up in my room. On a positive note though, my 2 week+ trip to Edmonton and Vancouver is only a week away. I'm really hoping that it will be the escape I need to regain perspective and focus, and in short, get a grip on things. In the meantime then, I'm off to watch another dozen or so episodes of The Big Bang Theory in attempts to lose myself in Sheldon and Leonard's entertainingly facetious affairs.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Understanding the 'other'
It's been about a month and a half back in Saskatchewan, and I again find myself sitting peacefully in the kitchen within a dark house still slumbering, watching the slow sunrise with my Toasted Walnut Christmas tea and laptop. Granted this time I am sitting here a full two hours later; the sun just happens to only make a short appearance in our days this time of the year. But I cannot believe it's already been a month that has passed by. Over a month. While Switzerland feels a lifetime away, it feels like just last week I landed in Winnipeg from Brussels with Vera dropping me at the airport.
Admittedly, the first week or two being back I was hating life; my being sick and stranded at home on the couch did not help matters. But slowly I was reacquainted with not only Canadian lifestyles, but small town Canada, and all the drinking that comes with it. My poor liver. Thank god I'll be leaving again in a month or two, because I don't think my body could handle living here for longer than that. I also terribly miss walking everywhere. It's too bloody cold here to walk any distance longer than the distance to the truck without bundling up like you're preparing for the apocalypse.
During the first month back, notwithstanding the first week or two of course, time just flew by. To the point where it was actually going too quickly for my liking, and I didn't think I'd have enough time in the Prairies if you can believe it. But after living abroad the last year and a half and completing a Masters, and everything that goes with it, being back here feels like a vacation. Seriously. Because abroad, while a glorious experience, its true that sometimes seemingly simple events like going to the bank or paying a deposit can be great ordeals. But here, everything is easy. Soo easy. Opening an account at the local bank is as easy as walking in, "Hey Cindy, I'd like to open an account here," rather than passport photocopies, visa and ID papers, an hour of signing my life away and awaiting many future complications and trials. Not to mention the fact that for the very first time in my life, I'm not working or in school. And I'm staying with my mother which logistically is hassle free. It really is like a vacation. For what is a vacation anyway if not the mental escape from the stress and hassle of your day to day life?
However, unlike a vacation, I feel like my time back here is a karmic test of sorts. A test to see if I can retain all the wonderful life lessons and wisdoms I've learned and acquired and apply them here of all places. You see, because its actually quite easy to have a wonderfully healthy balanced lifestyle when you're travelling and in a different multicultural and enriching environment all the time. You and your lifestyle balanced with that of your city or place becomes the constant factor and source of wellbeing. However, back in a place such as rural SK, where there is very much a set way of life, mindset, and pattern of living, it is a whole different story. To retain even a remote sense of higher balance with ancient wisdom, or deeper meaning of life, or profound sense of self and wellbeing is a challenge to say the least. Particularly in a place that is confused by and mocks difference and individuality. Not to mention progress or change.
Any influence originating outside their immediate frame of reference is perceived as a threat and is discarded. Sometimes the act itself is embraced and not outright dejected, but even labelling something simple as a foreign act or gesture is imposing cultural boundaries between the thing in question and your own way of life. Demarcating the differences between the two and acknowledging that the act is 'foreign' is perceiving it as profoundly and inherently different and an act of 'the other'.
To be fair however, I don't necessarily think this behaviour is in any way different than other small towns around the world. I think its actually quite characteristic of small towns and rural folk to reject outside influence and change. I think the difference here may lie in the cultural presence. In other places, this rejection is seen as a way of preserving and maintaining the traditional culture and way of life. Whereas here, in a place such as rural Canada so famously lacking in a distinct unifying culture, the rejection of change and mocking of difference is itself part of the culture, as much as is the heavy drinking and slow pace of life.
All this being said, the people of rural Sask are also world famously known of their incredible generosity and friendliness. So while they may not like you, and they may reject any notion of attempting to understand your culture, your practices, or your beliefs, they will still welcome you with open arms and invite you over for coffee, dainties, food and drinks, and even find some conversation topic that you both can share, although it will most likely be the weather or gossip.
So with all of this, this karmic test has definitely had its share of triumphs and resounding failures, one of which being healthy balanced lifestyle. (Seriously, you try being healthy when everyone around you does nothing but eat either bland food loaded with chemicals and preservatives or fast food and deep fried bar foods that are mostly composed of meat and carbs, not to mention the constant sitting down and not moving.) But I think one of the greatest triumphs I've had has been in retaining an understanding and appreciation of 'the other' and being able to apply it here. Because as it may sound like I am berating or judging small town folk and the rural Saskatchewan way of life, I have actually (and rather astoundingly I might add, especially for anyone what knows me), developed an appreciation for it. For people are not just the culmination of their positive or negative attributes, but have to be examined and admired rather as a whole of positive and negative features. Indeed, I think its even misjudging to label the attributes positive or negative, for who decides what cultural and individual attributes and perceptions are either 'positive' or 'negative'? I mean, with just a quick glance at the state of the earth and international affairs today, I think its safe to say absolutely no culture or group of people or individual are completely free from flaw. So despite everything, including my lack of means to support myself, lack of all around productivity, and my healthy state going to hell, I think gaining that seemingly little piece of understanding and appreciation towards small towns and Redvers in particular, a place I so fervently resented, has made this little sojourn in my life completely and totally worthwhile.
Admittedly, the first week or two being back I was hating life; my being sick and stranded at home on the couch did not help matters. But slowly I was reacquainted with not only Canadian lifestyles, but small town Canada, and all the drinking that comes with it. My poor liver. Thank god I'll be leaving again in a month or two, because I don't think my body could handle living here for longer than that. I also terribly miss walking everywhere. It's too bloody cold here to walk any distance longer than the distance to the truck without bundling up like you're preparing for the apocalypse.
During the first month back, notwithstanding the first week or two of course, time just flew by. To the point where it was actually going too quickly for my liking, and I didn't think I'd have enough time in the Prairies if you can believe it. But after living abroad the last year and a half and completing a Masters, and everything that goes with it, being back here feels like a vacation. Seriously. Because abroad, while a glorious experience, its true that sometimes seemingly simple events like going to the bank or paying a deposit can be great ordeals. But here, everything is easy. Soo easy. Opening an account at the local bank is as easy as walking in, "Hey Cindy, I'd like to open an account here," rather than passport photocopies, visa and ID papers, an hour of signing my life away and awaiting many future complications and trials. Not to mention the fact that for the very first time in my life, I'm not working or in school. And I'm staying with my mother which logistically is hassle free. It really is like a vacation. For what is a vacation anyway if not the mental escape from the stress and hassle of your day to day life?
However, unlike a vacation, I feel like my time back here is a karmic test of sorts. A test to see if I can retain all the wonderful life lessons and wisdoms I've learned and acquired and apply them here of all places. You see, because its actually quite easy to have a wonderfully healthy balanced lifestyle when you're travelling and in a different multicultural and enriching environment all the time. You and your lifestyle balanced with that of your city or place becomes the constant factor and source of wellbeing. However, back in a place such as rural SK, where there is very much a set way of life, mindset, and pattern of living, it is a whole different story. To retain even a remote sense of higher balance with ancient wisdom, or deeper meaning of life, or profound sense of self and wellbeing is a challenge to say the least. Particularly in a place that is confused by and mocks difference and individuality. Not to mention progress or change.
Any influence originating outside their immediate frame of reference is perceived as a threat and is discarded. Sometimes the act itself is embraced and not outright dejected, but even labelling something simple as a foreign act or gesture is imposing cultural boundaries between the thing in question and your own way of life. Demarcating the differences between the two and acknowledging that the act is 'foreign' is perceiving it as profoundly and inherently different and an act of 'the other'.
To be fair however, I don't necessarily think this behaviour is in any way different than other small towns around the world. I think its actually quite characteristic of small towns and rural folk to reject outside influence and change. I think the difference here may lie in the cultural presence. In other places, this rejection is seen as a way of preserving and maintaining the traditional culture and way of life. Whereas here, in a place such as rural Canada so famously lacking in a distinct unifying culture, the rejection of change and mocking of difference is itself part of the culture, as much as is the heavy drinking and slow pace of life.
All this being said, the people of rural Sask are also world famously known of their incredible generosity and friendliness. So while they may not like you, and they may reject any notion of attempting to understand your culture, your practices, or your beliefs, they will still welcome you with open arms and invite you over for coffee, dainties, food and drinks, and even find some conversation topic that you both can share, although it will most likely be the weather or gossip.
So with all of this, this karmic test has definitely had its share of triumphs and resounding failures, one of which being healthy balanced lifestyle. (Seriously, you try being healthy when everyone around you does nothing but eat either bland food loaded with chemicals and preservatives or fast food and deep fried bar foods that are mostly composed of meat and carbs, not to mention the constant sitting down and not moving.) But I think one of the greatest triumphs I've had has been in retaining an understanding and appreciation of 'the other' and being able to apply it here. Because as it may sound like I am berating or judging small town folk and the rural Saskatchewan way of life, I have actually (and rather astoundingly I might add, especially for anyone what knows me), developed an appreciation for it. For people are not just the culmination of their positive or negative attributes, but have to be examined and admired rather as a whole of positive and negative features. Indeed, I think its even misjudging to label the attributes positive or negative, for who decides what cultural and individual attributes and perceptions are either 'positive' or 'negative'? I mean, with just a quick glance at the state of the earth and international affairs today, I think its safe to say absolutely no culture or group of people or individual are completely free from flaw. So despite everything, including my lack of means to support myself, lack of all around productivity, and my healthy state going to hell, I think gaining that seemingly little piece of understanding and appreciation towards small towns and Redvers in particular, a place I so fervently resented, has made this little sojourn in my life completely and totally worthwhile.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Tranquility in the middle of nowhere
I'm going to attempt to write an insightful and intelligible entry here, despite being sick and on powerful cold medication to combat said illness. I admittedly may need to revise it in a few days before posting it. So, apologies if my writing isn't up to its usual standards.
One thing I now realise that I dearly missed in the last few months are my peaceful mornings. There is nothing quite like that wonderful 7:30am morning light streaming in through the windows, a still and quiet house being illuminated and woken slowly by the rising sun, and a nicely caffeinated large mug of tea by my laptop as I read various headlines, analyse the latest breakthroughs in my field, and catch up on correspondance and writing. Although this morning, I admit I would much rather not be sitting next to a large box of kleenex and cup of cleansing tea for my sinuses and throat.
However, I also notice that there is something distinctly different, special about the mornings here in rural small town Saskatchewan than in the many other places I have lived in the last 2 years. For one, the extremely flat topography lends a certain unique quality about the sun, letting it stream practically horizontally in to windows and across the seemingly endless landscape, casting shadows and light to the white and dark high contrast backdrop that is present here for most of the year, creating unparalleled scenery, effects, and sense of surroundings. There is also an incomparable sense of stillness and tranquility one finds in the rural Canadian Prairies where the population density is a meagre 1.67 people per square kilometer that is difficult if not impossible to find elsewhere, even in a small town in the Swiss Alps. As a result, just sitting here at the kitchen table looking out the window almost has that meditative quality I cherished so much about hiking and walking in the Swiss Alps. Of course, at present moment this could partly be due to the cold medication.
I've been back in Redvers almost three full days now and I'm going on the third day of my cold. This parallel is no coincidence as I'm positive that it is my body manifesting a physical protest of going from the 15C to 20C brisk fall weather of Switzerland and Belgium to the -10C to 0C frigid dry cold, snow and wind of the Prairies. Not to mention the intense sleep deprivation and time upheaval. At any rate, with the medication hereand the fabulous English meds I have, as well as the inordinate amount of free time I have here, the cold is manageable. The only problem really is that my inability to drink at the moment is severely hindering my integration in to the social life here that is almost completely and totally centered on drinking. Not that they're all alcoholics mind you, it's just, well, its different here. But this is a topic for my next entry I believe.
Back to the topic at hand though. This intense sense of isolation and tranquility tends to understandably have an effect not only the air of mornings here, but on the very character of life and people. Just as when you are embracing the meditative nature of a hike, and time feels like it is ceasing to exists as you feel at one with nature and your surroundings, time has a very different conception here. Life is not centered around time as it is in many other places, but as you have an overwhelming sense of a vast abundance of time, both in hours, days, and of a lifetime itself, time does not seem to play an important role in structuring your day. Your day rather seems to flow naturally from one event to the other. Rather than a schedule and events planned accordingly, people characteristically tend to only have a sense of what they would like to accomplish in one day, leaving the flow of life to fill in the blanks.
Some people call it a "go with the flow" mentality. Here however, it seems to be a way of life. As you run in to people you know at every turn, be they friends, family, or acquaintances, and as everyone is incredibly friendly, due to the isolation and tranquility, small town nature, and Canadian nature itself, and finally, as everyone drives and has a sense (again due to the isolation) that a 5 hour drive is perfectly acceptable afternoon activity, anything is possible.
Indeed, brunch at the only restaurant in town may turn in to a country drive, which then turns in to visiting friends in another town, which then turns in to drinks with these friends, which then turns in to some crazy adventure stemming from a 'brilliant' idea. Or like just the other day, a friend coming over to visit in the early afternoon, turns in to a drive, which turns in to picking up another friend, which turns in to driving to the nearby town to get beer, which turns in to running in to friends that are drinking there, which turns in to many drinks with them, which ultimately turns in to a 'tour'. But again, this last example will be further analysed and discussed in my next blog.
The main point is that while I have always possessed this 'go with the flow mentality', and share it with a few non-Prairie friends such as Vera, here it is the norm. This makes it so that despite the obvious lack of viable entertainment and activities here, with an adventurous spirit and a bit of creativity, anything can happen.
But I have to end this entry here, on a somewhat ambiguous note, as the house has officially stirred and woken up, and my cold meds aren't letting me concentrate. This is of course the downside of the often deafening silence and calmness of the Prairies: Once you get used to this atmosphere and embrace it, as I do in the mornings, almost anything can seem like a disturbance. Particularly when everyone's blackberries start going off...
One thing I now realise that I dearly missed in the last few months are my peaceful mornings. There is nothing quite like that wonderful 7:30am morning light streaming in through the windows, a still and quiet house being illuminated and woken slowly by the rising sun, and a nicely caffeinated large mug of tea by my laptop as I read various headlines, analyse the latest breakthroughs in my field, and catch up on correspondance and writing. Although this morning, I admit I would much rather not be sitting next to a large box of kleenex and cup of cleansing tea for my sinuses and throat.
However, I also notice that there is something distinctly different, special about the mornings here in rural small town Saskatchewan than in the many other places I have lived in the last 2 years. For one, the extremely flat topography lends a certain unique quality about the sun, letting it stream practically horizontally in to windows and across the seemingly endless landscape, casting shadows and light to the white and dark high contrast backdrop that is present here for most of the year, creating unparalleled scenery, effects, and sense of surroundings. There is also an incomparable sense of stillness and tranquility one finds in the rural Canadian Prairies where the population density is a meagre 1.67 people per square kilometer that is difficult if not impossible to find elsewhere, even in a small town in the Swiss Alps. As a result, just sitting here at the kitchen table looking out the window almost has that meditative quality I cherished so much about hiking and walking in the Swiss Alps. Of course, at present moment this could partly be due to the cold medication.
I've been back in Redvers almost three full days now and I'm going on the third day of my cold. This parallel is no coincidence as I'm positive that it is my body manifesting a physical protest of going from the 15C to 20C brisk fall weather of Switzerland and Belgium to the -10C to 0C frigid dry cold, snow and wind of the Prairies. Not to mention the intense sleep deprivation and time upheaval. At any rate, with the medication hereand the fabulous English meds I have, as well as the inordinate amount of free time I have here, the cold is manageable. The only problem really is that my inability to drink at the moment is severely hindering my integration in to the social life here that is almost completely and totally centered on drinking. Not that they're all alcoholics mind you, it's just, well, its different here. But this is a topic for my next entry I believe.
Back to the topic at hand though. This intense sense of isolation and tranquility tends to understandably have an effect not only the air of mornings here, but on the very character of life and people. Just as when you are embracing the meditative nature of a hike, and time feels like it is ceasing to exists as you feel at one with nature and your surroundings, time has a very different conception here. Life is not centered around time as it is in many other places, but as you have an overwhelming sense of a vast abundance of time, both in hours, days, and of a lifetime itself, time does not seem to play an important role in structuring your day. Your day rather seems to flow naturally from one event to the other. Rather than a schedule and events planned accordingly, people characteristically tend to only have a sense of what they would like to accomplish in one day, leaving the flow of life to fill in the blanks.
Some people call it a "go with the flow" mentality. Here however, it seems to be a way of life. As you run in to people you know at every turn, be they friends, family, or acquaintances, and as everyone is incredibly friendly, due to the isolation and tranquility, small town nature, and Canadian nature itself, and finally, as everyone drives and has a sense (again due to the isolation) that a 5 hour drive is perfectly acceptable afternoon activity, anything is possible.
Indeed, brunch at the only restaurant in town may turn in to a country drive, which then turns in to visiting friends in another town, which then turns in to drinks with these friends, which then turns in to some crazy adventure stemming from a 'brilliant' idea. Or like just the other day, a friend coming over to visit in the early afternoon, turns in to a drive, which turns in to picking up another friend, which turns in to driving to the nearby town to get beer, which turns in to running in to friends that are drinking there, which turns in to many drinks with them, which ultimately turns in to a 'tour'. But again, this last example will be further analysed and discussed in my next blog.
The main point is that while I have always possessed this 'go with the flow mentality', and share it with a few non-Prairie friends such as Vera, here it is the norm. This makes it so that despite the obvious lack of viable entertainment and activities here, with an adventurous spirit and a bit of creativity, anything can happen.
But I have to end this entry here, on a somewhat ambiguous note, as the house has officially stirred and woken up, and my cold meds aren't letting me concentrate. This is of course the downside of the often deafening silence and calmness of the Prairies: Once you get used to this atmosphere and embrace it, as I do in the mornings, almost anything can seem like a disturbance. Particularly when everyone's blackberries start going off...
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Part 2 of Voyage au Canada
As I write this next entry, my head still feels hazy from the travel and my surroundings are a little ridiculous, but I have time to kill. But I feel that this just exemplifies the disaccord I'm about to try to explain. It's currently 7:47am, or maybe 6:47am, I'm not sure.. But either way, I've been up for close to 3 hours now, because as predicted, it felt like 11am my time, which is the latest I can ever manage to sleep in. So I'm running on 4 hours of sleep again. Or maybe 3, I'm not sure.. But with a 26 hour day between my last bit of 4 hour sleep. I think my body may start revolting soon. Either way, I digress (probably due to the lack of sleep). I'm currently sitting on the floor in a corner of a Holiday Inn room in Winnipeg. Of course, since it's very early, my brother Kyler, his girlfriend, and Jasmin who picked me up at the airport last night are all still sleeping. Since the sun also doesn't come up for another couple hours, and they are all fast asleep, its pitch black in the room, and the only source of light is my laptop screen and backlit keyboard emanating like a mysterious glow from the floor of the corner of the room. I even got dressed and did my hair/make-up to kill time, and went down to the front lobby to get the password for the wifi.
I feel like I'm viewing everything from an outsiders perspective. However, as I am technically an insider, that I'm privy to viewing the inside and core of the culture, but again from an outside point of view. Everything from the taste of the tap water, to the thickness of the air in the extremely well insulated and thick walled rooms, to the sheer amount of space and abysmal amount of people feel odd to me. I almost feel like I'm viewing Canada and Canadian culture for the first time. The accent sounds strange, the clothes and style, the speaking patterns, and the ridiculous friendliness, all seem foreign to me. I mean, my last flight from Toronto to Winnipeg had landed and we were waiting to disembark, the woman sitting next to me just starts talking to me about the BC and Montréal football game. Talking about the stats, the score, the strategies, the current team standings, the upcoming playoffs, etc. etc. I was beyond exhausted at this point, and don't care about football even on a good day, but she was so damned friendly that I had no choice but to give in and politely but distantly engage in the conversation.
Landing in Toronto was hard. Not only were the customs people pricks, thinking I was lying about my "story" (seriously though, why on earth would I make up doing a Masters Degree in International Conflict and Security?! If I was going to lie I'd pick something more plausible and recognized than that!), but of course the luggage was extremely late and the queues long. So it ended up taking me a good 2 hours to get through customs, pick up my luggage, make my way to the check in counter, drop things off, and proceed to my next gate. Once I was passed customs however, the staff were of course, beyond friendly. But friendly in a strange way. I mean strange probably in the sense that a foreigner does. To me they seemed almost unprofessional. Female security staff sitting on the counter in the bathroom texting, men standing in a circle jeering, staff walking down the halls in animated cell discussions, security scanning personel and luggage personel cracking jokes and jests left and right. Staff that seemed to be paid to stand there coming up to me to 'explain' to me where to go, when a) I had not asked them, b) knew where to go, and c) they gave me false directions for what I needed, as I had already asked someone. Yes, that first 'someone' was actually one of the few staff that seemed, well, for lack of a better word, 'normal' to me. She was very clearly not North American, I would guess German actually. And was an extremely professional, direct, polite, and curt kind of helpful.
When I finally got to a café next to my gate, everything was disconcerting. The way the staff (who looked and seemed to act like she was 15) took my order. The way the food looked. The fact that it tasted like deep fryer to me. Not deep fried food, chicken as it happened to be, but just deep fryer grease. The texture and taste, or lack thereof of the vegetables. Even Starbucks off all places didn't feel like it used to. The fact that they gave me two cups for me tea struck me. In Europe that practice is so unsustainable, I don't think I've ever seen it. However, the fact that I could give a slightly complex and customized order with absolutely no problems or confusion on their part was very nice.
I think one of the most noticeable disconcerting and 'foreign' things for me, was the space itself. It felt.. expansive, capitalist, and uncultured. First of all, because there was just so much of it. Even the spaces between the chairs at the gate waiting lounges was at least triple what it was in Amsterdam. The width of the hallways was at least double. Everything so open. And that was just inside the airport! I have yet to really be outdoors yet. But I feel like as open as it was, I felt the pressure of advertisements and 'sales' everywhere. It felt like things weren't there for your convenience, it was there for the convenience and pocket book of the owner. Europe tends to be the opposite extreme, where the 'convienice' tends to be lacking. But this was too much. Just things and advertisements selling more things absolute everywhere. And speaking of 'things' everywhere, I never noticed the sheer volume of Washrooms here! I mean, it's like their afraid people will piss themselves if they can't wait for the next one. Lastly, I don't mean 'uncultured' in an uncouth barbaric sort of way.. But, you can feel the youth of the place. The lack of history. In Europe history and culture basically beat you over the head they're so pervasive. After living in that practically culturally oppressive atmosphere for a while, here it feels just like a void of culture. I don't know how to explain it more than that.. Culture is obviously made up of many things, so it's hard to pinpoint certain things that give off this vibe.
Again, none of these observations are meant to be negative, or bad. Like I said, I just feel like I'm seeing them for the first time. That I'm landing with new eyes. Seeing things as a foreigner would. The differences are just striking. Désagréable parfois, it's true, but simply because I miss Europe terribly and here it all just feels so different. Even small innocuous and mundane things like background music also practically shouts of difference to me. It feels too young, the music that is. It feels like its catering to the youth specifically. And not simply the youth, but a capitalist, corporate American youth. But that's a whole other discussion I believe.
In all, the last half or third of my flight to Toronto sitting next to a Nigerian man that kept talking to me about my kindle while I was trying to read on it, the 6 hour waiting time in Toronto, and the 2h30 flight to Winnipeg all felt longer than the last. It felt like time just kept slowing down only to stand still about 1.5 hours before the flight to Winnipeg was scheduled to take off. I was so happy to finally get out of that last flight, pick up my luggage, and leave, just to be out of airports. But not relieved, not quite yet. As technically I am still travelling as we only made it to the Hotel that night, and I still have the 400km trip to Redvers to make. But thankfully for this leg of the journey, I have my brother who just picks up my 25+ kilo duffle bag and slings it over his shoulder like it was my handbag.
I feel like I'm viewing everything from an outsiders perspective. However, as I am technically an insider, that I'm privy to viewing the inside and core of the culture, but again from an outside point of view. Everything from the taste of the tap water, to the thickness of the air in the extremely well insulated and thick walled rooms, to the sheer amount of space and abysmal amount of people feel odd to me. I almost feel like I'm viewing Canada and Canadian culture for the first time. The accent sounds strange, the clothes and style, the speaking patterns, and the ridiculous friendliness, all seem foreign to me. I mean, my last flight from Toronto to Winnipeg had landed and we were waiting to disembark, the woman sitting next to me just starts talking to me about the BC and Montréal football game. Talking about the stats, the score, the strategies, the current team standings, the upcoming playoffs, etc. etc. I was beyond exhausted at this point, and don't care about football even on a good day, but she was so damned friendly that I had no choice but to give in and politely but distantly engage in the conversation.
Landing in Toronto was hard. Not only were the customs people pricks, thinking I was lying about my "story" (seriously though, why on earth would I make up doing a Masters Degree in International Conflict and Security?! If I was going to lie I'd pick something more plausible and recognized than that!), but of course the luggage was extremely late and the queues long. So it ended up taking me a good 2 hours to get through customs, pick up my luggage, make my way to the check in counter, drop things off, and proceed to my next gate. Once I was passed customs however, the staff were of course, beyond friendly. But friendly in a strange way. I mean strange probably in the sense that a foreigner does. To me they seemed almost unprofessional. Female security staff sitting on the counter in the bathroom texting, men standing in a circle jeering, staff walking down the halls in animated cell discussions, security scanning personel and luggage personel cracking jokes and jests left and right. Staff that seemed to be paid to stand there coming up to me to 'explain' to me where to go, when a) I had not asked them, b) knew where to go, and c) they gave me false directions for what I needed, as I had already asked someone. Yes, that first 'someone' was actually one of the few staff that seemed, well, for lack of a better word, 'normal' to me. She was very clearly not North American, I would guess German actually. And was an extremely professional, direct, polite, and curt kind of helpful.
When I finally got to a café next to my gate, everything was disconcerting. The way the staff (who looked and seemed to act like she was 15) took my order. The way the food looked. The fact that it tasted like deep fryer to me. Not deep fried food, chicken as it happened to be, but just deep fryer grease. The texture and taste, or lack thereof of the vegetables. Even Starbucks off all places didn't feel like it used to. The fact that they gave me two cups for me tea struck me. In Europe that practice is so unsustainable, I don't think I've ever seen it. However, the fact that I could give a slightly complex and customized order with absolutely no problems or confusion on their part was very nice.
I think one of the most noticeable disconcerting and 'foreign' things for me, was the space itself. It felt.. expansive, capitalist, and uncultured. First of all, because there was just so much of it. Even the spaces between the chairs at the gate waiting lounges was at least triple what it was in Amsterdam. The width of the hallways was at least double. Everything so open. And that was just inside the airport! I have yet to really be outdoors yet. But I feel like as open as it was, I felt the pressure of advertisements and 'sales' everywhere. It felt like things weren't there for your convenience, it was there for the convenience and pocket book of the owner. Europe tends to be the opposite extreme, where the 'convienice' tends to be lacking. But this was too much. Just things and advertisements selling more things absolute everywhere. And speaking of 'things' everywhere, I never noticed the sheer volume of Washrooms here! I mean, it's like their afraid people will piss themselves if they can't wait for the next one. Lastly, I don't mean 'uncultured' in an uncouth barbaric sort of way.. But, you can feel the youth of the place. The lack of history. In Europe history and culture basically beat you over the head they're so pervasive. After living in that practically culturally oppressive atmosphere for a while, here it feels just like a void of culture. I don't know how to explain it more than that.. Culture is obviously made up of many things, so it's hard to pinpoint certain things that give off this vibe.
Again, none of these observations are meant to be negative, or bad. Like I said, I just feel like I'm seeing them for the first time. That I'm landing with new eyes. Seeing things as a foreigner would. The differences are just striking. Désagréable parfois, it's true, but simply because I miss Europe terribly and here it all just feels so different. Even small innocuous and mundane things like background music also practically shouts of difference to me. It feels too young, the music that is. It feels like its catering to the youth specifically. And not simply the youth, but a capitalist, corporate American youth. But that's a whole other discussion I believe.
In all, the last half or third of my flight to Toronto sitting next to a Nigerian man that kept talking to me about my kindle while I was trying to read on it, the 6 hour waiting time in Toronto, and the 2h30 flight to Winnipeg all felt longer than the last. It felt like time just kept slowing down only to stand still about 1.5 hours before the flight to Winnipeg was scheduled to take off. I was so happy to finally get out of that last flight, pick up my luggage, and leave, just to be out of airports. But not relieved, not quite yet. As technically I am still travelling as we only made it to the Hotel that night, and I still have the 400km trip to Redvers to make. But thankfully for this leg of the journey, I have my brother who just picks up my 25+ kilo duffle bag and slings it over his shoulder like it was my handbag.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Part 1 of Voyage au Canada
As I start writing this entry, I’m sitting in the secure waiting area of Amsterdam Schipol Airport, enjoying my slightly melancholic departure from Europe while waiting to board my flight to Toronto. This entry is also partly dedicated to Vera, for reasons that will become clear, but also, to provide her with the “full detailed report” of my travel to analyse how long her ‘Vera magic’ and ‘Vera luck’ lasted, and if it indeed “knows no borders”.
So far, this has been one of the most delightful, smooth, completely stress-free departures mornings back to Canada I’ve ever had. Again, I’m mostly crediting all of this to Vera and her amazing luck. For those of you who don’t know, Vera has the most amazing timing and luck of anyone I’ve ever met. She claims it mostly happens when she’s with me, but I’m not sure if I believe her. She can leave for her flight no more than an hour before it departs, but always makes it. She can leave for a train 15 minutes before it leaves, but still makes it. She can procrastinate buying movie tickets until the point that they are sold out, and the movie starts in an hour, only to have someone walk up to her offering her tickets. These are of course, but a fragment of the examples. So this morning, like the wonderful friend that she is, Vera left her place 20 after 7 in the morning to arrive at my place for 8 to accompany me to the airport and help me with luggage, that ended up weighing about 75 kilos. Yes, that’s right, KILOS.
But before I get to that, everything went smoothly catching the bus to the airport, despite it being late, and taking an eternity to get there. Even the two Arabic men that caught the bus with us, asking us random questions about directions, bus times, etc. the entire way, made the journey more interesting. At one point, as Vera and I were speaking English and laughing about something random, at this point it was probably about the Wikipedia entry of Annessens, in French one of the men says to the other man that we are probably making fun of them. I guess he had forgotten that we had been speaking in French to them not more than 30 minutes earlier. And as Vera and I love to feign innocence and ignorance with languages, we played along, looking straight at them, and laughing to ourselves. In the end as we were getting off the bus, the one cracked some joke about my giant heavy duffle bag that Vera was struggling to get out of the luggage rack, asking Vera if she had her mother packed away in there. Lol. He also asked where we were going, I said Canada. He says, “Oh, that’s why your English is so good!”. I don’t understand this, and its not the first time someone has said that to me. Does my English, when I’m speaking to a European, take on a neutral accent? I mean, you would never hear someone going up to an American saying, “Oh you have such good English!”. If they do complement them on language is usually congratulating them for speaking something other than English.
So after arrived at the airport, leisurely with 1h30 until my flight departed, we unloaded my third bag, each heavier than the last of course, from the luggage locker, with the 50 cents we were missing from the nice latino behind us, and we proceeded to drop off my bags. I was very worried that, due to the number and weight of my bags, I would be paying 200, 300, or 400 euro to check them. So as soon as we got to the check in, I stuck up a very friendly conversation with the middle aged woman working this desk, complaining good natured about the difficulty of packing up ones life in to two suitcases. After this, we started chatting, her asking why on earth I was ‘moving’ to the Prairies. Then exclaiming, when she learned I was in fact going to Saskatchewan not Winnipeg, that her friend’s boyfriend is living in Saskatchewan! She said he is a physiotherapist named Serge with a beard. Lol. Sadly, I almost guarantee that someone I know, knows Serge. I told her this last bit as she was weighing my immense bags totally up to 75 kilos. Miraculously, she not only solely charged me 75 euro (the price of one excess baggage, completely dropping all the overweigh charges that would have totalled to an additional 150), not only waved the fee I would have had of RE-checking my bags in Toronto, but let Vera and I climb up behind her desk to transfer 4 kilos from my smaller bag to the larger ones to avoid having to check it and pay an additional 200 euro.
So Vera with her Mary Poppins skills, managed to fit 4 kilos worth of stuff in to my already swollen incredibly overweight bags. Vera and I said our goodbyes, I went through Security, and still made it to my gate precisely as people started queuing up to board. I even had time to stop along the way to grab a late breakfast of a croissant and orange juice, where the man waved the 85 cents of the 5,85 euro it came to, as I only had a 5 euro bill. Standing in line I met this very nice funny middle aged Swedish man, Oly, who I think was taken by me, as he tried convincing the Flight Attendant to change his seat to sit next to me, unsuccessfully of course.
The final sequence of my incredibly quite enjoyable departure and Vera luck of a morning was having my flight to Amsterdam land a full 25 minutes early, giving me the exact amount of time needed to leisurely make my way past Passport control to my gate at the other end of the Airport. Funnily enough, as my flight was so short, I landed in Amsterdam the same time that Vera arrived home from the airport. I think that says something about either KLM or Brussels Transit.
So I’m going to save this and continue later, as my flight is about to start taxiing now. But as part of our experiment in how far Vera’s influence will stretch, I will write again during my 6 hour layover in Toronto. I swear to god, if travelling with Vera means all travel is this easy and stress-free, I’m dragging her with me everywhere.
PS. Boarding the flight I’ve already started to see many farmer jeans paired with sneakers, crocs, and hoodies. I’m a little nervous already.
So far, this has been one of the most delightful, smooth, completely stress-free departures mornings back to Canada I’ve ever had. Again, I’m mostly crediting all of this to Vera and her amazing luck. For those of you who don’t know, Vera has the most amazing timing and luck of anyone I’ve ever met. She claims it mostly happens when she’s with me, but I’m not sure if I believe her. She can leave for her flight no more than an hour before it departs, but always makes it. She can leave for a train 15 minutes before it leaves, but still makes it. She can procrastinate buying movie tickets until the point that they are sold out, and the movie starts in an hour, only to have someone walk up to her offering her tickets. These are of course, but a fragment of the examples. So this morning, like the wonderful friend that she is, Vera left her place 20 after 7 in the morning to arrive at my place for 8 to accompany me to the airport and help me with luggage, that ended up weighing about 75 kilos. Yes, that’s right, KILOS.
But before I get to that, everything went smoothly catching the bus to the airport, despite it being late, and taking an eternity to get there. Even the two Arabic men that caught the bus with us, asking us random questions about directions, bus times, etc. the entire way, made the journey more interesting. At one point, as Vera and I were speaking English and laughing about something random, at this point it was probably about the Wikipedia entry of Annessens, in French one of the men says to the other man that we are probably making fun of them. I guess he had forgotten that we had been speaking in French to them not more than 30 minutes earlier. And as Vera and I love to feign innocence and ignorance with languages, we played along, looking straight at them, and laughing to ourselves. In the end as we were getting off the bus, the one cracked some joke about my giant heavy duffle bag that Vera was struggling to get out of the luggage rack, asking Vera if she had her mother packed away in there. Lol. He also asked where we were going, I said Canada. He says, “Oh, that’s why your English is so good!”. I don’t understand this, and its not the first time someone has said that to me. Does my English, when I’m speaking to a European, take on a neutral accent? I mean, you would never hear someone going up to an American saying, “Oh you have such good English!”. If they do complement them on language is usually congratulating them for speaking something other than English.
So after arrived at the airport, leisurely with 1h30 until my flight departed, we unloaded my third bag, each heavier than the last of course, from the luggage locker, with the 50 cents we were missing from the nice latino behind us, and we proceeded to drop off my bags. I was very worried that, due to the number and weight of my bags, I would be paying 200, 300, or 400 euro to check them. So as soon as we got to the check in, I stuck up a very friendly conversation with the middle aged woman working this desk, complaining good natured about the difficulty of packing up ones life in to two suitcases. After this, we started chatting, her asking why on earth I was ‘moving’ to the Prairies. Then exclaiming, when she learned I was in fact going to Saskatchewan not Winnipeg, that her friend’s boyfriend is living in Saskatchewan! She said he is a physiotherapist named Serge with a beard. Lol. Sadly, I almost guarantee that someone I know, knows Serge. I told her this last bit as she was weighing my immense bags totally up to 75 kilos. Miraculously, she not only solely charged me 75 euro (the price of one excess baggage, completely dropping all the overweigh charges that would have totalled to an additional 150), not only waved the fee I would have had of RE-checking my bags in Toronto, but let Vera and I climb up behind her desk to transfer 4 kilos from my smaller bag to the larger ones to avoid having to check it and pay an additional 200 euro.
So Vera with her Mary Poppins skills, managed to fit 4 kilos worth of stuff in to my already swollen incredibly overweight bags. Vera and I said our goodbyes, I went through Security, and still made it to my gate precisely as people started queuing up to board. I even had time to stop along the way to grab a late breakfast of a croissant and orange juice, where the man waved the 85 cents of the 5,85 euro it came to, as I only had a 5 euro bill. Standing in line I met this very nice funny middle aged Swedish man, Oly, who I think was taken by me, as he tried convincing the Flight Attendant to change his seat to sit next to me, unsuccessfully of course.
The final sequence of my incredibly quite enjoyable departure and Vera luck of a morning was having my flight to Amsterdam land a full 25 minutes early, giving me the exact amount of time needed to leisurely make my way past Passport control to my gate at the other end of the Airport. Funnily enough, as my flight was so short, I landed in Amsterdam the same time that Vera arrived home from the airport. I think that says something about either KLM or Brussels Transit.
So I’m going to save this and continue later, as my flight is about to start taxiing now. But as part of our experiment in how far Vera’s influence will stretch, I will write again during my 6 hour layover in Toronto. I swear to god, if travelling with Vera means all travel is this easy and stress-free, I’m dragging her with me everywhere.
PS. Boarding the flight I’ve already started to see many farmer jeans paired with sneakers, crocs, and hoodies. I’m a little nervous already.
UP NEXT....
Toronto and first impressions
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Occupy Wall Street: Learn from history or be doomed to repeat its mistakes
In recent week, critics of the Occupy Wall Street movement mockingly dismissed protestors for lacking any real understanding of the workings of Wall Street. They dismissed the protestors as insignificant and hypocritical by opposing capitalism on the one hand, and yet flying to the protest sites and using ATMs.
However, since then, protests have grown to over 1000 cities in 82 countries across the globe. In an extremely short period of time, the Occupy Wall Street movement has elevated issues of corporate greed and economic inequity to the very top of the global debate. As a result, criticism from the top 1% of income earners has shifted from mocking condescension to accusations of “class warfare” and an ‘apparent’ lack of clear demands.
What this disproportionately small upper class ‘apparently’ fail to understand is that first of all, a movement of this size has to be taken seriously. Secondly, a concrete list of demands is not what they should be looking for. Rather, the movement should be seen as a red flag of mass discontent and unrest, with focus placed on understanding the nature of the movement itself and its root causes. As with the current international economic woes, the masses are not looking for bailouts and band-aid fixes. They want the causes of the economic and financial distress to be addressed, and in many cases, simply a better more stable future for their families.
There are many claims dismissing the protests as having ‘spontaneously’ manifested in cities all over the world. However, the bottom line is that people do not do anything ‘spontaneously’. In most, if not all cases, there are always motives to every action, whether they are underlying, subconscious, or explicit. Particularly when protests involve millions of people protesting in solidarity, explicitly outlining their sources of unrest all over posters, banners, chants, twitter, Facebook, Youtube, blogs, interviews, etc: They are unhappy with the current system that is built on maintaining and expanding economic inequality and injustice. Thanks to current social media and communication technology, it takes no more than a few seconds on Google to figure this out.
It also takes only a few clicks of the cursor to access the CIA’s own global economic ranking, to see that the United States, the primary focus in the global Occupy Wall Street movement, is actually more economically unequal than its Egyptian and Tunisian counterparts! So why are the top ‘1%’ ignoring and indeed mocking these blatant cries of unrest? Because as the slogans say, the injustice and inequality is built in to the system, and clearly the top 1% who have profited the most from this injustice have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo.
However, even the most complex of systems can change.
In fact, they have changed many times in the past, and will continue to change in the future. The main problem today, is that the nature of the unjust economic system in question is more pervasive than it has ever been throughout history. Previous protests that questioned, revolted against, and overturned unjust and unequal systems had a distinct advantage in that the subject of their focus was contained geographically and maintained power through specific relations, strategies, and symbols.
In the French Revolution for example, the public and lower classes revolted out of hunger. While the upper class and royalty were bathing in jewels, feasting, and throwing large elaborate parties flaunting their wealth, they could not feed their families. Sound familiar? The political, economic, and class systems at the time were designed to maintain status quo where the rich lived lavishly with untouchable and unquestionable wealth and status. Again, the only difference that comes to mind is that their system was held in place through birth rights and the idea of a divine plan for all, whereas today it is held in place through the myth of the capitalist American Dream.
So regular everyday people protested en masse in the streets proclaiming their unrest and their demand for change. They too, did not have the power to change the situation or system themselves, nor a list of specific demands, but rather a wealth of grievances that made the cause of their discontent blatantly obvious.
The main distinction between the two uprisings, is that the French Revolution challenged a monarchic system held in place by religion and divine right, whereas the Occupy Wall Street movement is focused on a complex economic system that engulfs every aspect of modern life. While religion in the day did touch on almost every aspect of life, it was removable by destroying the symbolism that held it in power; in this case arresting and killing the royal family.
Today however, particularly in the Western world, the system in question is so deeply entrenched that it lies at the core of both the global economy and our daily lives. It is ubiquitous, pervasive and omnipresent. There is no way around it, and worse yet, there is no particular symbol to destroy, person to arrest, or institution to overtake. Refusing en masse to take part in the system is an alternative. However, it is not only near impossible, but it would decapacitate the already broken lives of the lower and middle classes, leave the wealthy untouched, and more than likely, catalyse another global recession that would again, hurt those who are most vulnerable and have done the least to cause the problem in the first place.
The only non-violent recourse the masses seem to have left, is to exercise their Constitutional right to assemble and protest. Protest for a just system that ensures the fair and equitable redistribution of wealth and resources. Hoping that if their numbers are large enough, and they resist long enough, that perhaps the wealthy and powerful elites will be moved enough to listen and make changes.
This is the one distinct advantage that today’s masses seem to have relative to the masses of the French Revolution. In the late 18th century, where human rights and good governance were foreign concepts, violent and bloody revolt was the only option for catalyzing fundamental change. But it was a means that ultimately led to the dark and bloody years of the guillotine and several wars. However, today, as we saw in North Africa, thanks to remarkable progress in human rights and technology that infiltrates every aspect of our lives, without recourse to violence, we are able to instantly and globally communicate, proliferate, articulate, and demonstrate the ideas, grievances, and strategies that underlie a movement and coalesce global solidarity in a matter of mere weeks.
The masses today may not be wielding torches, blowing up buildings or arresting prominent figures in order to topple the regime, however, they are just as serious and outright impossible to ignore. The non-violent nature of their actions and demands should not be mocked. Quite to the contrary, if appropriate attention is paid, this could be seized as an opportunity to demonstrate that as a society we have learned from past mistakes and are capable of progress, evolution, and fundamental reform without the need for a world war or bloody revolution. That is, if the right people are willing to listen.
What this disproportionately small upper class ‘apparently’ fail to understand is that first of all, a movement of this size has to be taken seriously. Secondly, a concrete list of demands is not what they should be looking for. Rather, the movement should be seen as a red flag of mass discontent and unrest, with focus placed on understanding the nature of the movement itself and its root causes. As with the current international economic woes, the masses are not looking for bailouts and band-aid fixes. They want the causes of the economic and financial distress to be addressed, and in many cases, simply a better more stable future for their families.
There are many claims dismissing the protests as having ‘spontaneously’ manifested in cities all over the world. However, the bottom line is that people do not do anything ‘spontaneously’. In most, if not all cases, there are always motives to every action, whether they are underlying, subconscious, or explicit. Particularly when protests involve millions of people protesting in solidarity, explicitly outlining their sources of unrest all over posters, banners, chants, twitter, Facebook, Youtube, blogs, interviews, etc: They are unhappy with the current system that is built on maintaining and expanding economic inequality and injustice. Thanks to current social media and communication technology, it takes no more than a few seconds on Google to figure this out.
It also takes only a few clicks of the cursor to access the CIA’s own global economic ranking, to see that the United States, the primary focus in the global Occupy Wall Street movement, is actually more economically unequal than its Egyptian and Tunisian counterparts! So why are the top ‘1%’ ignoring and indeed mocking these blatant cries of unrest? Because as the slogans say, the injustice and inequality is built in to the system, and clearly the top 1% who have profited the most from this injustice have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo.
However, even the most complex of systems can change.
In fact, they have changed many times in the past, and will continue to change in the future. The main problem today, is that the nature of the unjust economic system in question is more pervasive than it has ever been throughout history. Previous protests that questioned, revolted against, and overturned unjust and unequal systems had a distinct advantage in that the subject of their focus was contained geographically and maintained power through specific relations, strategies, and symbols.
In the French Revolution for example, the public and lower classes revolted out of hunger. While the upper class and royalty were bathing in jewels, feasting, and throwing large elaborate parties flaunting their wealth, they could not feed their families. Sound familiar? The political, economic, and class systems at the time were designed to maintain status quo where the rich lived lavishly with untouchable and unquestionable wealth and status. Again, the only difference that comes to mind is that their system was held in place through birth rights and the idea of a divine plan for all, whereas today it is held in place through the myth of the capitalist American Dream.
So regular everyday people protested en masse in the streets proclaiming their unrest and their demand for change. They too, did not have the power to change the situation or system themselves, nor a list of specific demands, but rather a wealth of grievances that made the cause of their discontent blatantly obvious.
The main distinction between the two uprisings, is that the French Revolution challenged a monarchic system held in place by religion and divine right, whereas the Occupy Wall Street movement is focused on a complex economic system that engulfs every aspect of modern life. While religion in the day did touch on almost every aspect of life, it was removable by destroying the symbolism that held it in power; in this case arresting and killing the royal family.
Today however, particularly in the Western world, the system in question is so deeply entrenched that it lies at the core of both the global economy and our daily lives. It is ubiquitous, pervasive and omnipresent. There is no way around it, and worse yet, there is no particular symbol to destroy, person to arrest, or institution to overtake. Refusing en masse to take part in the system is an alternative. However, it is not only near impossible, but it would decapacitate the already broken lives of the lower and middle classes, leave the wealthy untouched, and more than likely, catalyse another global recession that would again, hurt those who are most vulnerable and have done the least to cause the problem in the first place.
The only non-violent recourse the masses seem to have left, is to exercise their Constitutional right to assemble and protest. Protest for a just system that ensures the fair and equitable redistribution of wealth and resources. Hoping that if their numbers are large enough, and they resist long enough, that perhaps the wealthy and powerful elites will be moved enough to listen and make changes.
This is the one distinct advantage that today’s masses seem to have relative to the masses of the French Revolution. In the late 18th century, where human rights and good governance were foreign concepts, violent and bloody revolt was the only option for catalyzing fundamental change. But it was a means that ultimately led to the dark and bloody years of the guillotine and several wars. However, today, as we saw in North Africa, thanks to remarkable progress in human rights and technology that infiltrates every aspect of our lives, without recourse to violence, we are able to instantly and globally communicate, proliferate, articulate, and demonstrate the ideas, grievances, and strategies that underlie a movement and coalesce global solidarity in a matter of mere weeks.
The masses today may not be wielding torches, blowing up buildings or arresting prominent figures in order to topple the regime, however, they are just as serious and outright impossible to ignore. The non-violent nature of their actions and demands should not be mocked. Quite to the contrary, if appropriate attention is paid, this could be seized as an opportunity to demonstrate that as a society we have learned from past mistakes and are capable of progress, evolution, and fundamental reform without the need for a world war or bloody revolution. That is, if the right people are willing to listen.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Life changing experience? Go live in the Alps.
As I write this, I'm currently sitting at a café up in Verbier, after a short and sweet hour and a half hike up (after which the interns decided they wanted to hitchhike up the rest of the way), listening to what feels like the longest electric keyboard solo in music history, while trying to think of a topic for an op-ed piece I'm to write. The op-ed piece is to be a writing sample for a few jobs I'm applying for, and is a meagre 500-700 words. The only problem with this, is its for a Berlin based think tank focused on a strategic trans-atlantic foreign policy debate. That is to say, the potential topics of this op-ed piece, are anything relevant to North American and European international relations, i.e., almost every international relations topic. With broad categories like development and aid, wars and conflicts, climate change, to name a few, how to choose a topic? So rather than staring out the window, gazing at the always mystical looking alpine cloud cover that seems to engulf the mountains and enclose you in a foggy globe, I figured I would be productive and try to job the creative writing juices by writing a much needed blog entry.
But where to start for this entry? What to talk about? What to cover? I wrote an entry or two about Thailand, but I think its been a while since I've really talked about my life in general. However, the problem with that, is I don't know where to start. I feel like in the last 5-6 months that I've been here in the Swiss Alps working with Johannah has had such a profound impact on my life. I feel like so much has happened, and so much as changed in this time; from activities, to events, to conversations, to dialectic debates, to work, to quality, to ideas, to perceptions, to worldview, to values, to habits, to simply life in general. I almost feel like the isolated and slower pace of life here, combined with the type of people and work, allows for so much more to happen. Even banal features of life, such as walking the dogs, can be profound, forget about the experiences that are profound within themselves. So where to start?
I mean, in the last 5-6 months as far as education and work alone go, I have written and submitted my Masters Thesis, effectively finished my Masters Degree in International Conflict and Security, worked full time at the Bernstein Environmental Policy Consulting Group being mentored by Johannah working on designing United Nations Environmental Security Training Courses for Foreign Policy Diplomats, supporting the facilitation and creation of Green Diplomacy conferences for the Thai Foreign Ministry in Thailand, coordinating a staff retreat for the United Nations Environment Program, on top of all of the actual policy, researching, editing, and creative design work. Especially after writing that out, I feel that alone is enough to profoundly change a person, forget about everything else. But that's the thing, it didn't stop there..
Other things I can think of, off the top of my head include glacier treks with a Hawaiien mountain guide on a heritage site glacier, many magnificent, breathtaking, almost meditative hikes with various people on various mountains and sites, crazy adventures that ensue on these hikes and living in the mountains, the sheer volume of highly interesting, exciting, successful, worldly people I've met and ultimately hiked with, crazy international small mountain town nights out, and the amazing amount of profound, intellectual, world-altering conversations, discussion and arguments that have ensued everywhere from the dinner table, to the couch, to the café, to on a trail a 2600m.
And to top it all off, I haven't even mentioned negative things, stresses, cosmic lessons, and personal battles I've gone through during this time, such as the most recent one of my uncle/big brother getting killed in a car accident just a week an a half ago. As much as I feel like this list could go on at least as long as the other two, but I prefer to focus on the positive, so I will leave the negative unmentioned. But suffice to say, they are all learning and personal growth opportunities, so they have contributed as much if not more to my personal development I'm sure.
So you see my problem? How do you write something insightful and meaningful, but not dry or tedious, that captures all of the above, but still takes in to account where I am right now and what my inspirations, aspirations, and plans are for the future? This will have to do I suppose... But do you see why I couldn't exactly even attempt to discuss it au fur et à mesure? There was just too much going on and changing too quickly. Even now, it's like trying to capture a symphony in a photograph; you're giving the public a window in, but not letting them hear the music, feel the atmosphere, or be moved by the experience.
But to finish off this masterfully accomplished procrastination, I'll attempt to describe in a short(ish) paragraph what's taken me months to figure out: my future plans. While I still just want to live in Barcelona learning Spanish and drinking Sangria, or live in the Belgian or German Christmas markets sipping vin chaud/gluhwein all day, I've narrowed down some more concrete plans (that sadly involve much less Sangria and gluhwein). After spending a week or so in November in Brussels visiting Vera and Chavdar, and maybe, just maybe getting to go to a day of the Christmas Market, I'm heading back to Saskatchewan until January. That's right. Spending well over a month back in my home town (and at least a week or so in Saskatoon). I believe that will be the longest amount of time I've ever spent there consecutively since I first moved to the city. But considering everything that has happened back there the last few weeks, I feel its important to properly visit and catch up with everyone. Following that, in January, I come back to Europe. Where to? Excellent question. Potentially Berlin for the job I mentioned at the beginning. Failing that, for another internship or job I find.. Doing a few internships, jobs, and/or volunteer opportunities until I find something I love. Hopefully something with travel, that brings me to yet another corner of the globe. Potentially field work. We'll see what the cards hold.
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After the first paragraph the extended electric solos became a tad intolerable and I wrote to the new Uh Huh Her album Nocturnes. I highly recommend checking it out: http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/nocturnes/id472327889
But where to start for this entry? What to talk about? What to cover? I wrote an entry or two about Thailand, but I think its been a while since I've really talked about my life in general. However, the problem with that, is I don't know where to start. I feel like in the last 5-6 months that I've been here in the Swiss Alps working with Johannah has had such a profound impact on my life. I feel like so much has happened, and so much as changed in this time; from activities, to events, to conversations, to dialectic debates, to work, to quality, to ideas, to perceptions, to worldview, to values, to habits, to simply life in general. I almost feel like the isolated and slower pace of life here, combined with the type of people and work, allows for so much more to happen. Even banal features of life, such as walking the dogs, can be profound, forget about the experiences that are profound within themselves. So where to start?
I mean, in the last 5-6 months as far as education and work alone go, I have written and submitted my Masters Thesis, effectively finished my Masters Degree in International Conflict and Security, worked full time at the Bernstein Environmental Policy Consulting Group being mentored by Johannah working on designing United Nations Environmental Security Training Courses for Foreign Policy Diplomats, supporting the facilitation and creation of Green Diplomacy conferences for the Thai Foreign Ministry in Thailand, coordinating a staff retreat for the United Nations Environment Program, on top of all of the actual policy, researching, editing, and creative design work. Especially after writing that out, I feel that alone is enough to profoundly change a person, forget about everything else. But that's the thing, it didn't stop there..
Other things I can think of, off the top of my head include glacier treks with a Hawaiien mountain guide on a heritage site glacier, many magnificent, breathtaking, almost meditative hikes with various people on various mountains and sites, crazy adventures that ensue on these hikes and living in the mountains, the sheer volume of highly interesting, exciting, successful, worldly people I've met and ultimately hiked with, crazy international small mountain town nights out, and the amazing amount of profound, intellectual, world-altering conversations, discussion and arguments that have ensued everywhere from the dinner table, to the couch, to the café, to on a trail a 2600m.
And to top it all off, I haven't even mentioned negative things, stresses, cosmic lessons, and personal battles I've gone through during this time, such as the most recent one of my uncle/big brother getting killed in a car accident just a week an a half ago. As much as I feel like this list could go on at least as long as the other two, but I prefer to focus on the positive, so I will leave the negative unmentioned. But suffice to say, they are all learning and personal growth opportunities, so they have contributed as much if not more to my personal development I'm sure.
So you see my problem? How do you write something insightful and meaningful, but not dry or tedious, that captures all of the above, but still takes in to account where I am right now and what my inspirations, aspirations, and plans are for the future? This will have to do I suppose... But do you see why I couldn't exactly even attempt to discuss it au fur et à mesure? There was just too much going on and changing too quickly. Even now, it's like trying to capture a symphony in a photograph; you're giving the public a window in, but not letting them hear the music, feel the atmosphere, or be moved by the experience.
But to finish off this masterfully accomplished procrastination, I'll attempt to describe in a short(ish) paragraph what's taken me months to figure out: my future plans. While I still just want to live in Barcelona learning Spanish and drinking Sangria, or live in the Belgian or German Christmas markets sipping vin chaud/gluhwein all day, I've narrowed down some more concrete plans (that sadly involve much less Sangria and gluhwein). After spending a week or so in November in Brussels visiting Vera and Chavdar, and maybe, just maybe getting to go to a day of the Christmas Market, I'm heading back to Saskatchewan until January. That's right. Spending well over a month back in my home town (and at least a week or so in Saskatoon). I believe that will be the longest amount of time I've ever spent there consecutively since I first moved to the city. But considering everything that has happened back there the last few weeks, I feel its important to properly visit and catch up with everyone. Following that, in January, I come back to Europe. Where to? Excellent question. Potentially Berlin for the job I mentioned at the beginning. Failing that, for another internship or job I find.. Doing a few internships, jobs, and/or volunteer opportunities until I find something I love. Hopefully something with travel, that brings me to yet another corner of the globe. Potentially field work. We'll see what the cards hold.
---
After the first paragraph the extended electric solos became a tad intolerable and I wrote to the new Uh Huh Her album Nocturnes. I highly recommend checking it out: http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/nocturnes/id472327889
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Thailand
Thailand.. First thing one thinks of is usually crazy sex and drug fueled vacations, movies about being thrown in Thai jail because of accidentally smuggling illegal drugs over the border, and Thai massages, usually with a happy ending, in line with the sex vacation obviously. However, what is unfortunately later to come in mind is the fact that Thailand is a buddhist country, formerly (quite recently actually) a police state, with a very rich culture, and not to mention their sandy white beaches.
For anyone who does yoga, and does the Namaste greeting, that is actually the official greeting for most of south asia. In Thailand its the same hand gesture, but is called a wai. ( I know one other Thai word than this, Thankyou)Which I have learned is a lot more difficult as a greeting than it looks. It must takes years of practice to be able to wai on command, particularly with one or both hands full. We just end up doing a head bow and smiling a lot. The Thai also are a culture full of smiles. They are very soft spoken, incredibly polite, never pushy, always helpful and always smiling. It's wonderful. You feel the buddhist philosophies radiating at every turn. For example, the waiter by the poolside overheard me complaining to Johannah about my chicken pox-like bug bites on my legs, and came out with a bottle of citronella bug spray and sprayed me down. None of them speak very much if any english, but area always laughing and smiling during the conversation (which you inevitably laugh and smile back, completely unaware of what just happened). At the market when you ask the price of an item they pull out their cellphone or calculator to show you the number of baht, or when you order a sandwhich from the café, they excitedly list off the list of possible vegetables and sauces in english that they have memorized.
The Thai members of the Thai Foreign Ministry that are in attendance of the conference are no different. At supper tonight there were always several of them asking if I wanted more rice, more water, soup, dessert, etc. I barely had time to reply yes when they were already calling over the waiter to order more for me. One of them has even volunteered to escort Johannah and I around Bangkok Sunday, bringing us to this market that is apparently even bigger and more fabulous then the one I was at last night in Cha-Am, and this Temple that is only accessible by cable car (which the table warned me to beware of the monkeys, as they tend to rush up and grab purses and steal food). Another, upon hearing this conversation about Bangkok and planning, told us about this car they always rent for sightseeing which we could rent at the locals rate (thanks to them) of 2500 baht per day. Which at 70chf that is already a steal, forget about the fact that the hotel car simply to come from the airport to the resort was 4000baht.
Speaking of the 2.5 hour car ride to the hotel, I found it delightfully refreshing. Why, you might ask, did I find a two and a half hour 115 franc car ride through a tropical very hot and humid country refreshing? Well for one, they have very "normal" sized cars here. You'd swear you were back in North America. Mid-sized sedan like cars, vans and trucks everywhere. None of the compact everything you have in Europe. Environmentally speaking, I know this isn't exactly a good thing, but its a nice change to have a large van for a long-ish ride after 20 hours of travelling, rather than a tiny compact car, regardless the emissions. Secondly, the roads are straight. YAY. In Europe, straight roads do not exist. On the highways perhaps, but there are tolls every half hour, and you tend not to take these roads unless you are driving across the country (which normally you take the train). In Switzerland every road is so curvy and steep that I've been avoiding cars like the plague because I get so carsick. It's slowly getting better, much better recently actually, but it was amazing to have a nice two hour drive on "normal" straight roads. Thirdly, although when we stepped out of the airport with the humidity and heat it was like walking in to a brick wall, I instantly had to change out of my jeans in to a skirt, peal of a layer of shirt, and pull back my hair, every closed space, buildings and cars alike, are highly air-conditioned. :) Made for two very happy campers. Actually, in many ways, Thailand feels more Western than Europe. I mean, on the car ride I saw nature first of all, nothing but lush green tropical plants, forests, trees, parks, fields, etc as well as American chains such as 7eleven, KFC, and A & W. The first and last ones I had yet to see anywhere in the world other then the US and Canada.
As far as actual tangible events go, the Conference has been going great. Jo calls them her puppies, as she says they're all so eager to learn and participate that they look up at her with those wonderful puppy eyes. For their simulation negotiations today she modeled the situation on my Masters thesis, and had them negotiating the climate security situations in the Middle East, Sudan, and Arctic. When I admitted to them that I chose those topics because there was not answer to them at the moment, it was all normative solutions not being applied, they were extremely relieved that they did not fail when they didn't come up with a solution.
When not teaching, Jo has been feverishly working every minute that she has not been swimming, eating or sleeping. So much in fact, that she actually considering taking all day Saturday off work. Why does this sound like a big deal? Well because I asked her to name me the last day she did not work at all, and we got back as far as three weeks and couldn't remember any farther. So needless to say, it will be MUCH needed, but I'll believe it when I see it. With all her working on other projects, this means that I have been doing a lot of laying by the pool at the resort, reading, and swimming, which I am not complaining about in the slightest. A bit of exploring here and there, wandering the town a bit and the market last night. Some walks on the beach, drinks at the bar, meeting other guests; which most of which are from the quite lower class UK, which is fine, but I have tremendous difficulty understanding anything they say. So other than Johannah, Robbie and Emily (UN colleagues) there hasn't been much in depth conversation with anyone else due to language barriers.
Tonight actually there is finally more people at the resort and I met this Belgian (of all places) at the bar. Flemish however, (haha), but still a nice surprise. Speaking of locations, normally people ask where I'm from, I say the Canada, and when they ask to specify, I say the middle, as no one has ever even heard of Saskatchewan, let alone can pronounce it or knows where it is. However, the random tailor we went to see down the street where Jo is getting some dresses hand made with fine Thai silk (3 at a very fabulous price), got very excited when I said I was from Saskatchewan. Why? Because he just got back from Saskatchewan to fill out the remainders of his immigration papers. He's moving there in about 8 months. Small fucking world. So to all of you in Saskatchewan, if you want the name of a fantastic tailor that will custom make you dresses, suits, jackets and the like, at an amazing price (even in Canada it will probably still be better than all the others), in a about a year check out Mr. King. (This is also the tailor who Jo thought had kidnapped her - taken her away on his scooter to some small den down some dark alley without telling where they were going, while leaving me to watch Thai/Indian television with his wife who doesn't speak a word of english. Turns out he was just bringing her to the man who cuts the cloth. Really, he could have mentioned that.) Today I also met this woman from the Beijing delegation who had done a 3 week Canada trip and had stopped in Saskatoon, get this, her favorite place out of all of them. (love it!) She loved it so much, she is convincing the Beijing delegation to go back next year.
I'll finish off this unexpectedly (but rather habitually) lengthy blog with an account of my most Thai experience to date, my traditional Thai massage. From 5-7 tonight for the price of 1000 baht ( about 32$ cdn, but which the people from the Foreign Ministry informed me later is still expensive) I received a half hour body scrub and a one and a half hour thai massage. It started off very normally, being ushered to a lovely foot washing station with black stones and flower petals in the basin to wash my feet (as the Thai consider your feet to be the dirties place, very rude to put your feet on tables, point with your feet, or touch someone else with your feet). She then gave me slippers and I followed her to our room with was like a hotel room, on the right was a bathroom, then a shower, on the left a closet, counter and mirror, and the rest of the room occupied by two massage tables. Everything was made of black marble and glass doors, and the room with the tables a very zen beige with simple white Asian architectural design. Again, all very protocol she told me (in her very broken difficult to understand english) to "take of everything," and put on a shower cap. I did what she said then walked over to the table. It was at this point where the massage got very different from other massages I've had.
She then took my towel from me, leaving me standing there naked as she grabbed the towel, and told me to lay down on the table as she layed the towel down. I then received the most through body scrub of my life. It was a coffee scrub I received, and at this very moment, 3 hours later, I still smell delicious. Why? Because there were coffee grinds in places that coffee grins have never been before. They were everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. She was quite thorough in the "scrubbing". There was a moment where I actually had to fight back from laughing; when I started thinking of the ridiculousness of the situation. "Here I am, laying down in a room with a Thai lady who is scrubbing/massaging coffee grinds in to my arm pits." After this was finished, she takes the towel off, and tells me "You go showa now!" and ushers me (totally naked) in the the shower (with the glass door) that she had already started and warmed to the perfect temperature.
After the shower, I then received a towel to cover myself again, she gave me what looked like traditional asian clothes; very loose simple white blouse, only one button at the top, and those typical very bright coloured baggy asian pants. To change in to of course right there. After this, the real Thai massage part started. Now, it was less like your typical massage than it was like a guided, rigorous, pressure point yoga, complete with thai masseuse between your legs leaning over you pushing down on your pelvis cracking your lower back. It was a little on the painful side, yes, but one of those wonderful pains that release all the tension. She did this for an hour and a half, the yoga-like stretching, pushing, poking, intense pressure points for an hour and a half, all over my body; from by toes to by hips, to my finger tips, to my scalp. I left the room barely able to say my name I was so relaxed. I don't think I have ever been more relaxed from a massage in my life. Like I said, it was more like a massage and yoga combined, with added pain. Love it.
For anyone who does yoga, and does the Namaste greeting, that is actually the official greeting for most of south asia. In Thailand its the same hand gesture, but is called a wai. ( I know one other Thai word than this, Thankyou)Which I have learned is a lot more difficult as a greeting than it looks. It must takes years of practice to be able to wai on command, particularly with one or both hands full. We just end up doing a head bow and smiling a lot. The Thai also are a culture full of smiles. They are very soft spoken, incredibly polite, never pushy, always helpful and always smiling. It's wonderful. You feel the buddhist philosophies radiating at every turn. For example, the waiter by the poolside overheard me complaining to Johannah about my chicken pox-like bug bites on my legs, and came out with a bottle of citronella bug spray and sprayed me down. None of them speak very much if any english, but area always laughing and smiling during the conversation (which you inevitably laugh and smile back, completely unaware of what just happened). At the market when you ask the price of an item they pull out their cellphone or calculator to show you the number of baht, or when you order a sandwhich from the café, they excitedly list off the list of possible vegetables and sauces in english that they have memorized.
The Thai members of the Thai Foreign Ministry that are in attendance of the conference are no different. At supper tonight there were always several of them asking if I wanted more rice, more water, soup, dessert, etc. I barely had time to reply yes when they were already calling over the waiter to order more for me. One of them has even volunteered to escort Johannah and I around Bangkok Sunday, bringing us to this market that is apparently even bigger and more fabulous then the one I was at last night in Cha-Am, and this Temple that is only accessible by cable car (which the table warned me to beware of the monkeys, as they tend to rush up and grab purses and steal food). Another, upon hearing this conversation about Bangkok and planning, told us about this car they always rent for sightseeing which we could rent at the locals rate (thanks to them) of 2500 baht per day. Which at 70chf that is already a steal, forget about the fact that the hotel car simply to come from the airport to the resort was 4000baht.
Speaking of the 2.5 hour car ride to the hotel, I found it delightfully refreshing. Why, you might ask, did I find a two and a half hour 115 franc car ride through a tropical very hot and humid country refreshing? Well for one, they have very "normal" sized cars here. You'd swear you were back in North America. Mid-sized sedan like cars, vans and trucks everywhere. None of the compact everything you have in Europe. Environmentally speaking, I know this isn't exactly a good thing, but its a nice change to have a large van for a long-ish ride after 20 hours of travelling, rather than a tiny compact car, regardless the emissions. Secondly, the roads are straight. YAY. In Europe, straight roads do not exist. On the highways perhaps, but there are tolls every half hour, and you tend not to take these roads unless you are driving across the country (which normally you take the train). In Switzerland every road is so curvy and steep that I've been avoiding cars like the plague because I get so carsick. It's slowly getting better, much better recently actually, but it was amazing to have a nice two hour drive on "normal" straight roads. Thirdly, although when we stepped out of the airport with the humidity and heat it was like walking in to a brick wall, I instantly had to change out of my jeans in to a skirt, peal of a layer of shirt, and pull back my hair, every closed space, buildings and cars alike, are highly air-conditioned. :) Made for two very happy campers. Actually, in many ways, Thailand feels more Western than Europe. I mean, on the car ride I saw nature first of all, nothing but lush green tropical plants, forests, trees, parks, fields, etc as well as American chains such as 7eleven, KFC, and A & W. The first and last ones I had yet to see anywhere in the world other then the US and Canada.
As far as actual tangible events go, the Conference has been going great. Jo calls them her puppies, as she says they're all so eager to learn and participate that they look up at her with those wonderful puppy eyes. For their simulation negotiations today she modeled the situation on my Masters thesis, and had them negotiating the climate security situations in the Middle East, Sudan, and Arctic. When I admitted to them that I chose those topics because there was not answer to them at the moment, it was all normative solutions not being applied, they were extremely relieved that they did not fail when they didn't come up with a solution.
When not teaching, Jo has been feverishly working every minute that she has not been swimming, eating or sleeping. So much in fact, that she actually considering taking all day Saturday off work. Why does this sound like a big deal? Well because I asked her to name me the last day she did not work at all, and we got back as far as three weeks and couldn't remember any farther. So needless to say, it will be MUCH needed, but I'll believe it when I see it. With all her working on other projects, this means that I have been doing a lot of laying by the pool at the resort, reading, and swimming, which I am not complaining about in the slightest. A bit of exploring here and there, wandering the town a bit and the market last night. Some walks on the beach, drinks at the bar, meeting other guests; which most of which are from the quite lower class UK, which is fine, but I have tremendous difficulty understanding anything they say. So other than Johannah, Robbie and Emily (UN colleagues) there hasn't been much in depth conversation with anyone else due to language barriers.
Tonight actually there is finally more people at the resort and I met this Belgian (of all places) at the bar. Flemish however, (haha), but still a nice surprise. Speaking of locations, normally people ask where I'm from, I say the Canada, and when they ask to specify, I say the middle, as no one has ever even heard of Saskatchewan, let alone can pronounce it or knows where it is. However, the random tailor we went to see down the street where Jo is getting some dresses hand made with fine Thai silk (3 at a very fabulous price), got very excited when I said I was from Saskatchewan. Why? Because he just got back from Saskatchewan to fill out the remainders of his immigration papers. He's moving there in about 8 months. Small fucking world. So to all of you in Saskatchewan, if you want the name of a fantastic tailor that will custom make you dresses, suits, jackets and the like, at an amazing price (even in Canada it will probably still be better than all the others), in a about a year check out Mr. King. (This is also the tailor who Jo thought had kidnapped her - taken her away on his scooter to some small den down some dark alley without telling where they were going, while leaving me to watch Thai/Indian television with his wife who doesn't speak a word of english. Turns out he was just bringing her to the man who cuts the cloth. Really, he could have mentioned that.) Today I also met this woman from the Beijing delegation who had done a 3 week Canada trip and had stopped in Saskatoon, get this, her favorite place out of all of them. (love it!) She loved it so much, she is convincing the Beijing delegation to go back next year.
I'll finish off this unexpectedly (but rather habitually) lengthy blog with an account of my most Thai experience to date, my traditional Thai massage. From 5-7 tonight for the price of 1000 baht ( about 32$ cdn, but which the people from the Foreign Ministry informed me later is still expensive) I received a half hour body scrub and a one and a half hour thai massage. It started off very normally, being ushered to a lovely foot washing station with black stones and flower petals in the basin to wash my feet (as the Thai consider your feet to be the dirties place, very rude to put your feet on tables, point with your feet, or touch someone else with your feet). She then gave me slippers and I followed her to our room with was like a hotel room, on the right was a bathroom, then a shower, on the left a closet, counter and mirror, and the rest of the room occupied by two massage tables. Everything was made of black marble and glass doors, and the room with the tables a very zen beige with simple white Asian architectural design. Again, all very protocol she told me (in her very broken difficult to understand english) to "take of everything," and put on a shower cap. I did what she said then walked over to the table. It was at this point where the massage got very different from other massages I've had.
She then took my towel from me, leaving me standing there naked as she grabbed the towel, and told me to lay down on the table as she layed the towel down. I then received the most through body scrub of my life. It was a coffee scrub I received, and at this very moment, 3 hours later, I still smell delicious. Why? Because there were coffee grinds in places that coffee grins have never been before. They were everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. She was quite thorough in the "scrubbing". There was a moment where I actually had to fight back from laughing; when I started thinking of the ridiculousness of the situation. "Here I am, laying down in a room with a Thai lady who is scrubbing/massaging coffee grinds in to my arm pits." After this was finished, she takes the towel off, and tells me "You go showa now!" and ushers me (totally naked) in the the shower (with the glass door) that she had already started and warmed to the perfect temperature.
After the shower, I then received a towel to cover myself again, she gave me what looked like traditional asian clothes; very loose simple white blouse, only one button at the top, and those typical very bright coloured baggy asian pants. To change in to of course right there. After this, the real Thai massage part started. Now, it was less like your typical massage than it was like a guided, rigorous, pressure point yoga, complete with thai masseuse between your legs leaning over you pushing down on your pelvis cracking your lower back. It was a little on the painful side, yes, but one of those wonderful pains that release all the tension. She did this for an hour and a half, the yoga-like stretching, pushing, poking, intense pressure points for an hour and a half, all over my body; from by toes to by hips, to my finger tips, to my scalp. I left the room barely able to say my name I was so relaxed. I don't think I have ever been more relaxed from a massage in my life. Like I said, it was more like a massage and yoga combined, with added pain. Love it.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Change in the air, Part 1
As I sit down to write this entry, I'm realizing how much has changed and happened in the last few months.. I just haven't had inordinate amounts of free time on the computer to document or reflect on it. It's rather been pondered and reflected at 2200m in a forest on a mountain with a few people that I've become very close with here. These two people I'm referring to, are amazing wonderful human beings. And the forest and mountain I mentioned, magical. Had you told me six months ago that this is what my life would be like right now, with these people, never would I have believed you.
But now, as it's already almost mid-August and summer is nearly over, there is a distinct pang of melancholy, and indeed almost heartache as it's sinking in that everything I've grown to love of in my life now is changing and departing yet again. People are leaving, new people are coming, everyone going their separate ways, myself included. Changing countries, changing jobs, changing friends. Sure this is all part of the package when you are an international taking on a temporary contract, but it doesn't make it any easier to cope with. Yes life is a continual evolution and progression, a continual state of "out with the old and in with the new," a necessary process in order to learn and grow, but does it all have to happen so fast? I feel like I am a completely different person now than who I was last year. I feel like so much has happened in the last year, which I guess it has.
I truly do love and seek the adventure in life, which I guess this blog makes abundantly evident, always seeking out new experiences, trying to explore and understand as much as possible. And as I embrace the buddhist wisdom and philosophy of life, that there is something to learn from everything every experience, and everyone, I suppose it would make sense that after a full year of new experiences around every corner, I would feel like a different person. But I love this. However, my grand dilemma is that I want to continue to have these adventures and live these experiences, meeting and learning from all these new people, but I would also like some sort of stability in my life. Anything really. Because as it stands, in the last 14 months, I've lived in 5 different apartments in 3 different countries, I've been forced to change groups of friends at least 5 times, and have finished two degrees and held two different jobs.
I mean, I love it, I really do, and I am so very grateful for every single minute of it, especially here, but I'm tired. I'm tired of always having to say goodbye to such wonderful people. I'm sick of constantly relocating. I hate not being able to see all or any of the people I love, as they're all scattered around the world. Maybe the problem is that I get attached to people and places too quickly? Maybe I seek out some form of stability that doesn't exist? Or maybe what I want and crave out of life just cannot co-exist... Then again, perhaps its all in how life is perceived. Actually, I think that's it. The problem then becomes, how do you change, alter, or shape your perception? Because if it came down to choosing, right now, to give it all up for permanent stability and comfort, I don't think I could. In fact, I know I couldn't. Because in the end, as tiring, volatile, instable, lonely, and transient this life can be, every single day is an opportunity to meet incredible people and experience wonderful things, appreciating and understanding life just a little more every time. So ultimately, perhaps it all comes down to simply seeing life for what it is and learning to live in the moment. Appreciating each moment individually and in the grand scheme, not in spite of its fragility and transience, but because of it.
But now, as it's already almost mid-August and summer is nearly over, there is a distinct pang of melancholy, and indeed almost heartache as it's sinking in that everything I've grown to love of in my life now is changing and departing yet again. People are leaving, new people are coming, everyone going their separate ways, myself included. Changing countries, changing jobs, changing friends. Sure this is all part of the package when you are an international taking on a temporary contract, but it doesn't make it any easier to cope with. Yes life is a continual evolution and progression, a continual state of "out with the old and in with the new," a necessary process in order to learn and grow, but does it all have to happen so fast? I feel like I am a completely different person now than who I was last year. I feel like so much has happened in the last year, which I guess it has.
I truly do love and seek the adventure in life, which I guess this blog makes abundantly evident, always seeking out new experiences, trying to explore and understand as much as possible. And as I embrace the buddhist wisdom and philosophy of life, that there is something to learn from everything every experience, and everyone, I suppose it would make sense that after a full year of new experiences around every corner, I would feel like a different person. But I love this. However, my grand dilemma is that I want to continue to have these adventures and live these experiences, meeting and learning from all these new people, but I would also like some sort of stability in my life. Anything really. Because as it stands, in the last 14 months, I've lived in 5 different apartments in 3 different countries, I've been forced to change groups of friends at least 5 times, and have finished two degrees and held two different jobs.
I mean, I love it, I really do, and I am so very grateful for every single minute of it, especially here, but I'm tired. I'm tired of always having to say goodbye to such wonderful people. I'm sick of constantly relocating. I hate not being able to see all or any of the people I love, as they're all scattered around the world. Maybe the problem is that I get attached to people and places too quickly? Maybe I seek out some form of stability that doesn't exist? Or maybe what I want and crave out of life just cannot co-exist... Then again, perhaps its all in how life is perceived. Actually, I think that's it. The problem then becomes, how do you change, alter, or shape your perception? Because if it came down to choosing, right now, to give it all up for permanent stability and comfort, I don't think I could. In fact, I know I couldn't. Because in the end, as tiring, volatile, instable, lonely, and transient this life can be, every single day is an opportunity to meet incredible people and experience wonderful things, appreciating and understanding life just a little more every time. So ultimately, perhaps it all comes down to simply seeing life for what it is and learning to live in the moment. Appreciating each moment individually and in the grand scheme, not in spite of its fragility and transience, but because of it.
Monday, July 11, 2011
The illusive life of the nerve center
Life is simple, in a complicated sort of way. There are delicious communal meals, visitors and old friends popping by, the garden outside, neighbours that wave, say hello, and ask how things are going. Hikes in the forest, trees, and mountains, swimming in the quarry, and playing with the dogs. People straddled across three different houses, all quietly perched in front of their computers, either listening to soft classical music, or the quiet hum of birds and cars outside.
At first glance, it all seems quite normal and effortless, even dull. But when you start paying closer attention, you realize that there are a few anomalies about. Small things at first, like two African hand crafted masks from Zimbabwe hanging on the wall near the kitchen, and and Eco Technology Kettle on the counter. Or a very pronounced abstract sculpture from South Africa next the to flat screen which has perched on it two traditional Venetian masks. Then you realize that nearly every piece of art and decor in the three houses has a special history and link to its owner from all across the world.
From this point forth you notice the larger deviations from the habitual. Like the conversation at lunch that started off discussing Princess Charlene of Monaco's ill-fitting wedding dress had quickly turned in to fashion ideals, deterministic elite fashion oppression, and slaves to the conformity. The old friend that popped in to visit on her way through town, is actually one of the delegates of the United Nations Environment Programme to the preparatory meetings for Rio +20, on her way through the valley on a 3 day high altitude glacier hike. The quiet half whispered conversation in the corner between two women, is actually them discussing the final draft of a Tilapia project proposal seeking to potentially solve the global protein gap. And the man intently fixed on his iPhone on the train is actually accessing the lastest debate and comments made by the member states of the United Nations Economic Commission for Europe so he can incorporate them in to the next version of a revolutionary Sustainable Housing Treaty he's preparing.
The lesson? Life and people are never what they seem, especially here. Everyone and everything has a much more complicated, and yet much simpler side to it or them then one could ever grasp at first glance. Even at second. However, as intricate as everything may seem, it still has a very natural feel to it. Helping friends settle and move in to their new house remains the same, regardless whether you are moving priceless handcrafted vases from Africa and the couple is a Private chef from New Zealand and a multi talented once refugee from Zimbabwe. Going over to cheer up a friend who's feeling down still has the same humbling and heartwarming feeling, even if you actually need her help because a Final Report for the United Nations Environment Programme is due, and the Chief Executive Officer is on the phone. A walk is still a walk, whether around the neighbourhood or strolling past 400 year old grange's on your way to the telecabine for a high altitude rock climb at 2700m. And the most delicious bio organic vegan meal you have ever tasted, is still just a family supper around the table.
At first glance, it all seems quite normal and effortless, even dull. But when you start paying closer attention, you realize that there are a few anomalies about. Small things at first, like two African hand crafted masks from Zimbabwe hanging on the wall near the kitchen, and and Eco Technology Kettle on the counter. Or a very pronounced abstract sculpture from South Africa next the to flat screen which has perched on it two traditional Venetian masks. Then you realize that nearly every piece of art and decor in the three houses has a special history and link to its owner from all across the world.
From this point forth you notice the larger deviations from the habitual. Like the conversation at lunch that started off discussing Princess Charlene of Monaco's ill-fitting wedding dress had quickly turned in to fashion ideals, deterministic elite fashion oppression, and slaves to the conformity. The old friend that popped in to visit on her way through town, is actually one of the delegates of the United Nations Environment Programme to the preparatory meetings for Rio +20, on her way through the valley on a 3 day high altitude glacier hike. The quiet half whispered conversation in the corner between two women, is actually them discussing the final draft of a Tilapia project proposal seeking to potentially solve the global protein gap. And the man intently fixed on his iPhone on the train is actually accessing the lastest debate and comments made by the member states of the United Nations Economic Commission for Europe so he can incorporate them in to the next version of a revolutionary Sustainable Housing Treaty he's preparing.
The lesson? Life and people are never what they seem, especially here. Everyone and everything has a much more complicated, and yet much simpler side to it or them then one could ever grasp at first glance. Even at second. However, as intricate as everything may seem, it still has a very natural feel to it. Helping friends settle and move in to their new house remains the same, regardless whether you are moving priceless handcrafted vases from Africa and the couple is a Private chef from New Zealand and a multi talented once refugee from Zimbabwe. Going over to cheer up a friend who's feeling down still has the same humbling and heartwarming feeling, even if you actually need her help because a Final Report for the United Nations Environment Programme is due, and the Chief Executive Officer is on the phone. A walk is still a walk, whether around the neighbourhood or strolling past 400 year old grange's on your way to the telecabine for a high altitude rock climb at 2700m. And the most delicious bio organic vegan meal you have ever tasted, is still just a family supper around the table.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
My day at the UN
So I just spent my day today at the UN in meetings and editing a 20 page formal document synthesizing the member states comments on a UNECE Sustainable Housing Treaty, that I will aid Johannah in finishing editing tonight, no big deal.
Are you kidding me? This internship is ridiculous. A good, amazing kind of ridiculous though. The UN was... not what I expected and exactly what I expected all at the same time. A UN culture develops among the thousands of people working there, who all become a tiny cog in this giant bureaucratic machine. Long hallways of closed identical doors and bar codes. Many cafés and bars spread out on many different floors and many buildings of the UN Palais des Nations grounds. Each filled with delegates, representatives and staff discussing various bits and pieces of what eventually become international treaties, projects and missions.
It's all painstakingly boring and dull, but interesting and exciting all at the same time. As for Geneva, I didn't really get to see much of it on our 20 minute trip from the train station to the Palais des Nations, and from the Palais des Nations back to the train station, as is the life of business travel. However, from what I saw, very Swiss. To Canadians, this might not mean much, but to Europeans or anyone familiar with Swiss culture, that is all the description needed. Also outrageously expensive. 2 half baguettes and a bottle of water and coke cost Jo and I 17 francs. Seventeen.... The bathroom Jo used at the mall/train station cost 1,50 francs just to get in. However, it was the most luxurious and cleanest public bathroom we had ever seen, as would be expected of the Swiss.
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| The entrance to the bathroom, Jo getting change. |
Sunday, June 12, 2011
I'm loving it:)
Life here.... is simple, easy, peaceful. Even though we put in some 15 hour work days, and did work of some kind every day of the week. So, why is it so relaxing? Well I think I've narrowed it down to a few key reasons:
A) The small town environment. I rarely ever check my cell phone, let alone carry it on me. Because everyone I would want to get a hold of, I always know where to find them or when I will see them next. And if they are not with me, chances are they are within 200m or a 2 minute walk.
B) No TV. It is extremely rare for the TV to get turned on. If it does, it is usually one of the boys watching TV late at night, or us working late on a Friday or Saturday night and put a movie on in the background while we work. But with no TV, AND no cell phone (or barely), there is no distractions or unnecessary chatter in the background of everything. It's blissful. This also makes for very peaceful relaxing mornings, quietly siting at the table in the sunlight, reading the news websites, sipping my Lady Gray tea and eating my Mango.
C) With this, it means there is MUCH more time for so many more activities, and much less time on FB and in front of the computer. In this last week alone we have gone on a 2h hike twice, gone swimming at Le Gouille twice, and done yoga twice. We have eaten every lunch and supper together, at the table. And amazing healthy food might I add. We have also had pedicure, Will & Grace, and girl talk nights, and a BBQ gathering of all of our collective friends here. This is all in one week might I add, on top of insane work schedules and ridiculous near impossible deadlines, that leave Jo, Nino and I locked up in a bedroom working like mad until the last possible moment where we have to emerge and join everyone else at the BBQ, that we were hosting.
D) Another reason, and quite possible the most important, on top of having music playing all the time (no radio + no TV = no adds, just fantastic international music), is Johannah. That woman is amazing. She is quite literally my new hero. And Jo, if you stumble across my blog and read this, I mean every word of what I'm about to say, or rather write. She is so energetic, enthusiastic, positive, caring, nurturing, accepting, flexible, inclusive, approachable and driven. At the age of 50, she has the spirit and the looks of someone decades younger, the crazy/silly-ness of someone even younger than that, but has accomplished things, particularly career-wise that most people can't even dream of. She started her own consulting practice, and today she drafts treaties to be signed at symposiums gathering the top brilliant minds in diverse fields around the world. She has projects ongoing with seven national governments. She does business, advising, proposals and more treaties for top international organisations including but not limited to the UN. All while being one of the most down to earth people I have ever met. For example, I had a hard time/bad moment the other day and ended up breaking down in my room, and she just knew that I was upset, and why I was upset, and came to my room and sat there with me, comforting me as I tried to pull myself together. There is literally like 3 people on this planet that have a) wanted to or been able to comfort me b) that I have been comfortable enough with to let them in the room. I just feel so privileged to have this opportunity to get to know her, to work with her, and live along side her.
All that being said, as you can imagine, life has been busy. Actually today, tonight, is probably one of the first FREE evening I've had, and I plan to spend probably an hour of it on the phone with Morgan, whom I haven't spoken to since 2010! The reason we have a free evening? Because we spent from 9:30am to 2:30pm, straight, packing, moving, and cleaning to move downstairs. Then when we finished, more cleaning. Because Sonja, our landlord, is a self titled Cleaning Gastapo. Then when we finally finished everything, we ate lunch, then unpacked and settled in. No more than 5 minutes after this was finished, since it was gorgeous and sunny out, and we were sweaty from the day, Juraj, Olivia and I went for a swim with Jo and the girls. After this was finished, we all went home, took a hot shower, and here we are now with me sitting on the couch writing this blog while Juraj and Olivia scrounge together enough food to make supper. Because obviously all grocery stores are closed on Sunday, and as we buy the food fresh that day to cook, we never ever remember to buy food in advance for Sunday. However, as Juraj, Olivia and Nino are such AMAZING fantastic cooks, even with no ingredients, we are still having a Tomato and Olive Torte. Olivia even makes fresh, ridiculously heathy and delicious muffins, or granola, or some other snack, every day. She rocks. For lunch we always have this huge fantastic salad, different ingredients daily, sometimes with some fresh smoked salmon on the side with a herb cream cheese spread and fresh dark bread from the bakery. I know I said this last blog, but I literally don't want to leave.
Side notes:
1) Here is a tour of our new place for the rest of the summer :)
2) The title is obviously inspired by the McDonalds slogan. The reasoning is that we have been coming up with these great quotes or slogans out of the blue this week, only to realize a few moments later that they are a Telus or Mastercard quote....Long live capitalism....
A) The small town environment. I rarely ever check my cell phone, let alone carry it on me. Because everyone I would want to get a hold of, I always know where to find them or when I will see them next. And if they are not with me, chances are they are within 200m or a 2 minute walk.
B) No TV. It is extremely rare for the TV to get turned on. If it does, it is usually one of the boys watching TV late at night, or us working late on a Friday or Saturday night and put a movie on in the background while we work. But with no TV, AND no cell phone (or barely), there is no distractions or unnecessary chatter in the background of everything. It's blissful. This also makes for very peaceful relaxing mornings, quietly siting at the table in the sunlight, reading the news websites, sipping my Lady Gray tea and eating my Mango.
C) With this, it means there is MUCH more time for so many more activities, and much less time on FB and in front of the computer. In this last week alone we have gone on a 2h hike twice, gone swimming at Le Gouille twice, and done yoga twice. We have eaten every lunch and supper together, at the table. And amazing healthy food might I add. We have also had pedicure, Will & Grace, and girl talk nights, and a BBQ gathering of all of our collective friends here. This is all in one week might I add, on top of insane work schedules and ridiculous near impossible deadlines, that leave Jo, Nino and I locked up in a bedroom working like mad until the last possible moment where we have to emerge and join everyone else at the BBQ, that we were hosting.
D) Another reason, and quite possible the most important, on top of having music playing all the time (no radio + no TV = no adds, just fantastic international music), is Johannah. That woman is amazing. She is quite literally my new hero. And Jo, if you stumble across my blog and read this, I mean every word of what I'm about to say, or rather write. She is so energetic, enthusiastic, positive, caring, nurturing, accepting, flexible, inclusive, approachable and driven. At the age of 50, she has the spirit and the looks of someone decades younger, the crazy/silly-ness of someone even younger than that, but has accomplished things, particularly career-wise that most people can't even dream of. She started her own consulting practice, and today she drafts treaties to be signed at symposiums gathering the top brilliant minds in diverse fields around the world. She has projects ongoing with seven national governments. She does business, advising, proposals and more treaties for top international organisations including but not limited to the UN. All while being one of the most down to earth people I have ever met. For example, I had a hard time/bad moment the other day and ended up breaking down in my room, and she just knew that I was upset, and why I was upset, and came to my room and sat there with me, comforting me as I tried to pull myself together. There is literally like 3 people on this planet that have a) wanted to or been able to comfort me b) that I have been comfortable enough with to let them in the room. I just feel so privileged to have this opportunity to get to know her, to work with her, and live along side her.
All that being said, as you can imagine, life has been busy. Actually today, tonight, is probably one of the first FREE evening I've had, and I plan to spend probably an hour of it on the phone with Morgan, whom I haven't spoken to since 2010! The reason we have a free evening? Because we spent from 9:30am to 2:30pm, straight, packing, moving, and cleaning to move downstairs. Then when we finished, more cleaning. Because Sonja, our landlord, is a self titled Cleaning Gastapo. Then when we finally finished everything, we ate lunch, then unpacked and settled in. No more than 5 minutes after this was finished, since it was gorgeous and sunny out, and we were sweaty from the day, Juraj, Olivia and I went for a swim with Jo and the girls. After this was finished, we all went home, took a hot shower, and here we are now with me sitting on the couch writing this blog while Juraj and Olivia scrounge together enough food to make supper. Because obviously all grocery stores are closed on Sunday, and as we buy the food fresh that day to cook, we never ever remember to buy food in advance for Sunday. However, as Juraj, Olivia and Nino are such AMAZING fantastic cooks, even with no ingredients, we are still having a Tomato and Olive Torte. Olivia even makes fresh, ridiculously heathy and delicious muffins, or granola, or some other snack, every day. She rocks. For lunch we always have this huge fantastic salad, different ingredients daily, sometimes with some fresh smoked salmon on the side with a herb cream cheese spread and fresh dark bread from the bakery. I know I said this last blog, but I literally don't want to leave.
Side notes:
1) Here is a tour of our new place for the rest of the summer :)
2) The title is obviously inspired by the McDonalds slogan. The reasoning is that we have been coming up with these great quotes or slogans out of the blue this week, only to realize a few moments later that they are a Telus or Mastercard quote....Long live capitalism....
Monday, June 6, 2011
Insert Witty Title Here
So it has been exactly one week since we first arrived, after a bit of a rough weekend, and not the good kind of rough. The arriving stage of everything being shiny and pretty has passed, and the reality has sunk in. Perhaps a little too far.. I think it might need to rebound up a tad to get back to normal.
Things I miss:
Subway
Belgian sandwiches/subs
Cafés
PEOPLE (ie, friends, family, larger numbers of people, strangers, etc.)
Chocolate soy milk
Close and frequent markets
People
Bars and nightlife
Dancing
and have I mentioned people?
More specifically, the reality of being stuck in a house isolated in the mountains, with the same 3 people that you live, work, and play with, is getting to me. Especially when I have always had a wide variety of friends that I hang out with. I've lived with 3-6 people before, but I have always always had my separate friends. However, I have met a few other people here that seem pretty great.. so we'll see. One way or another, this experience here in the mountains is sure to be an 'experience'.
Things I miss:
Subway
Belgian sandwiches/subs
Cafés
PEOPLE (ie, friends, family, larger numbers of people, strangers, etc.)
Chocolate soy milk
Close and frequent markets
People
Bars and nightlife
Dancing
and have I mentioned people?
More specifically, the reality of being stuck in a house isolated in the mountains, with the same 3 people that you live, work, and play with, is getting to me. Especially when I have always had a wide variety of friends that I hang out with. I've lived with 3-6 people before, but I have always always had my separate friends. However, I have met a few other people here that seem pretty great.. so we'll see. One way or another, this experience here in the mountains is sure to be an 'experience'.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
I may need assistance from someone with better coping skills or patience than I..
You know what drives me crazy? Don't answer that. I know the list is long.. Let me rephrase.. What is bothering me very much right now? Yes, that's better. Unappreciative people. Individuals who don't appreciate all the goodness they have in their life. I know that we are all human, and everyone, even the most selfless people at one point in time may take somethings for granted, but there is a limit. There is an extent to which it is acceptable to take certain things for granted, and when it borders on ignorant and selfish. My theory, is that these are people who don't have enough real problems in their life, have never been subject to any real hardship, or are incapable of empathy. They therefore can't handle the slightest little bump in their otherwise very good lives. However, I realize that this is also not their fault that they can't handle it, and isn't even a bad thing that they haven't had the experience in dealing with actual problems and situations. But it very much is their fault when they completely blow up and make a HUGE deal out of a very insignificant event. For example, having to share a room with one other person for 2 weeks. Having to sleep in bunk beds, in a room with a private bathroom, that normally costs 10x more, in one of the most beautiful places in Europe, while having this amazing experience and opportunity. For 2 weeks, while your normal suite of a room is occupied. No you're right, that is the end of the world. You should make a big deal about that. I mean, there are people every day and night that sleep on the street, go hungry day, that lose their fathers, mothers, siblings, or children to war and various tragedies, but no, you having to sleep in bunk beds, THAT is the real crisis. My bad. What was I thinking...
How do you take someone like that seriously? I'm literally asking. I know that this is particularly a touchy issue for me, so I am genuinely asking for some guidance anyone might have on this.
How do you take someone like that seriously? I'm literally asking. I know that this is particularly a touchy issue for me, so I am genuinely asking for some guidance anyone might have on this.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Smell that mountain air..
Life is already very settling here, and Johannah isn't even back from Canada yet, nor is the full team here. Juraj arrives here late tonight, and Olivia, the sister of a previous intern, Laura, who loved it here so much she ended up living here (is still here), is arriving sometime over the weekend I think. Meanwhile, Jo finally gets back Monday early afternoon from Montréal.
Life is just so beautiful and peaceful here. It is a small town, so there is no rush of the city, has that small town calmness, you can leisurely walk the 30 seconds to 2 minutes it takes to get anywhere. Plus its in the middle of the mountains, so you have this very natural, calming, serene atmosphere and scenery. I mean, right now, I'm sitting on our kitchen balcony basking in the morning sun writing this blog. That's another aspect of life here that I absolutely love, the routine.
The day and work day are very much adapted to life here. The morning is the most beautiful time of the day, as the afternoon gets windy with the mountain wind. So we all get up anywhere between 6 and 8, 9 if we sleep in, and take advantage of the morning. This includes downhill biking for Nino, swimming in the lake/pond for Aurora, hiking/swimming with the dogs for Jo, or yoga, daily groceries, working on our dissertation, having a very lengthy breakfast and catching up on the news, and anything else that comes to mind.
We then start work at 11, with Jo calling us at 4 to check in and give us new assignments and projects, and finishing at 7pm. As we often finish our previous assignments or are stuck on the current ones without Jo's aid before 4pm, we have often been taking an extended version of the normal lunch of cooking together and eating our healthy salad or sandwiches, and adding a hike to the lake/pond with the dogs, afternoon exploring, or helping Sonja (our Australian owner of the Chalet) with the packing and moving she has to do readying their new Chalet, as part of the 4 hours of work we help her with a month as part of our rental contract.
Then after work, we always all eat together, this rule is stipulated by Jo. If Nino isn't cooking, he tries to squeeze in another run down the mountain before supper, or Jo plays with her girls. Then after supper we all part ways again where some of us go for a drink or two at a local pub, some catch up on some reading, tv watching or alone time, and others just chill and hangout, or go to bed early... Something a little more relaxing after all the activity of the day. I mean, physical activity is so engrained in life here that you barely notice it, yet my legs and ass are perpetually stiff with everything and all the extreme uphill and downhill walking.
In many ways, it all reminds me of Canada and the Prairies.. Maybe this is why I feel so at home here? Or that I'm surrounded by Canadians? As Jo, Olivia, Laura, Aurora and I are all Canadian haha. Whatever the reason, I completely love it and am very glad I will be spending 3 months here. I even love the work. Some assignments, as with anything, maybe be a little on the tedious side, but in general its great. We each lead certain projects, cooperate on others, take on deadline projects, or just help Jo with some administrative style work. Some are for United Nations Environment Program, some are for the Swiss Development Cooperation, others are for cross-cutting government initiatives. All in all, I'm pretty sure I will never want to leave.
Life is just so beautiful and peaceful here. It is a small town, so there is no rush of the city, has that small town calmness, you can leisurely walk the 30 seconds to 2 minutes it takes to get anywhere. Plus its in the middle of the mountains, so you have this very natural, calming, serene atmosphere and scenery. I mean, right now, I'm sitting on our kitchen balcony basking in the morning sun writing this blog. That's another aspect of life here that I absolutely love, the routine.
The day and work day are very much adapted to life here. The morning is the most beautiful time of the day, as the afternoon gets windy with the mountain wind. So we all get up anywhere between 6 and 8, 9 if we sleep in, and take advantage of the morning. This includes downhill biking for Nino, swimming in the lake/pond for Aurora, hiking/swimming with the dogs for Jo, or yoga, daily groceries, working on our dissertation, having a very lengthy breakfast and catching up on the news, and anything else that comes to mind.
We then start work at 11, with Jo calling us at 4 to check in and give us new assignments and projects, and finishing at 7pm. As we often finish our previous assignments or are stuck on the current ones without Jo's aid before 4pm, we have often been taking an extended version of the normal lunch of cooking together and eating our healthy salad or sandwiches, and adding a hike to the lake/pond with the dogs, afternoon exploring, or helping Sonja (our Australian owner of the Chalet) with the packing and moving she has to do readying their new Chalet, as part of the 4 hours of work we help her with a month as part of our rental contract.
Then after work, we always all eat together, this rule is stipulated by Jo. If Nino isn't cooking, he tries to squeeze in another run down the mountain before supper, or Jo plays with her girls. Then after supper we all part ways again where some of us go for a drink or two at a local pub, some catch up on some reading, tv watching or alone time, and others just chill and hangout, or go to bed early... Something a little more relaxing after all the activity of the day. I mean, physical activity is so engrained in life here that you barely notice it, yet my legs and ass are perpetually stiff with everything and all the extreme uphill and downhill walking.
In many ways, it all reminds me of Canada and the Prairies.. Maybe this is why I feel so at home here? Or that I'm surrounded by Canadians? As Jo, Olivia, Laura, Aurora and I are all Canadian haha. Whatever the reason, I completely love it and am very glad I will be spending 3 months here. I even love the work. Some assignments, as with anything, maybe be a little on the tedious side, but in general its great. We each lead certain projects, cooperate on others, take on deadline projects, or just help Jo with some administrative style work. Some are for United Nations Environment Program, some are for the Swiss Development Cooperation, others are for cross-cutting government initiatives. All in all, I'm pretty sure I will never want to leave.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
It was love at first sight.
The minute I glanced past Aurora and the African lady, out of the Easyjet window as we descended on Geneva, it was done. Everything from this point forth just solidified the concept; I was in love. From the obvious green policies that are reflected in everything from the airport buses to building layouts, to the precision and thought behind every construct, to the amazing amount of greenery everywhere, including flower shops in the airport/train station, to the obviously breathtaking scenery on our 2h22 train trip from Geneva to Le Châble.
When we finally arrived at Le Châble to Chalet Mavambo, our home for the next little while (11 days I believe before we move downstairs to a very similar home), it was only amplified. It is an absolutely gorgeous 5 star chalet (I made up the rating, but it feels to me like a 4 or 5 star) that tourists in the peak season pay up to 4000chf (chf=Swiss franc) a week for, and we are getting for 400€ a week. It's all made of wood, with subtle rock undertones, skylighting, and big windows and balconies everywhere, including in each bedroom. Our bedrooms upstairs each have their own queen size bed, closet, private bathroom and shower, sky light, and balcony. The kitchen is amazing, as can be expected, and the view is even better.
It's my first morning here, and already I feel very relaxed, like I belong. As soon as Nino gets up (he usually wakes at 7 or 8, but today he is apparently sleeping in as its already almost 9), we will take a walk and he will show me the town. He warned me that it would only take about 15 minutes or so for this tour, but I am obviously nonetheless excited. I'm no stranger to tiny towns. He says Le Châble has a population of about 400, but that is including random cabins and houses in the area. It is a very short (less than 10 minutes) bus ride from the very popular Verbier, with a base altitude of 1500m, and 5m to 200m walk to anything we need from groceries, bakery, bike rental, Jo's place aka where we work, restaurants, and supplies.
Jo is currently gone back to Canada until June 4th or 5th, so Aurora and I have the week to get used to the place and help Nino with the tasks she laid out for while she is gone before she returns and we get to serious work. He says the schedule is extremely flexible, like Jo, and our work day is from 11am to 7pm, followed by a communal supper at Jo's. However this is subject to Jo's whims, which vary from relaxation and swim breaks to deadlines and late nights. Nino says that evening, like in most small towns tucked away in nature, end much earlier then in the city and are usually very relaxing, while mornings which start roughly at 7am are spent hiking or biking.
The absolute only complaint I have thus far, is that I somehow have to keep myself indoors long enough to work on my thesis this summer, and the bed and pillows are uncomfortable.
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| View fullscreen :) |
It's my first morning here, and already I feel very relaxed, like I belong. As soon as Nino gets up (he usually wakes at 7 or 8, but today he is apparently sleeping in as its already almost 9), we will take a walk and he will show me the town. He warned me that it would only take about 15 minutes or so for this tour, but I am obviously nonetheless excited. I'm no stranger to tiny towns. He says Le Châble has a population of about 400, but that is including random cabins and houses in the area. It is a very short (less than 10 minutes) bus ride from the very popular Verbier, with a base altitude of 1500m, and 5m to 200m walk to anything we need from groceries, bakery, bike rental, Jo's place aka where we work, restaurants, and supplies.
Jo is currently gone back to Canada until June 4th or 5th, so Aurora and I have the week to get used to the place and help Nino with the tasks she laid out for while she is gone before she returns and we get to serious work. He says the schedule is extremely flexible, like Jo, and our work day is from 11am to 7pm, followed by a communal supper at Jo's. However this is subject to Jo's whims, which vary from relaxation and swim breaks to deadlines and late nights. Nino says that evening, like in most small towns tucked away in nature, end much earlier then in the city and are usually very relaxing, while mornings which start roughly at 7am are spent hiking or biking.
The absolute only complaint I have thus far, is that I somehow have to keep myself indoors long enough to work on my thesis this summer, and the bed and pillows are uncomfortable.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
The Times They Are a-Changin'
Right now it is currently 4:17pm, the day before I leave for Switzerland from here at 2:15pm, Chavdar and I have dinner reservations at 8pm at a fondue restaurant that will take at least a half hour to get to, I have a few important things to get done tomorrow morning, and I am nowhere near being packed. Not only do I have to pack my suitcases, figure out logistically how I will pack said suitcases to carry them, but I have to pack up and put away the rest of my room and stuff too. And what am I doing? Blogging...
My trip to Canada was good. Very bittersweet though, as I realized that everything has changed. Mom kept saying that she was so excited for me to go to Switzerland because it meant I was starting a new phase in my life. I kept telling her no, I would just be there for 3 months, but I think she was right. Yes that's right mom, I said you were right. Just seeing old friends made me realize how far we've all gone, and how much we've grown, mostly apart. But friends that old, you know that no matter how much you grow apart, the minute you get back together you start creating new memories that tie you together again. I think the problem is more with newer friends. I mean, a person that I previously considered as my best friend, is now doing nothing but bitching about me to anyone that will listen, spreading rumours, and talking behind my back. Without even so much as a "Have fun in Switzerland" or "How was your trip back to Canada". My real friends tell me, when they see how much this pains me to have a not only a friend but a best friend do this to me, keep telling me that he is just jealous and petty. But it is just hard for me to wrap my head around how much a person can change in the span of one year. I mean, I guess I have changed a lot as well, what with everything that has happend in the last year of my life, but its just hard seeing someone you were so close to turn against you.
So to the friends that came to see me while I was back in Canada, who took time out of their lives to pick me up from somewhere, to meet me for a drink, to let me stay at their place or even to drop other plans to be able to Skype while I was in a similar timezone, and to the friends who have been there for me but I was not able to see, for a variety of reasons not limited to the incredibly short period of time I was there, and especially to my European friends who have also went out of their way over the last year to see me, who have been there for me, and who plan to come see me in Switzerland, I love you all and I am eternally grateful for your friendship. While it saddens me how people can grow appart so quickly, and how friends drift apart and no longer have much in common, no matter how close they used to be, I do understand, as it is a part of life. To the many people whom this applies to that were once an integral part of my life, I am grateful for your presence in my life as well, and am glad that I got to share a part of my life with you. However, to the people who have become ungrateful, bitchy, backstabbing, gossipy assholes, especially to the people who you once called your friends, you are a detriment to society and you can jump up your own ass and die. :)
Well I don't want them to die, I don't wish that for anyone, but I'm having a hard time thinking of a better and stronger way to tell them to go fuck themselves. Anyways.. I now have to meet Chavdar in exactly 2h30 hours, and still have my entire room to pack. So I will most likely see you again in a couple days, with a tour and pictures of my new place in Switzerland :)
My trip to Canada was good. Very bittersweet though, as I realized that everything has changed. Mom kept saying that she was so excited for me to go to Switzerland because it meant I was starting a new phase in my life. I kept telling her no, I would just be there for 3 months, but I think she was right. Yes that's right mom, I said you were right. Just seeing old friends made me realize how far we've all gone, and how much we've grown, mostly apart. But friends that old, you know that no matter how much you grow apart, the minute you get back together you start creating new memories that tie you together again. I think the problem is more with newer friends. I mean, a person that I previously considered as my best friend, is now doing nothing but bitching about me to anyone that will listen, spreading rumours, and talking behind my back. Without even so much as a "Have fun in Switzerland" or "How was your trip back to Canada". My real friends tell me, when they see how much this pains me to have a not only a friend but a best friend do this to me, keep telling me that he is just jealous and petty. But it is just hard for me to wrap my head around how much a person can change in the span of one year. I mean, I guess I have changed a lot as well, what with everything that has happend in the last year of my life, but its just hard seeing someone you were so close to turn against you.
So to the friends that came to see me while I was back in Canada, who took time out of their lives to pick me up from somewhere, to meet me for a drink, to let me stay at their place or even to drop other plans to be able to Skype while I was in a similar timezone, and to the friends who have been there for me but I was not able to see, for a variety of reasons not limited to the incredibly short period of time I was there, and especially to my European friends who have also went out of their way over the last year to see me, who have been there for me, and who plan to come see me in Switzerland, I love you all and I am eternally grateful for your friendship. While it saddens me how people can grow appart so quickly, and how friends drift apart and no longer have much in common, no matter how close they used to be, I do understand, as it is a part of life. To the many people whom this applies to that were once an integral part of my life, I am grateful for your presence in my life as well, and am glad that I got to share a part of my life with you. However, to the people who have become ungrateful, bitchy, backstabbing, gossipy assholes, especially to the people who you once called your friends, you are a detriment to society and you can jump up your own ass and die. :)
Well I don't want them to die, I don't wish that for anyone, but I'm having a hard time thinking of a better and stronger way to tell them to go fuck themselves. Anyways.. I now have to meet Chavdar in exactly 2h30 hours, and still have my entire room to pack. So I will most likely see you again in a couple days, with a tour and pictures of my new place in Switzerland :)
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
I feel like a foreigner..
So, back in Canada, waiting out my 5 hour layover in Toronto right now. First time I've been back on Canadian soil and had the time to really look around and take it in. First reactions? Not so positif. I actually had to refrain from writing a blog the last coupe hours, because it would not have had an 'upside'. It was almost abrasive. Random service people in the airport are far less polite. More helpful, but less polite. The style kind of made me cringe. I can pick out a European, or someone else who is just coming from Europe a mile away. People are far more overweight here. The diversity is more evident for some reason. So it the environmental UNfriendliness. The service is noticeably more efficient. People are far more relaxed in public. Along with that, people here are incredibly friendlier.
I mean, I know that, I am Canadian after all. But being away for a while makes you forget just how friendly people are. The last 5 minutes I have witnessed: a flight attendant stop and tell a little 3 year old boy how cute his hat was, and chat with the mother about where they're going; a girl ahead of me in line say her sandwich didn't have cheese and it was supposed to, only to have the barrista without hesitation offer to giver her money back, to which the girl replied she'd just like a piece of cheese. A man standing in front of me helped her pick out a new sandwich and made sure it had cheese; As a picked up my latte a man picking his up ahead of me asked me if I knew what a Chai Tea was. I hesitated and he laughed and joked that I didn't even know. This is all honestly more 'friendliness' in these last 5 minutes than I've probably witnessed in months in Belgium. I don't really know how to deal with it and all of this right now... Then again, that could have something to do with the fact that it's currently almost 2am my time, almost 8pm here, and almost 6pm SK time.
I mean, I know that, I am Canadian after all. But being away for a while makes you forget just how friendly people are. The last 5 minutes I have witnessed: a flight attendant stop and tell a little 3 year old boy how cute his hat was, and chat with the mother about where they're going; a girl ahead of me in line say her sandwich didn't have cheese and it was supposed to, only to have the barrista without hesitation offer to giver her money back, to which the girl replied she'd just like a piece of cheese. A man standing in front of me helped her pick out a new sandwich and made sure it had cheese; As a picked up my latte a man picking his up ahead of me asked me if I knew what a Chai Tea was. I hesitated and he laughed and joked that I didn't even know. This is all honestly more 'friendliness' in these last 5 minutes than I've probably witnessed in months in Belgium. I don't really know how to deal with it and all of this right now... Then again, that could have something to do with the fact that it's currently almost 2am my time, almost 8pm here, and almost 6pm SK time.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Gay Pride Brussels
In case you didn't see my status update, Gay Pride Brussels rocked my world. Who would have thought? Brussels. I guess it makes sense that the gay community have the best partiers..lol. Hopefully I will be able to make it to London for their gay pride this year with Alison, and top this one.
Since I FINALLY got internet back a couple hours ago, I thought I'd write a blog about the day, since it was definitely a fantastic last weekend in Brussels. I want to say that this will not be a long post at all, as most of the events and stories are censored in some way, either not fit for a public blog, or are not my stories to tell, but knowing me it probably still will be. But suffice to say, that with a day of 45 000 LGBT all together, it was madness. Fantastical madness.
The parade that was absolutely massive compared to other gay pride parades I've seen, started at 2 with a minute of silence for those around the world that do not have the freedom to express themselves as here, and continued to slowly parade throughout the centre for the better part of 4 hours. All kinds of floats, each with their own, as Paul would say, thumpa thumpa music going on.
There was people absolutely everywhere, all kinds of stands, bars and drinks, and 3 different stages. The mainstage events started at 7, with the fabulous LaDiva hosting, and amazing dancers, a male stripper, incredible costume change dancer, performers, singers, and Betty as the main act. Yes Betty. For those of you who don't know them, or have never heard of a little show called The L Word that they created the theme song and much of the music for, they're fantastic. After all of this, the real party started. There was a DJ at the mainstage, and 3 official parties with many other unofficial ones all lasting until early (and not so early) morning. For those of you who don't know what your average Gay Pride looks like, check out these pictures taken of Brussels Gay Pride.
Tom, Chavdar and I left our apartment (Tom stayed over from the gathering we had the night before) with full intentions of seeing the parade, then Chavdar was meeting up with friends and Tom and I were going to work. Yeah... Well we left the apartment at 1pm, and Chavdar didn't get home until 3am, me 4-5am, and Tom 9am. Chavdar did go to meet up with friends, but rejoined Tom and I at the celebrations around 10pm. Tom and I on the other hand, ended up buying some cheap tops (to better fit in, obviously) and spending the day at the celebrations. It was amazing. We met soo many people and had so many wonderful drinks. The American Dutch girl from Oregon, her Dutch friend, the Nederlands hot very straight looking guy Lars, his Chinese friend, hot male bartender from Club who gave Tom his number, girls that tried to blow my hair out of the way to see my neck tattoo, guy I got in to an argument about appropriateness with that turned in to a nice conversation once he found out I was Canadian, random lesbian that led us very lost people to the afterparty we were looking for, and that is not including all the creepy straight men that tried hitting on me that day, and all the people we met at the club. Also not including the very drunk homeless guy fight that broke out during Betty, and slowly turned in to a dance they were so drunk.
But yes, by 10pm, once all the main festivities were over near Bourse, and the DJ started playing, Lars suggested we go to this lesbian party that his cousin (no idea) was going to. I declined, but Tom said yes. So off to the lesbian party we went. Chavdar was also joined us at 10, and said Why Not? to the lesbian party too. So we started our at least 1 hour adventure to the party. Why did it take us over an hour to get to a party that was minutes away? Well because the 2 drunk and high people and the out of towner were leading the way. Not one of them, as it turns out, actually knowing exactly where we were going. We finally ran in to this woman to ask directions, and turned out she was going there too! However, she was also drunk, and we got lost with her as well. We finally got to the club after 11. It was fantastic. Free cover in celebration of Pride, amazing club with a balcony upstairs with chairs and swings, all mostly used by people making out, DJ on the stage with hot nurse dancers on either side. And along with all gay clubs, the music was amazing. But this is where the story ends ;) Suffice to say that Chavdar and I lost the other very drunk people, had a blast dancing the night away, and met a lot of other fabulous people, Noëllie included, who ended up sleeping at my place and hanging out with us most of Sunday as she lives in Namur and the first train wasn't leaving until 7am.
With the complete and total freedom of expression and freedom to love, the amazing music and amazing people, that can even turn Brussels in to a fabulous party, I wish it was gay pride every day.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
God Save the Queen, and all that British business..
So here it is, finally, my update about London. What was I waiting for? Perspective? Pictures? Find out where the Royals are headed on their Honeymoon? Time. When I got back from London I had exactly one week and 18 hours to complete two essays, research and all. As my previous posts have mentioned, that is no easy feat. Not to mention no internet. As I still don't have, but at least now I have the time to go and find internet. Or the time to wait the hours it takes for our one free connection to load. Yes, and as my last post indicated, I was busy enjoying my freedom out in fresh air and beautiful sunny weather. However, this morning, as its cloudy, most likely going to rain, and I'm still waiting for the two boys to wake up, it feels like the perfect moment to get it out.
To sum up, London was amazing. As I already mentioned in my short post while waiting for Marlene at the train station, I love London. It is the perfect fusion of North American and European city and lifestyle, but with English, unlike Berlin. It is the city that made me want to come back and travel and live in Europe, and indeed still makes me want to go back and live there. As with last time I was there, I absolutely did not want to leave. And not just because of what was waiting for me in Brussels. The weather even held up and it didn't rain once the entire weekend.
As its already been a couple weeks, I'm not going to give you the blow by blow, but rather the highlights real. Marlene took about 10 000 pictures, so they can give the (excruciatingly) detailed rendition of our trip, if anyone wants it. Our first day there, Thursday, wasn't too terribly exciting. Just re-discovering the city, finding our way to Alison's place, only getting lost once or twice. Wandering the city, did a bit of shopping, got caught up as we hadn't seen each other since fall of last year, and planned out our weekend. We did run in to a very English fellow on the bus on the way to Alison's flat. He was like a character straight out of a movie. Very old timey English hat, jacket and trousers, completely toothless save for one or two scragglers, and looked to be at least 70. He was incredibly friendly and helpful, telling us where we had to get off, and pointing out landmarks along the way. However, true to character, we couldn't understand one word he said. It was all in such a strong stereotypical English jibberish, that all I caught was "babble babble babble bridge!". Lol. It was like the movie Eurotrip when they're on the double decker bus with the football team.
That evening was also very relaxing. We had quite literally, the best cappuccino and ham and cheese croissant of our lives at this café in Soho with Alison, before Marlene and I headed to the St. Martin's Theatre (that I got a backstage tour of last time I was in London) for Agatha Christie's Mousetrap. One of the historical theatres in London. We were sitting on the top balcony, which was fine, excellent view, except for the fact it was all very old, and very slanted forward. You had a constant feeling of falling forward, which was lovely because we were on the 2nd balcony. So especially for me, who is not the most comfortable with heights, it was extra lovely. The play was great though. Not quite the twist I expected, but I guess for its time it would have been mind-blowing. haha. Afterwards we had a nice supper with some drinks at a random restaurant in the area with a few friends of mine from Canada that were also visiting London. Very relaxing day. Warming up for the rest of the weekend.
The next morning, as Alison had to work (casting for a commercial) in the late morning/early afternoon, Marlene and I let her sleep, got ready, and went to have breakfast at a café in the main district near her place. It really suited us just fine being left to wander alone as, as much as I love Alison, she takes an absolute eternity to get ready and go anywhere. And as much as the day before was relaxing, I was a little disappointed with how little we were able to see and do, considering we only had one weekend there. So we wanted to get a ton accomplished Friday, so after breakfast, we set out to Tower Hill (total opposite side of the city) to see the Tower of London and the Crown Jewels that are guarded inside.
We arrived just in time to get a free guided tour by one of the Yeoman, who I didn't realize was not just a tour guide in a costume, but is actually still a Yeoman, one of the most prestigious guards in all of the Kingdom. It was incredible being in a castle and fortress that parts of it were close to a millenium old. Being in the epicentre of the Great British Empire. Did you know, that up until the late 19th century, all the coins for the ENTIRE British Empire were made within those walls? That's including Canada! After the tour we wandered through a few of the buildings and towers, and went to see the Crown Jewels, that as I learned, do not belong the the Queen, but rather to the people, and are the symbol of the Royalty and Prestige of the Empire. I have to say, as a French Canadian that typically hates the Queen, I felt proud to be a member of the Commonwealth. That's right, I said it. In those moments, and for the rest of the day, as it was the day of the Royal Wedding, I understood why Canada is still part of the Commonwealth, why we still have the Queen as a symbol, and why our official head of state is still the Governor General rather than updating it to be the Prime Minister. It all came together.. Oh, and plus, regarding the Crown Jewels, I got to see the biggest diamond in the world which is on the top of the Royal Scepter, the size of my fist.
After the Tower, we wandered along the bank for a while along the historic roads, crossed one of the bridges, and wandered along the South Bank all the way to Embankment and the London Eye. We came across so many wonderful things. Notably, this market that is half hidden within old buildings and areas, and winds for a few blocks out of sight. AMAZING. I actually think that at one point while we were wandering through there, a Sangria in one hand and the best chocolate cinnamon covered almonds of my life in the other, having just seen all the prestige and history that is the Tower earlier, but now faced with the modern, vibrant, cultural parts of London, it was one of the happiest moments of my life. Not even joking. It was at that moment I vowed to one day live in London.
So we kept wandering through the market along the bank, wandered through some wonderfully weird booths, boutiques and stores that we came across, sat and rested for a moment under a tree in front of the Tate modern (which I very sadly did not have time to visit), before continuing to wander the pier of embankment. At this point we really got in to the crowd that was there and obviously all over London, celebrating the Royal Wedding. There were mimes, amazing African dancers, comedians, BMX and skateboarders off in the corner under the structures, television and newscasters, and hundreds of thousands of people decked out in the Union Jack. Here we met up with Alison and crossed the bridge to show Marlene Parliament, Big Ben, and the Westminster Abbey. As I had not planned to be in London the day of the Wedding, we tried our best to avoid everything wedding related and the crowds that went with it. So we figured that at this late in the day, we should be able to make it to the Abbey without getting trampled in the crowds. From here we continued walking up to Trafalgar square, in the middle of the road laced with Union Jacks, as it was still closed from the celebrations and Royal Route earlier in the day.
From here we continued walking (yes, more walking. I think we figured out that we literally had walked for over 8 hours straight), to the famous parks to show them to Marlene, and grab a hot dog from a stand. We figured that since we were close to Buckingham palace (and again, figured everything would be over), we might as well go over and show her that too. Well we got there, and there was still a huge crowd. Obviously much smaller than earlier in the day, but still quite large. There was also still various news stations in their fancy booths, and junk (tents, sleeping bags, wine and alcohol bottles, food wrappers) absolutely everywhere from people camping out to be first there to see the Royals. Well we got close enough to the crows and stood behind this metal barrier to let Marlene stand on it to get a picture of the palace. As we were doing this, the Police pushed the huge crowd back behind the very barriers we were standing at, that were previously empty, to leave the drive totally clear for the Royals that were apparently returning home from some banquet. So we ended up being front row against these barriers to see the Royals' cars (not themselves, but rather their cars with a hand waiving, as the windows are so tinted you can't see anything) drive past right in front of us. The guy next to us was complaining that he had been here all bloody day thanks to his girlfriend, and was hoping that after this they could go home, and we ended up seeing it by accident.
After all of this, Marlene and I were completely exhausted and wanted to just sit and relax for a bit. However, Alison had planned this night at "the poshest club in London" with her friends. Going out with Alison and her friends means front of the line with the fancy bouncer opening the red velvet rope for you, one of the best tables in the house, totally free, with free cocktails all night, and absolutely gorgeous wealthy men vying for your attention at the table. Needless to say, not my scene. lol. I've experienced it many times before, and honestly, I would rather be sitting on a curb with a bottle of Arbor mist and some good friends, than being in a fancy club, with fancy Champagne and shallow strangers. It's my rural SK roots coming out. So I declined the evening, and spent a lovely relaxing evening at home, reading the Souvenir Royal Wedding Newspaper, watching an episode or two on Alison's crappy laptop, and going to bed, while Marlene and Alison went out. It was a near-perfect day.
I know I promised the highlights real and not blow by blow, but believe me, that was. A detailed rendition of everything that we saw, experienced, and that happened Friday would take ages. Saturday was not as eventful. Same thing, Alison had to work, which again suited us fine, so we got up early, went to breakfast again, and set out on the City. We first went to Portobello Road Market, which is this absolutely HUGE road market that spans for an entire neighbourhood, and would take you a full 8 hour day just to get through it. And even then you might not make it. It has everything from Antiques, jewellery, fruits and veggies, meats and cheeses, clothes, cars, etc. Everything. I ended up getting a petticoat, a few books, and some heels, all for 30 pounds. However, since the market is so huge, by the time we finally left it was already 2 in the afternoon. So from there we headed to the City (centre), and I wandered through Soho, past Piccadilly Circus, to Covent Gardens going in all kinds of little shops, sitting at fabulous cafés drinking the best chai lattes I've had, and watching street performers. When we headed home, Alison cooked some platanes and we got ready to go out on the town. Now this is where the excitement of Saturday starts.
Alison and I decided on this certain club to go to, so we thought we'd just head to a random lounge/bar in Soho before. True to form, by the time the three of us *cough*Alison and Marlene*, finally got ready, and by the time we finally got there, I felt like I had aged. So we go in to this random lounge, and Alison isn't sure she wants to stay there, so she goes to the bar to look at the menu. I, by this point, bored and tired, just want to get a drink and start enjoying the evening. This guy catches me yawning, and comes over to bug me about it. At one point, he elbows Marlene and tries to include her in the razzing, and Alison and I use that to sneak away downstairs, feeding Marlene to the wolves. Haha. But, downstairs was dull too, so we had to come back up. By the time we got back, Marlene was shooting us a half murderous look, and her and the guy were doing a shot together. The guy says "What were you girls trying to sneak off?? Come have a drink with us! What are you drinking? *looks at our empty hands**to the bartender*Three Red Passions, to my table!" Marlene and Alison look at me for approval on what to do, I decided that I guess we can stay for one drink.....
Well we follow the guy to his table, and find 2 other girls, a guy, and the guys' friend there. Turns out the 2 girls an guy had also randomly been brought to the group earlier in the night. I ended up having a great conversation with the 2 girls, Nadia and fuck why am I so bad with names. Nevertheless, they were Swedish, but had lived in London forever, and had a North American parent each. Great girls, we ended up having so much fun the rest of the night together. Yes, we ended up spending the rest of the night together. But back to the table. We sat down and our drinks were waiting for us. We all started talking, laughing, etc. And the first guy who brought us there, kept having another drink waiting for us even before the first was finished. Then there were rounds of delicious shots that came, the who could drink sexier competition, which I won btw, and more random people. Finally, hours later, Alison nudges me and says its time to go to the club, she wants to go dancing. I agree, so I tell the guy that we want to go dancing, so we're going to head off. Course at this point, Marlene has found another latina, and they are off somewhere else in the bar talking, like they do when they find each other. lol. This give the guy time to come up with a plan, and announces that they are also going dancing, at this club right near by, we should come with. Before we have time to find Marlene and decide what we should do, we are being led through the back door, down some very fancy back alley, and through this door with no sign and only a bouncer in a suit standing at the door. They exchange some handshake and words, and we all proceed through the door downstairs to this fairly small, but very elegant and packed club with white floors walls and ceiling, fish tanks in the walls, flashy disco and fancy lights everywhere, and DJ blasting beats. The guy walks up to one of the waitresses, and announces that he'd like a table for roughly 15 people. The nervous waitress gives a quick glance around the packed bar, and says she'll see what she can do. Within less than 10 minutes we have a very nice corner area, for 15 people, with a big bucket of 3 different bottles of wine, a few bottles of liquor, and 15 glasses in a fancy triangle waiting for us. I spent the rest of the night dancing with Alison and girls name who I can't remember, Nadine?, outside with Nadia helping her screw around with these guys who invited us to the most exclusive after party club in London, which is apparently by invite only (we didn't end up going, as there were guys in the group, and for them it would have been 500 quid each, just to get in the door), and thoroughly enjoying the night. I later found out that to get a table at that club we were at is a minimum of 500 pounds. After this, we went with the girls and the guy, who girls and guy were engaged and had this fabulous home basically in the suburbs of London, back to their place for some Champagne, snacks, and Xbox with the kinetic camera. By the time alllll of this was over, we started our adventure to get back home at 6:30 in the morning, Alison having left the club around 3, as she worked in the morning again, and Marlene having been falling asleep since 3:30-4ish. I think between the taxi with two guys that were at their house, stopping at their place to chat, walking to the bus from there, taking the bus to a place I recognized, which ended up being the station we came in at, then taking the metro to near her place, THEN taking the bus to her flat, it ended being around 8:30 by the time we got home. Needless to say, we quickly got ready for bed and passed out until noon-1am ish.
When we woke up the next morning, or rather, later in the day, Alison was gone to another audition, so we took our time packing our bags and getting ready and slowly wandered out to the main district near her place to have some brunch. We found this make-your-own burger place and had these absolutely huge and amazing burgers, the best I've had since leaving Canada by far, with good service! (That was also a first since being in Belgium). After this we slowly made our way up to near the station, and went to meet Alison and have one last Starbucks before heading back to goodcoffeeless Belgium. While in the neighbourhood we also wandered this fantastic Alternative bookstore, where after 5 minutes and one shelf I had already bought two books. We then said our goodbyes to Alison to make our way to the Eurostar check in, as she tried to convince me to come visit very soon, or/and to move to London in the fall. Yeah, like I needed any convincing.
To sum up, London was amazing. As I already mentioned in my short post while waiting for Marlene at the train station, I love London. It is the perfect fusion of North American and European city and lifestyle, but with English, unlike Berlin. It is the city that made me want to come back and travel and live in Europe, and indeed still makes me want to go back and live there. As with last time I was there, I absolutely did not want to leave. And not just because of what was waiting for me in Brussels. The weather even held up and it didn't rain once the entire weekend.
As its already been a couple weeks, I'm not going to give you the blow by blow, but rather the highlights real. Marlene took about 10 000 pictures, so they can give the (excruciatingly) detailed rendition of our trip, if anyone wants it. Our first day there, Thursday, wasn't too terribly exciting. Just re-discovering the city, finding our way to Alison's place, only getting lost once or twice. Wandering the city, did a bit of shopping, got caught up as we hadn't seen each other since fall of last year, and planned out our weekend. We did run in to a very English fellow on the bus on the way to Alison's flat. He was like a character straight out of a movie. Very old timey English hat, jacket and trousers, completely toothless save for one or two scragglers, and looked to be at least 70. He was incredibly friendly and helpful, telling us where we had to get off, and pointing out landmarks along the way. However, true to character, we couldn't understand one word he said. It was all in such a strong stereotypical English jibberish, that all I caught was "babble babble babble bridge!". Lol. It was like the movie Eurotrip when they're on the double decker bus with the football team.
That evening was also very relaxing. We had quite literally, the best cappuccino and ham and cheese croissant of our lives at this café in Soho with Alison, before Marlene and I headed to the St. Martin's Theatre (that I got a backstage tour of last time I was in London) for Agatha Christie's Mousetrap. One of the historical theatres in London. We were sitting on the top balcony, which was fine, excellent view, except for the fact it was all very old, and very slanted forward. You had a constant feeling of falling forward, which was lovely because we were on the 2nd balcony. So especially for me, who is not the most comfortable with heights, it was extra lovely. The play was great though. Not quite the twist I expected, but I guess for its time it would have been mind-blowing. haha. Afterwards we had a nice supper with some drinks at a random restaurant in the area with a few friends of mine from Canada that were also visiting London. Very relaxing day. Warming up for the rest of the weekend.
The next morning, as Alison had to work (casting for a commercial) in the late morning/early afternoon, Marlene and I let her sleep, got ready, and went to have breakfast at a café in the main district near her place. It really suited us just fine being left to wander alone as, as much as I love Alison, she takes an absolute eternity to get ready and go anywhere. And as much as the day before was relaxing, I was a little disappointed with how little we were able to see and do, considering we only had one weekend there. So we wanted to get a ton accomplished Friday, so after breakfast, we set out to Tower Hill (total opposite side of the city) to see the Tower of London and the Crown Jewels that are guarded inside.
We arrived just in time to get a free guided tour by one of the Yeoman, who I didn't realize was not just a tour guide in a costume, but is actually still a Yeoman, one of the most prestigious guards in all of the Kingdom. It was incredible being in a castle and fortress that parts of it were close to a millenium old. Being in the epicentre of the Great British Empire. Did you know, that up until the late 19th century, all the coins for the ENTIRE British Empire were made within those walls? That's including Canada! After the tour we wandered through a few of the buildings and towers, and went to see the Crown Jewels, that as I learned, do not belong the the Queen, but rather to the people, and are the symbol of the Royalty and Prestige of the Empire. I have to say, as a French Canadian that typically hates the Queen, I felt proud to be a member of the Commonwealth. That's right, I said it. In those moments, and for the rest of the day, as it was the day of the Royal Wedding, I understood why Canada is still part of the Commonwealth, why we still have the Queen as a symbol, and why our official head of state is still the Governor General rather than updating it to be the Prime Minister. It all came together.. Oh, and plus, regarding the Crown Jewels, I got to see the biggest diamond in the world which is on the top of the Royal Scepter, the size of my fist.
After the Tower, we wandered along the bank for a while along the historic roads, crossed one of the bridges, and wandered along the South Bank all the way to Embankment and the London Eye. We came across so many wonderful things. Notably, this market that is half hidden within old buildings and areas, and winds for a few blocks out of sight. AMAZING. I actually think that at one point while we were wandering through there, a Sangria in one hand and the best chocolate cinnamon covered almonds of my life in the other, having just seen all the prestige and history that is the Tower earlier, but now faced with the modern, vibrant, cultural parts of London, it was one of the happiest moments of my life. Not even joking. It was at that moment I vowed to one day live in London.
So we kept wandering through the market along the bank, wandered through some wonderfully weird booths, boutiques and stores that we came across, sat and rested for a moment under a tree in front of the Tate modern (which I very sadly did not have time to visit), before continuing to wander the pier of embankment. At this point we really got in to the crowd that was there and obviously all over London, celebrating the Royal Wedding. There were mimes, amazing African dancers, comedians, BMX and skateboarders off in the corner under the structures, television and newscasters, and hundreds of thousands of people decked out in the Union Jack. Here we met up with Alison and crossed the bridge to show Marlene Parliament, Big Ben, and the Westminster Abbey. As I had not planned to be in London the day of the Wedding, we tried our best to avoid everything wedding related and the crowds that went with it. So we figured that at this late in the day, we should be able to make it to the Abbey without getting trampled in the crowds. From here we continued walking up to Trafalgar square, in the middle of the road laced with Union Jacks, as it was still closed from the celebrations and Royal Route earlier in the day.
From here we continued walking (yes, more walking. I think we figured out that we literally had walked for over 8 hours straight), to the famous parks to show them to Marlene, and grab a hot dog from a stand. We figured that since we were close to Buckingham palace (and again, figured everything would be over), we might as well go over and show her that too. Well we got there, and there was still a huge crowd. Obviously much smaller than earlier in the day, but still quite large. There was also still various news stations in their fancy booths, and junk (tents, sleeping bags, wine and alcohol bottles, food wrappers) absolutely everywhere from people camping out to be first there to see the Royals. Well we got close enough to the crows and stood behind this metal barrier to let Marlene stand on it to get a picture of the palace. As we were doing this, the Police pushed the huge crowd back behind the very barriers we were standing at, that were previously empty, to leave the drive totally clear for the Royals that were apparently returning home from some banquet. So we ended up being front row against these barriers to see the Royals' cars (not themselves, but rather their cars with a hand waiving, as the windows are so tinted you can't see anything) drive past right in front of us. The guy next to us was complaining that he had been here all bloody day thanks to his girlfriend, and was hoping that after this they could go home, and we ended up seeing it by accident.
After all of this, Marlene and I were completely exhausted and wanted to just sit and relax for a bit. However, Alison had planned this night at "the poshest club in London" with her friends. Going out with Alison and her friends means front of the line with the fancy bouncer opening the red velvet rope for you, one of the best tables in the house, totally free, with free cocktails all night, and absolutely gorgeous wealthy men vying for your attention at the table. Needless to say, not my scene. lol. I've experienced it many times before, and honestly, I would rather be sitting on a curb with a bottle of Arbor mist and some good friends, than being in a fancy club, with fancy Champagne and shallow strangers. It's my rural SK roots coming out. So I declined the evening, and spent a lovely relaxing evening at home, reading the Souvenir Royal Wedding Newspaper, watching an episode or two on Alison's crappy laptop, and going to bed, while Marlene and Alison went out. It was a near-perfect day.
I know I promised the highlights real and not blow by blow, but believe me, that was. A detailed rendition of everything that we saw, experienced, and that happened Friday would take ages. Saturday was not as eventful. Same thing, Alison had to work, which again suited us fine, so we got up early, went to breakfast again, and set out on the City. We first went to Portobello Road Market, which is this absolutely HUGE road market that spans for an entire neighbourhood, and would take you a full 8 hour day just to get through it. And even then you might not make it. It has everything from Antiques, jewellery, fruits and veggies, meats and cheeses, clothes, cars, etc. Everything. I ended up getting a petticoat, a few books, and some heels, all for 30 pounds. However, since the market is so huge, by the time we finally left it was already 2 in the afternoon. So from there we headed to the City (centre), and I wandered through Soho, past Piccadilly Circus, to Covent Gardens going in all kinds of little shops, sitting at fabulous cafés drinking the best chai lattes I've had, and watching street performers. When we headed home, Alison cooked some platanes and we got ready to go out on the town. Now this is where the excitement of Saturday starts.
Alison and I decided on this certain club to go to, so we thought we'd just head to a random lounge/bar in Soho before. True to form, by the time the three of us *cough*Alison and Marlene*, finally got ready, and by the time we finally got there, I felt like I had aged. So we go in to this random lounge, and Alison isn't sure she wants to stay there, so she goes to the bar to look at the menu. I, by this point, bored and tired, just want to get a drink and start enjoying the evening. This guy catches me yawning, and comes over to bug me about it. At one point, he elbows Marlene and tries to include her in the razzing, and Alison and I use that to sneak away downstairs, feeding Marlene to the wolves. Haha. But, downstairs was dull too, so we had to come back up. By the time we got back, Marlene was shooting us a half murderous look, and her and the guy were doing a shot together. The guy says "What were you girls trying to sneak off?? Come have a drink with us! What are you drinking? *looks at our empty hands**to the bartender*Three Red Passions, to my table!" Marlene and Alison look at me for approval on what to do, I decided that I guess we can stay for one drink.....
Well we follow the guy to his table, and find 2 other girls, a guy, and the guys' friend there. Turns out the 2 girls an guy had also randomly been brought to the group earlier in the night. I ended up having a great conversation with the 2 girls, Nadia and fuck why am I so bad with names. Nevertheless, they were Swedish, but had lived in London forever, and had a North American parent each. Great girls, we ended up having so much fun the rest of the night together. Yes, we ended up spending the rest of the night together. But back to the table. We sat down and our drinks were waiting for us. We all started talking, laughing, etc. And the first guy who brought us there, kept having another drink waiting for us even before the first was finished. Then there were rounds of delicious shots that came, the who could drink sexier competition, which I won btw, and more random people. Finally, hours later, Alison nudges me and says its time to go to the club, she wants to go dancing. I agree, so I tell the guy that we want to go dancing, so we're going to head off. Course at this point, Marlene has found another latina, and they are off somewhere else in the bar talking, like they do when they find each other. lol. This give the guy time to come up with a plan, and announces that they are also going dancing, at this club right near by, we should come with. Before we have time to find Marlene and decide what we should do, we are being led through the back door, down some very fancy back alley, and through this door with no sign and only a bouncer in a suit standing at the door. They exchange some handshake and words, and we all proceed through the door downstairs to this fairly small, but very elegant and packed club with white floors walls and ceiling, fish tanks in the walls, flashy disco and fancy lights everywhere, and DJ blasting beats. The guy walks up to one of the waitresses, and announces that he'd like a table for roughly 15 people. The nervous waitress gives a quick glance around the packed bar, and says she'll see what she can do. Within less than 10 minutes we have a very nice corner area, for 15 people, with a big bucket of 3 different bottles of wine, a few bottles of liquor, and 15 glasses in a fancy triangle waiting for us. I spent the rest of the night dancing with Alison and girls name who I can't remember, Nadine?, outside with Nadia helping her screw around with these guys who invited us to the most exclusive after party club in London, which is apparently by invite only (we didn't end up going, as there were guys in the group, and for them it would have been 500 quid each, just to get in the door), and thoroughly enjoying the night. I later found out that to get a table at that club we were at is a minimum of 500 pounds. After this, we went with the girls and the guy, who girls and guy were engaged and had this fabulous home basically in the suburbs of London, back to their place for some Champagne, snacks, and Xbox with the kinetic camera. By the time alllll of this was over, we started our adventure to get back home at 6:30 in the morning, Alison having left the club around 3, as she worked in the morning again, and Marlene having been falling asleep since 3:30-4ish. I think between the taxi with two guys that were at their house, stopping at their place to chat, walking to the bus from there, taking the bus to a place I recognized, which ended up being the station we came in at, then taking the metro to near her place, THEN taking the bus to her flat, it ended being around 8:30 by the time we got home. Needless to say, we quickly got ready for bed and passed out until noon-1am ish.
When we woke up the next morning, or rather, later in the day, Alison was gone to another audition, so we took our time packing our bags and getting ready and slowly wandered out to the main district near her place to have some brunch. We found this make-your-own burger place and had these absolutely huge and amazing burgers, the best I've had since leaving Canada by far, with good service! (That was also a first since being in Belgium). After this we slowly made our way up to near the station, and went to meet Alison and have one last Starbucks before heading back to goodcoffeeless Belgium. While in the neighbourhood we also wandered this fantastic Alternative bookstore, where after 5 minutes and one shelf I had already bought two books. We then said our goodbyes to Alison to make our way to the Eurostar check in, as she tried to convince me to come visit very soon, or/and to move to London in the fall. Yeah, like I needed any convincing.
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