Ramadan on Nagin Lake

Fast email is pretty slow here in Northern India. Actually, everything is except the driving. But it's not as frantic up here as it is in Delhi and I am so glad to have the break from the car horns and traffic.

I am staying in a houseboat on Nagin Lake, which is just outside of the city of Srinigar, in a valley of the Himalayas. My host family, the Dandoos, are wonderful, peaceful people whose attitude is to take what they need and share the rest around. In the high pressure commercial world of India, this attitude doesn't serve them very well.

But it does serve them and the planet well in terms of peace and harmony in the world. The Dandoos are the family of my friend Nazir in Vancouver, which is how I came to be here. The houseboat I am staying in is called "Silver Bell" and the Dandoo family has had houseboats here for generations. Times are tough in the torism business here and it is very hard for them to make ends meet while they wait for the good times to return. Their guest books include wonderful notes from all over the planet, and very well deserved.

You will hear all about it when I get back .. this is just a brief snapshot.

One of the most amazing things about Nagin Lake is the Ramadan prayers ... there are no less than 20 prayer locations all around the small lake and when it is prayer time (4:30 am; 11:00, 4:00, and the big prayer at 8:00) the sound is amazing. (There is one more prayer time too but I have forgotten what it is).

I am doing well .. I think I said before I am not an easy traveller, but I do think it's important to do. This trip is less about pleasure, and mostly about education. And believe me, I am already seeing the world in different ways than I had even two weeks ago. The poverty is staggering. The need to redistribute wealth in this world is so, so important.

One thing I forgot to tell you about .. when I was in Kathmandu, I met two people who finally (after 5 years in applications), got their visa to move to Canada. They were 18 and 15, and I started to feel very motherly thinking that they were moving there by themselves. Finally, someone reassured me that, no, their parents are coming too.

It was fun to talk to them. They were so excited. One of their biggest questions was "do I need to know how to speak French?" They are moving to Mississauga or Brampton, so I reassured them, no, they don't. (Note to my sister Marianne -- the 15 year old is nervous about school .. I told her you worked for the Peel Board where she will be going to school and you can talk to her to help her settle in. They are leaving on October 15th). Their other questions were "are clothes cheap?", "what about CD's" and they were amazed to find out you can still buy a VCR in Canada .. those are long gone in Nepal.

People are people everywhere.

So, I am off to Jammu tomorrow to catch a train to Hardiwar, which is closer to Delhi and a good yoga/meditation place. This is more of an R&R trip .. I am going to stop trying to learn quite so much for a bit. "Try Easier", as many people have told me many times.

PS -- The men over here are something else. Let's just leave it at that for now ...

Back in Delhi

(apologies if this repeats anything from my previous post)

I am back on the subcontinent. Delhi feels like New York City after Kathmandu. Tomorrow I am heading to Kashmir to stay in my friend's parents houseboat in Srinigar and work on a story about the challenges of making a living with tourism in a conflict zone.

After that I am heading to Rishikesh to hang out in an ashram to do yoga
for a couple of days. I will be coming back to Delhi on October 9th.

I am fine and starting to acclimatize. I had a hard time eating for a
whle because I was feeling jangly and out of place but now I am getting used to it. I really am having a good time. And I have started to write my first book, based on my travels and other travels in the past five years. It will be called "Tea with Shiva -- Encounters with the Creator/Destroyer". Shiva is the Hindu God who mows down everything so that creation can begin anew. Fierce rebirth (Barry -- Ganesh, who sits on your shelf, is Shiva's happy son. Didn't start out happy -- he has an elephant head because somebody cut off his human one. But he's a god of abundance, prosperity and overcoming obstacles now, so all has worked out well. I've been seeing Ganesh all over the place here too)

I will be leaving Delhi to go south on October 11th. Here is my itinerary
and I will sent you contact info:

October 11 - to Bangalore. I will be meeting with Indu Ramesh of the
International Assocation for Women in Radio and TV.
October 14th - to Mangalore to meet with Gururaja Budhya, who came to see
Barry and I in Hamilton a couple of years ago.
October 19th -- heading down to Trivandrum -- Barry, if you are talking to
Vinod, could you please tell him I want to see him when I am there. I will send him an email but if you're talking to him anyway, please tell him I haven't forgotten him. I will be flying from Trivandrum to Colombo (Sri Lanka) on October 25th, and returning home to Canada on November 10th.

It really is a fabulous trip. At times (many!) times I feel like a fish out of water
but I think it's necessary to feel this way to grow as a human being. I am finally
relaxing. People are taking care of me, I have not spent one night in a hotel and other than plane tickets, I have only spent $100 bucks so far.

I am glad I did this.

Not sure how internet access in Kashmir is going to be, so if you don't hear much from me in the next week, don't worry.

Love
Victoria

Happy Dasain!

Yesterday was the beginning of Dasain, the most significant holiday of the Nepali year. Faruq set me up with an appointment to visit South Asia Partnership Nepal yesterday morning. I was surprised when we got there and thirty people were all sitting cross-legged on the floor waiting for .. something .. to begin. I couldn't tell what.

Then someone came around with a big plate of bright scarlet paste and yellow flower petals. Everyone (including me) dipped their finger in the paste and then touched their forehead with their fingers, creating a round red circle between the eyes. The flower petals were sprinkled on our heads. The round circle, I have been told, is a tika. Need to find out more about that.

Then plates were passed out and servants starting dishing out food .. a type of dish made from legumes, fried ginger (yum!), water buffalo (tasty but very chewy), bamboo soup and a whole bunch of other things. It was really great.

The festival of Dasain is a festival to honour the goddess Durga. Durga is the partner/consort/wife of Shiva, the Creator/Destroyer. During Dasain, all the monsters and evil spirits are chased away by Durga. Keeping all the lineages of the gods and goddesses here is difficult. Especially since there are more than three million of them!

Dasain continues for another nine days. I will be leaving tomorrow (Sunday) afternoon to go back to Delhi and then up to Srinigar for five days. I am really happy with how the trip is going. Most of the time I am feeling very comfortable. Every now and again I do a doubletake and ask "WHERE am I???!!" but then I just get back to my writing. Staying focussed on the work at hand is a good way through this.

And by the way, I am finally starting my first book.

PS -- for those of you who are asking for my pictures, I'm afraid it will have to wait. Uploading is proving to be a pain, so I will just keep taking them and add them to the blog likely when I get home.

Visit to the Old City

Ah Kathmandu .. I like this place. Had a great day yesterday meeting with some of Faruq's friends who work in journalism training here in Nepal. There are many things we can learn from these people.

And I also talked to another friend of his about people who have to leave Nepal to find work abroad, and some of the challenges that they face. I learned a whole lot about how families work over here, and the roles of men and the roles of women. Which are very well defined.

One of the things that is awkward for me is how to answer the question "are you married". And then I say "my marriage is ended", then they ask "do you have children" and they look at me expectantly as if to say "why not?" Then they develop this look as if to say "you poor thing". Makes me realize that the "childless by choice" concept is pretty unique to the Western world. Reminds me of a story another former Canadian friend told me about .. he was travelling in Central America and the question of his not having children came up (this was an exchange between two men). When my former friend replied no, he was asked "are you an egotist?". He was, and is, but that's another story.

Had my first experience buying lunch for myself yesterday and it was quite an adventure. Faruq was off to a meeting so I hung out in an area called Patan City (which is so close to Kathmandu that it's almost part of Kathmandu. A lot of organizations in the development sector live there). It's a very, very old city with all kinds of temples and palaces and street vendors who are selling their wares.

I went into a nice little cafe called "The Third World Cafe" and had a lovely bowl of carrot soup while listening to the temple bells (which I recorded). I got up to pay and handed them 500 Indian Rupees, which I was told is acceptable currency in Nepal. Not at this place. So the cafe owner, who spoke very little English, took me, who speaks no Nepali, door to door until we found a money changer that would change the money. A lesson learned ... don't always believe what you're told.

This afternoon I am catching up on emails. Faruq's computer is on Ottawa time and the time reads 4:56 am. So you're not even up yet. The time is easy to figure from here. Just add 14 hours -- change 4:56 am to 4:56 pm and subtract 2 hours and voila, it's 2:57 here.

I'll try to upload some pictures.

Morning in Kathmandu

The View from my Window

The Small But Vital Reporter* has landed!

What a trip. So much to say that it's all I can say ... trippy in many senses of the word. left Thursday from Vancouver, landed in Delhi at 2:30 in the morning, was met by the brother of my friend Nazir who took me to their place to sleep. Got to bed at 4 am and didn't wake up again until 12:30 pm. Despite being in a very busy household where there was a lot going on around me. Their hospitality has been outstanding .. after I got up, I suggested that it might be time to find a hotel, to which they replied "no friend of Nazir's is going to be staying in a hotel. You must stay here". It's a two bedroom flat so it's not like there's a lot of room. Nonetheless, they gave me the king sized bed all to myself.

So I have been staying there, enjoying the wonderful food (and learning to eat with my hands .. they offered me a fork but I decided to do it the way the rest of the family does it). Supper is on a cloth on the floor and we sit around the cloth cross-legged. It has also been an enlightening cultural experience because I got to observe the first day of Ramadan with them. They didn't expect me to get up for 5:30 prayers, and they offered me food throughout the day despite the household Ramadan practice which is no food until sundown. Wonderful and gracious hosts, and I am so grateful to Nazir and his family for their outstanding hospitality (they also own a travel agency so have been helping me organize plane tickets and itineraries and such.

They also insisted (and rightly so) that I needed to visit the Taj Mahal. I got a
picture of myself sitting on the bench made famous by Princess Diana (huge lineup for bench space .. I don't think anybody thought much about sitting on it before she did).

We went to Agra (where the Taj is) by car and I am SO SO SO glad I was not the one doing the driving. From what people have told me about India, I think the traffic patterns are an appropriate metaphor for Indian life. Picture this ... cars, bicycles, camels, horses, people pushing carts of vegetables and anything else with wheels you can imagine. And cows. Lots and lots and lots of cows. Even though the roadway looks like our four lane highways, with a centre line and divider in the middle. But people don't drive in the lines. They're all over the road. And they don't use turn signals. Ever. They use their horns. All the time. Loudly. And every now and again, somebody would turn around and drive the other way. Like, we're talking large trucks coming straight at you fast. Whoa.

And now, here I am in Kathmandu visiting my friend Faruq who I've known for about ten years from Ottawa. I arrived by Cosmic Air. Cosmic, huh? Faruq is a development worker here in Nepal. This morning I woke up pretty early to the sound of cows ... I asked Faruq about this because I didn't think Kathmandu had the cattle population that Delhi has, but he tells me that Kathmandu is Hindu as well. So yes, there are cows.

The things I am learning range from the sublime to the truly heartbreaking. This
morning Faruq and I went to a little tea shop which he goes to often. Faruq lives in palatial quarters behind fancy iron gates (he isn't the kind of guy who looks for places like this, but he just happened to luck into a good deal). The streets are paved, the gardens are beautiful ... you walk outside the gates and it's another place entirely. little shops, some made of corrugated tin with no front walls or doors. People trying to make a living the best they can and not succeeding very well. Mud on the streets, muddy mangy dogs. But the people are really beautiful. One of the things that amazes me is that, even in the poorest areas, the women are beautifully, colourfully dressed in stunning saris and two piece suits and scarves (can't remember what they're called). And the smiles ...

This morning Faruq introduced me to one of the shopkeepers he has developed a close
relationship with. She is a young woman with a six year old daughter and another baby on the way. She opens her little open-air restaurant at 6 am and doesn't close until 9 pm. She works very hard and a lot of money goes to send her daughter to school.

We sat and talked to her while she served us tea (Faruq speaks Nepali, as well as Hindi, Urdu, French and English .. he's very handy to have around). One of her friends came over with her beautiful little 5 year old daughter and she asked Faruq "If I can get a passport, will your friend take her to live with her in Canada?" I thought she was kidding, but she repeated it three times, asking her daughter "do you want to go to Canada with your big sister?" So much said in that one question ... it is not a fabrication to say that many people are desperate for a better life for their children. If that means giving them up, some parents will do that. (I felt like adopting her little girl in a minute ...)

Friends who have been to this part of the world have told me that the poverty would be very difficult to look at. Another story -- When we went to the Taj on Sunday, one little girl followed me for half an hour trying to sell me a set of pens. It was hard to deal with because she was really obnoxious about it. When I got in the car she waited outside the window and stared at me as we drove off. It was tough. I was tired, I was hot and I needed to remind myself "she's only ten". The problem is, she's not likely working for herself. And paying them only keeps the cycle of slavery happening. She's also likely to get beat up by other children or adults if she is more successful than they are.

Oh, and another thing that's hard to get used to .. I was also warned about this by
friends. The Indian style of Commerce is something else. They say how much they want, you say "no, I only want to pay this much". They say "no, I can't sell it to you for that, how about this much" and you say, "no, I don't think so". They say no. You start walking away. Slowly as if to say "I'm walking. See, I really am" and just before you get out of earshot they say Okay.

Now, given the poverty of this country, I have a whole bunch of white liberal guilt
about haggling with them. But it's expected. My shopping trips have to be short
because I get too damn tired. Also, if someone says "do you want to pet my monkey?" the answer is no. I did and found out that it cost me a hundred rupees "Please ma'am, I am poor man ... 200 rupees, please ma'am you have money, I must feed family" Which is true. I have lots of money by their standards ... though I am not at all sure what to do about that in this context. Just giving them money doesn't help in the long run. I have the same difficulty with panhandlers at home. Think I'll do a story on solutions to the panhandling/begging issue. That much I can do and maybe in some small way it will make a bit of a difference.

So many stories. Lots of pictures too. Must update my blog, and I'll see if Faruq's computer will let me offload my camera. So those are some of the highlights so far and the trip is just beginning.

Write to me! Home seems like another planet and every voice from back home increases my comfort zone (it's been exciting but also uncomfortable being out of my element.

Over and out for now, thanks for reading and being there for me.

Love Victoria
* for those of you who don't know the "Small but Vital Reporter" reference -- the title comes from the long-running (now over) CBC Radio comedy show called "Double Exposure", in which there was a character called "Victoria Penner, Small But Vital Reporter". To this day, there are people who think it was me playing me. In reality, it was Linda Cullen, a Vancouver comedienne. I liked the character -- earnest, streetwise and stopped at nothing to get her story. I sometimes (often!) need her energy and drive!

The Taj

Queen Victoria on Princess Diana's bench


My hosts insisted (and rightly so) that I must not leave India before going to the Taj Mahal. Seeing that my trip is getting booked up, they hired a car and took me out to see it today. Pictures to be posted when I get to my friend Faruq's place.

It was a four hour drive to Agra, where the Taj is located. I got to see some of the countryside and the various people who live here. The roads are something else to behold ... they don't look any different than North American roads, white line in the middle, paved and all that. The difference is that roads in Canada and the US are not shared with camels and cows. And people drive in one lane instead of the middle. Here, they drive in one lane when it is convenient, and in the middle of the road when it's not. Occasionally you will even see a car or a truck, or a horse, turn around and drive straight towards you. Because they missed their turn, I guess. I am glad I am not driving anywhere here. It's bedlam.

The Taj Mahal is incredible. To think that it was built in the 1600's without any equipment except animal and people power. It is truly amazing. Got lots of good pictures.

I'm feeling a little tired .. I saw an awful lot today and it was rather noisy. Drivers don't use signal lights, they use car horns. I got great sounds of traffic so I will have to do something which focusses on traffic. No great stretch there ... transportation is a big issue everywhere in the world these days.

Tomorrow I am hooking up with a couple of people I need to interview in Delhi, and then I am on an 8:00 flight to Kathmandu. I will be there until next Monday, then back to Delhi.

Thanks to everybody who is leaving comments. Your emails help make me feel closer to home. I do get a little bit homesick at times.

Shanti, shanti ...

On Indian highways, You Share the road with everything ..


My new friend Manzoor introduced me to this concept this morning. "Shanti, shanti" means "slowly, slowly". He can sense my North American energy .. and he gave me some good advice. He says that nothing in India is organized. Which is what I have heard from many people already. The only way to do it is to go slowly and just let it happen (For those of you who think this is not possible for me to do, stop laughing!).

I arrived last night at the Delhi Airport and Mansur (a brother of a friend of mine from Vancouver) was there to meet me. I was very tired but also so overtired I was actually quite wired.

My first introduction to Delhi was in the dark. It is very busy at 3 am. We came back to his place, which he shares with family members. I went to bed a few minutes later .. somebody gave up their bed for me, which is so nice. I slept until 1:00 this afternoon then got up and have been visiting with them ever since.

I mentioned needing to find a hotel, to which they responded "why do you need to go to a hotel?" So I am staying here until tomorrow when I go to Kathmandu. At least I think I am going to Kathmandu. Plans don't always work the way they do in North America, I am finding out. Still firming up my itinerary so who knows where I will be tomorrow.

Regardless, I am safe, happy and comfortable and almost overwhelmed by the generous hospitality. We North Americans could learn something from this ...

Free Internet in Hong Kong!

Well, isn't this handy ... I have an hour or so to do something with and I just happened to find a public computer with free internet. Yee haw. Life is always grand with a high speed connection.

It was a lo-o-o-o-ng flight. Left Vancouver at 3:05 pm on Thursday and they tell me it's now Friday night. We crossed the dateline. So it's a new day. Except it never got dark ... I kept looking out of the window and it was still daytime until we touched down in Hong Kong. I finally figured it out .. what we were doing was going in the same direction as the sun. And never caught up with it until we got here.

Guess that means that I will be coming back in the dark .. leaving Colombo at 2:05 am and getting back the same day in Vancouver. So I'll get back the day that I missed.

I've decided just to lose track of time for a while so that my body and mind doesn't get confused. It's going to be confused enough when I land in Delhi. A friend of mine says that what she loves about India is that it turns you on your head. Considering I've already been on my head for most of this short century, maybe this experience will set me right side up again.

The flight was uneventful, which is what you want flights to be. The Hong Kong Airport is just like Pearson Airport with more Chinese food (and probably more authentic). It's not really eastern and not really western either.

Talk about sticker shock .. I just about fell over when I saw that a bottle of water costs $12. Until I realized that there are 7 Hong Kong dollars to one American dollar. I also checked out the personal electronics (of course). $2900 for a canon digital camera. Divide by 7, of course. But even that is pretty pricey. I'm not going to shop here.

I land in Delhi at 2 am. My friend's brother in law has offered to pick me up at the airport. Which is really, really nice of him because I'm going to be really, really tired.

Over and out for now. Keep in touch, everybody.

It's raining .. so time to go

Got the visa, got the plane ticket, the money, and tomorrow's the day... we've had sun all summer in Vancouver. Now it's getting cold and I've heard that it is somewhere around 36 Celcius in New Delhi. So I'm going to have summer all over again.

Wow, I don't know what to say. Everything's arranged that can be arranged from this side. The rest is all a big adventure.

I expect the next time I will get to update my blog will be in Kathmandu on Monday (which would be Sunday for all you in North America since I cross the dateline). But I may be able to post from the airport in Hong Kong. That is, if I'm not spending all my time lusting after all the cheap personal electronics that I've told are a bargain in Hong Kong.

Just about every hotel in India now has Internet access. And bank machines. My bank says I can access money from ATM's in major cities in India using my Canadian bank card. And I will be likely be getting a cell phone when I get there .. airtime and cell phones are quite cheap and very useful for getting around.

So, I leave tomorrow, fly direct to Hong Kong, stay for four hours or so, get on another plane and fly to Delhi. I arrive at, like, 2:05 AM. I was really nervous a bout that .. I have been told that landing at Indira Ghandi international airport in the middle of the night after too little sleep is like entering another dimension. So I am really, really happy that the brother in law of a friend is going to be meeting me at the airport and taking me back to his family's home to spend the night. I tell you, it is so wonderful to have friends (and friends of friends) to help out. It all makes everything go so much smoother.

I have some jitters, of course. And sometimes I even have mild (and not so mild) panic attacks. So this is really good. Builds up my resistance and toughens me up. To put things in perspective, I remind myself that there are many places in the world where I have travelled. Like major American cities, which I think are among some of the most dangerous places in the world.

Case in point. See the picture of me at the top of this post? I took it in the train station in Seattle. The same train station where I arrived last week, expecting to find my friend to meet me. She wasn't there, it was 10:30 pm and they were locking the station. I tried to call her, she wasn't home (despite my having left a message with her the night before and, I thought, confirming my visit), so I was left standing on a very dark curb in a city where you don't want to be standing on a curb in the middle of the night. So, though I felt a bit panicky (a lot, actually), I hopped a cab and went to sit in a hotel lobby while I made repeated phone calls to my friend. Who eventually picked up the phone and we all lived happily ever after.

Having never been there, I can't say that Delhi is going to be a harder place to negotiate than other places I've been, but the U.S. is no picnic and I've been all over the continent successfully. So I think I am up for this.

All for now, gotta fold the laundry, pack my backpack and do other things to occupy my time. More later.

Puppies!

Oh yes, I almost forgot to tell you. When I was visiting Jackie and Laurie at Thistledown farm last week, they were anxiously awaiting the arrival of somewhere between 8 and 10 brand new little collie puppies. Well, it happened on September 2nd .. Happy Labour Day to mama dog Dusty. Eleven puppies in all were born, and sadly, two of them didn't make it.

But the rest of them are doing just fine and will be ready to go to good homes in about six to eight weeks. Wish I could have one but Ursalla is still the top dog in my life!

The Haven

View from The Haven


We ended up going to Gabriola and staying at a place called "The Haven Institute". It is another retreat centre .. one of the things I wanted to do this summer was a visit a few of these places to see how they worked. I am quite serious about wanting to set up some kind of arts retreat centre in Bear River so I wanted to see a couple of different models.

Hollyhock and The Haven both spring from the same roots .. The Cold Mountain Institute which was the predecessor of Hollyhock on Cortes during the '70's. CM morphed into Hollyhock, and a couple of the other people involved created The Haven.

The two places have different orientations .. Hollyhock is more spiritual/artistic and perhaps less grounded than the Haven, which was started by a psychiatrist and a medical doctor with a psycho-social rather than a psycho-spiritual orientation. An example of the differences .. at Hollyhock when we were there, the seminar in session was empowerment through singing, and another one on Yoga. At the Haven, the visitors were a group of people who were trying to work their way through depression.

Both valuable and have their place, and were wonderful spaces to visit. I am surprised that there are very few places like this in Nova Scotia. My vision would be to come up with a blend of the two .. more arts stuff than the Haven but maybe more grounded than Hollyhock. Hard to explain in a few paragraphs what I mean by that .. still working it out myself.

Overall, the past ten days have been wonderful for sitting on the grass looking up at trees, feeling my toes in the warm sand, reading, and just being. I'm getting really good at this R&R stuff ...

It was another great time, and now I am back in Vancouver. I have a few days of work to do and then I head down to Seattle. My trip to India is not far off .. I have to get grounded again and start to work on my To Do list. Today is my final travel-related shot (for Japanese Encephalitis so I don't end up with a swollen brain and drooling in a nursing home for the rest of my life. It's costing our project $300 for this shot alone, but since my brain is my most cherished possesion, I think it's worth it.)

Gotta go unpack. Laundry would be a good idea too since I have been living in the same clothes for ten days. Good practice for India, also it was a good time to find out how much weight on my back was too much. I need to find another backpack and carry less stuff ...


Looking Up ...

Farewell to Summer

We're leaving Denman Island today and going to either Bowen or Gabriola Island. Yesterday was the Blackberry Faire on Denman. Pictures to come. Just like the '70's all over again.


Since I've come here, my intuitions about the relationship between Denman and Hornby Island have turned out to be right ... Hornby is the more privileged of the Island, economically speaking. Denman is sometimes referred to as the doormat to Hornby. People have to drive across Denman to get to Hornby, a phenomena that is referred to as the "Hornby 500".

My travelling pal says it's kind of the like the relationship between Hamilton and Toronto. Poor little downtrodden Denman.

Wish we were here to take the last ferry from Hornby today. The Hornby residents have a traditional "Farewell to the Tourists" ceremony when the last ferry happens. They all go down to the ferry dock and wave goodbye to the tourists and yell "Thanks for coming, thanks for going". The ferry captain takes part in it to and there is much ceremony and blowing of horns.

But we will be gone to yet another island. I'm starting to feel like I'm turning a corner too. Already compiling my "To Do" list .. everything from getting final shots, to getting shoes, reminding Dave he has to send my my E-ticket for India, organizing the money supply, getting my visa for India ... I'm just easing my way back to work, just like everybody else is doing right now.

Oh ya, I almost forgot .. Happy Labour Day. Workers of the World Unite!

Not for Sale

What an odd little island this is. Still on Denman Island. Funny how each of the islands has its own personality. Went over to Hornby Island yesterday which was much different from Denman, which is much different from Cortes, Gabriola etc. I have now been on six of the Gulf Islands and the contrast between them is striking.

Denman and Cortes are really hardscrabble little places where you can tell how much people are struggling. Hornby and Gabriola are more gentrified. We won't even talk about Saltspring, which is positively suburban.

All of the islands are getting rapidly bought up by people who have much more money than the people who have lived here for twenty or thirty years. The islands have been a haven for back-to-the-landers, draft dodgers, artists and anybody else who wanted to escape. And they're not all taking kindly to the influx of city folk who are waving large bankrolls in front of the islanders. It's a big temptation when you're offered half a million dollars for a place that you might have spent $50,000 on. Even for the people who don't sell, it's changing the community.

Here on Denman, some of the local folks are doing their own form of "Hell No, We Won't Go". Mixed in with "For Sale" signs throughout the island are "NOT for sale" signs. The real estate company advertised has names like "Bananarchy Realty - Pimping the Planet One Acre at a Time". It's very funny. I'm going to go out today and get some pictures of some of the more unique ones (though they're ALL unique).

I can see what they're trying to protect. It's real tempting to stay here and never go back. This morning I went out into the yard and there were two does and four fawns grazing about ten feet away from me.

Yesterday we went to Hornby Island, which is a little more gentrified than Denman. It has a GREAT nude beach with clean, fine sand. Almost ended up walking 8 miles from the ferry terminal because of it, though.

We lost track of time and didn't catch the ferry until 7:15. By the time we got back to Denman it was starting to get dark and there wasn't much traffic to hitch a ride with. Fortunately we met a nice man who was out for a night time walk and we explained we were out on a VERY long walk. So, in typical island fashion, he offered us a ride.

The islands are really good for that kind of thing. Sure hope they can preserve that spirit in spite of encroaching development.

Oh, and did I mention there is a cougar and a bear and cubs on the island? Sure glad we got that ride ... "lions and tigers and bears, oh my!"

Killaloe with a View

My travellin' buddy and I arrived at Denman Island last night. Accommodations are slim pickings on the Islands this weekend since it is the long weekend.

We found ourselves a little guesthouse called The Denman Island Guesthouse. It's somethin' else. The Killaloe reference in my title is to a little place in the Ottawa Valley where time has stood still, and the Denman Island Guest House is also in that category.

How to describe it .. I will post a picture when I get back to Vancouver so you can see for yourself. In the meantime, here goes. It's a 1912 farmhouse that hasn't really been updated since that time. It's kind of like the house of an eccentric old uncle where everything in it has landed there over a period of time with no thought to planning and design. Or maybe it's like the summer cottage where all the outdated furniture from the main house has gone to die.

I expect a power struggle with my companion tonight over who gets the better bed. Last night he suggested he might need the bigger bed, I said I wasn't giving up that easy and we flipped for it. Tails I win. I did. Then again, because I snore (shh, don't tell anybody), he may just decide to go for one of the dorm rooms.

The house also has a brand new hot tub, which is becoming a theme throughout this blog isn't it? And a glorious view of the mountains of Vancouver Island. I think I'm going to have fun here for a couple of days. And it's only $20 a night, so the price is right too.

It also has a cafe with good coffee and yummy sounding food. And internet access, so I'm having my coffee, blogging away and enjoying the morning.

Waiting for the lights to go out ..

I'm leaving Hollyhock and Cortes Island this morning and over to Denman and Hornby Island. The power is going to go out any minute .. new power line going in across the water from Vancouver Island. So I don't have much time.

It's been a blast. Tour of the island yesterday, where people are still mad because somebody painted a yellow line down the middle of the highway ("I'm paying for both sides of the road so I can drive wherever I want") Typical rural community with the usual squabbles between people but they make it work.

Did yoga this morning. Yesterday was better .. hit the wall so had to ease up on myself. think I'll go jump in the hot tub for one last time before shoving off.

Wonderful time. I'm coming back.


This is The Sanctuary -- the place where the meditation happens.

More from the beach

Still here at Hollyhock. Amazing food. Many intense conversations in the hot tub... amazing to be here, just me and the ocean and the mountains and other people to connect with on a soul level.

And even a high speed internet connection. This is funny - I've been down to the computer room three times and have been the only woman here each time. Not many gear grrrls.

I'm having fun.


Fabulous food! Today, salmon and prawns

Movin' Up-Island

Left Laurie and Jackie's at noon today and took a bus to Campbell River, about three hours up-island. Then I caught two ferries and came to Cortes Island, on the edge of Desolation Sound.

I am at a place called Hollyhock for a few days, a very cosmic retreat centre. Check out the website at www.hollyhock.ca



There are workshops going on here -- one is a yoga workshop, the other on improvisational sound and the other on Wise Women stuff. I am just hanging out, reading, watching the sunsets and lounging around in the hot-tub and beach (which are clothing-optional .. quite a nice feature of the place)

I will try to get up for morning yoga and meditation. I thought I'd have an internet holiday but there is high speed access even up here so, yes I will check my email. Wish I could upload pictures but the computer doesn't have a USB port to connect my camera. So I'll post a whole bunch when I get back to Vancouver.

It is really peaceful, restful and beautiful here. I'm glad I came.

On the farm

I am at my friends Jackie and Laurie's. They bought a 20 acre farm near Nanaimo and invited me to come over and see it. J&L are two of the funnest people I know, so I knew it would be a good time.

I also knew I'd be following them around talking to them as they worked. I lived at their place in Ottawa for a few months so was always having conversations with them as they drywalled the crawl space, unfroze the pipes, fixed the fence .. and the experience of doing that has now doubled, tripled and quadrupled. Following them around 20 acres of farm is an even bigger job.

This morning it was out to the pond to watch Laurie trying to save the pump and himself from sliding into the slippery muddy bank of the pump (he saved the pump from going in, but not himself). Their B&B is still a work in progress and will be opening next year. Even now it is truly lovely even if the bathrooms aren't entirely operational yet. But hell, it's a 20 acre farm with lots of bushes.

This morning I am off to Cortes Island to splurge on a few days at a place called Hollyhock Retreat. Hot tub with an ocean view, gorgeous vegetarian meals, yoga and meditation to start the morning .. check it out at www.hollyhock.ca

Other than feeling like I deserve an experience of pure luxury, I also want to check it out because this is the kind of place I want to start in Nova Scotia. So my trip is even tax deductible. Got a new journal with me, lots of ideas and it will be a wonderful time, I am sure.

Back to Vancouver on Sept 5, then on SEpt 10 I'm going to Seattle for a few days. It's been quite a summer and just a warmup for the Asia trip.

I'll post pictures when I get back to a fast internet connection.


Jackie (not Laurie) almost falling into the pond.

Om

So when things get busy, time to do yoga and meditate. My little friend is Yuli. Her father is Chris, who I worked with at CBC a long time ago. I was very happy to see that his life has improved greatly with the addition of his new partner Charlotte and Yuli, who is four. They even went all the way to China to get her. Chris was a confirmed bachelor for years and I just never thought I would ever see the day ...

Getting Yuli to meditate and do yoga is a pretty tall order. Getting her to sit still is even harder than getting me to sit still. But we did it, and as you can see by the look of concentration on her face, she was intensely into the experience (Yuli tends to be intensely into every experience ... nothing mellow about this little gal) She is also intensely fun.

Hippie Heaven part 2

Still having a great time here on Gabriola. Went for a long, long walk this morning, hung out at the beach about an hour's walk from Ken and Donna's. Meditated, did yoga, read ... what a wonderful way to spend a summer day.

Walked on the tideflats looking at rocks on the shore .. this island has some really unusual rock formations that are like caves in the rock. I walked out onto the tide flats until I realized I was sinking ... Splashed mud up and down my legs. It was a messy business but the mud felt really good squishing between my toes.

Also started shooting a kind of impressionistic video poem on the theme of starfish clinging to rocks waiting for the tide to come in. It takes a long time for the tide to come in, and starfish don't do much while they wait. So that was a really meditative experience too. Maybe I should design a course on video-based meditation (I am only half kidding about this. You learn all about movement and being still when you're behind a video camera, Pretty intense body work) Audio is so much more flexible .. physical discipline is required there too, but the positioning of the mike doesn't often have to be as precise a the positioning of the camera.

Then again, I've had times when I've needed to hold a mike as close to the waterline as I could without getting the mike wet. This DOES require great precision. Less risky if I put a condom (unlubricated, of course) on the mike. Unprotected miking can be a dangerous thing, so it's good practice to have one in the mike kit. Quick movements and losing your footing are even more dangerous as all of your gear and you go tumbling into the water. (hasn't happened yet, though)

Generally, that's pretty good all round advice .. move slowly, don't lose your footing and always be prepared!

Life in Hippie Heaven

I am on the road for a few days visiting my friends Ken and Donna on spectacular Gabriola Island. Gabriola Island is one of the gulf islands, between the mainland and Vancouver Island, where a lot of hippies went in the '70's and decided never to return to civilization.

Ken is working on starting a community radio station here. And wherever two or three are gathered in the name of community radio, there I also am.

I will have some great pictures to post once I get back to the mainland. Today I went into the village with Donna and met 5 Alpacas being led down the street. Sort of a little Alpaca parade (my mom told me a couple of years ago that she wanted an alpaca for a pet. I can see why. They are so cute, cute, cute. For those who have never met an Alpaca, they are mini llamas.

Ken is cleaning out the truck and we are about to set out to see the sights of the island. Tomorrow I'll go off hiking by myself, hang out at a few beaches, read and have a real nice time exploring. Friday we head back to Vancouver, stopping first at many Value Villages along the way and making a side trip to the (sadly) infamous Squamish Oil slick. (Ken is a fervent environmentalist so we're going on a fact finding mission). Hard stuff to look at. I have my video camera with me so I'm sure I'll do some documenting.

As far as what I'm going to do with it, I don't really know yet. Right now, I"m just getting used to the art of doing work with moving pictures so it won't be anything ambitious. Maybe I'll do my first video podcast.

Must go .. the tour bus is waiting. Pictures in a couple of days. Sooner if uploading from Ken's computer isn't a big deal ...

Tree Hugger

From the Top of the World

My friend Sara and I decided to take a trip to Whistler. "What do you want to go to Whistler for?" everybody was asking us. "It's just a ski town with no snow."

ya, but it's a ski lodge with no snow where the 2010 Olympics are going to be held. If nothing else, going there will mean we can say nonchalantly "oh yes, the last time I was in Whistler .."

So we went. The ski village is just that. A ski village. Pleasant enough, lots of restaurants. Had lunch. It was nice.

And then we figured that since we've come all this way, we had to go up the mountain. And up we went. Twenty-five minute ride in a covered gondola, and then up another ten minutes on an open ski lift.

And I've got to say I am so glad we did this. To be up there, close to the clouds, to the snowy mountain peaks was a sense of the eternal in one quick little trip. I didn't want to come back down.

Next time I do this, I am going to spend the whole day up there, 7100 feet in the clouds. There is a trail down to the next set of chairlifts that takes an hour and a half to walk down. And trails on the summit so you can walk around.

There is snow up there, little rivulets of water that are probably huge rivers in spring, little alpine flowers, no trees, lots of rock of all shades of grey and brown. Cold? You bet, considering I was wearing shorts and a skimpy top. The cold was energizing, and brisk and just made me feel totally alive.

What a trip. I'm so glad we did it. (travel tip -- if you go there and want to have lunch, don't eat in the village. Take the covered gondolas up to the first level and have lunch looking at one of the most spectacular views you'll see anywhere).

Makes me even more excited about my upcoming trip into the Himalayas.

Don't Drop Your Shoes!

On the way back down from the summit, I was finally brave enough to take out my camera and take some pictures.

Not that I'm afraid of heights, but I am afraid of dropping my camera. I chanced it. Camera arrived at the bottom intact.

I didn't chance losing my $80 Birkenstocks, though. So I put them in my knapsack on the way down. And in doing so, got to bring back some of the dusty mountain soil back with me.

What a fabulous trip. I have never ever been closer to the sky. (being in an airplane doesn't count).

Here's a view from the very top -- 7100 feet up. Glorious.


A View from the Summit

Living Organically

I've been experimenting with a new way of life. One that has been gradually evolving over the past few years, even though I didn't know it was happening.

It's about letting life evolve naturally, trusting my intuition, believing that things are going to get done without having to resort to timetables, to-do lists and day planners.

Back when I first started working totally independently, I would structure my day to begin at 9 am, stop for lunch precisely at 12 .. you get the idea. It was like I needed to punch my own time clock in order to stay on track.

A lot of this was born from the need to get things done and be "productive". How I measured productivity was by the number of words written, number of phone calls made, number of minutes of sound and documentaries composed. You get the idea. That's the way I used to define productivity.

Well, in the last couple of years in particular, I have not been able to define myself strictly by that criteria. My life had changed in a way that I was needing to define myself by other values. And ya, it was a struggle (and still is) to redefine myself in a way that doesn't rely on the merely quantifiable or definable to determine what has and hasn't been a successful day.

These days, I get up when I want to get up. I eat when I am hungry. I go for a walk when I want to. I play the piano. I go to the computer to send out emails when I want to and I "work" when I want to.

And do you know what? Things get done. The money has come in, I have food on the table and everything I need.

I still have a hard time trusting that following my own schedule and intuition will get me to a really good place. I want to fall back on that old tendency to run headfirst into my work with singleminded determination to achieve "results". The concept of "surrender" is something I still have a great deal of trouble with, yet when I run headlong into something, it has often turned out to be a wall (ouch). And I usually don't have a helmet on, either.

It's not that I haven't been "working" lately. Far from it -- in many ways, these past few years have been some of the hardest work of my life. Getting to the place where I am now has required great amounts of focus, trust and a firm idea of what I want. I don't even know if I even should use the term "work" .. it just doesn't seem to apply to the way I do things anymore.

And where am I right now? I am in a place and in a space I am really liking to be, doing things that really resonate with my soul. I am becoming the person I want to be, rather than the person I thought everybody else wanted. It's not been easy getting here, and I am sometimes (often, even now) really sad at what I've had to surrender up to be where I am now.

Yes, it's been hard work. But yet, the good things in my life haven't happened through any great design of my own ... I've often said to my friends that I've been living my life most recently on grace, luck and skill ... in that order. And much of the time it hasn't felt like my success has had very much to do with my skill, either. Things just evolved and took their own time. And no, I sure didn't often trust that I was headed in the right direction.

Still don't sometimes. I still want to fall back on my To-Do list and plan everything within a minute of next week. But the thing I've learned that is more powerful is that if we trust ourselves, trust the people around us, trust the universe, god, goddess or whoever, our To-Do list will take care of itself.

And there will be much more rich things when we review what we've accomplished than if we'd written everything done and done everything on the list in our usual singular, too-focussed compulsive way.

Because many of the best things that happen to us won't even appear on our list at all ...

Oh My God! It's the God Truck!

I remember saying to a friend before I came out here, "But is the God Truck still around?". And today I found it.

This one is probably more accurately called Son of God-Truck. Because it's not exactly the same. The old God-Truck was like a .. say, probably a three ton truck. The signs on it were made of wood and it was mounted on the bed of the truck like an A-frame. It looked like a cross between a sandwich board and an evangelistic little camper. You could take it into the rainforest and sleep in it when you're done proselytizing.

Son of God Truck looks like a camper van from one angle, and a monster truck from another (puny little monster truck, but the monster truck all the same). Stylistically the two are very similar -- if it's not the God Truck guy himself with an updated image, it might be his kid. To paraphrase a friend of mine .. "this is not indeed the God-Truck, but the God-Truckness cannot be denied".

The message has changed. No words about Jesus Christ coming to earth. Lots of political rambles, including the question "are you a sheeple?" Much railing about the evil media, evil oil, evil George Bush and a quote by (I forget his first name) Wolfewitz.

Guess these days he figures we don't have to talk directly about Satan ...

Good to see that quirky expression still exists in Vancouver. And that the spirit of the God-Truck is still alive and travellin' around.

Hangin' Out at the Beach

Just got back from spending a few days in the Okanagan Valley with my in-laws. The first picture is me, of course, about to dunk because the rock I was standing on was slippery.

The other picture is Crystal, Tyler and Kathy. Kathy is Barry's sister and Tyler and Crystal are her two kids (who aren't really kids anymore. Crystal is an ol' married lady now who just found out she's pregnant, which will make me a GREAT-aunt. I told her I wasn't old enough. And certainly her mother, who is only a few months older than me is not old enough to be a grandmother. Scary for those of us who aren't old enough, but real nice for Crystal and her husband Joel who are really excited).

I had a really wonderful time, possibly one of the nicest times I've ever had with all of them. As usual, Barry's mom and I were a (good) bad influence on each other, eating chocolate for breakfast, spending too much money, talking about all the relatives (especially Barry).

What was wonderful is how the whole Rueger clan have made a big effort to make sure I stick around. They have all gone out of their way to keep in touch and make sure I stay a member of the family, even if Barry and I aren't together anymore. Makes me feel really appreciated.

It was fun. And boy, was it hot. The water was wonderful. And so was the whole trip in general (saw a bald eagle on the way back home. Bonus. This is such gorgeous country.)

Ah, Vancouver Part 2

I always liked those sulphur piles. Don't know much about them or why they're there, but they always looked really dramatic against the blue of the water, the gray of the mountains and the blue of the sky.

I took this picture while crossing the Burrard Inlet on the Seabus. Nice little 12 minute trip from the City of Vancouver to North Vancouver. I've been doing a lot of exploring and re-exploring over the past week since I arrived. A lot of the places that I used to haunt are still around .. including the old apartment building where Barry and I lived for five years. It's only ten blocks or so from where I am staying. It's a very old building with a very large green space behind it, which is why I am surprised that it is still there. The owner could make a lot more money by tearing down and building up.

Still, for the sake of my memories I'm glad it's still there.

It is a very exciting city, though, and I am glad to be here even if it's only for the summer. I am finding more energy in myself than I have for a lot of years. I am now exactly twice the age I was when I moved out here the first time -- and I've got to say that of all the different incarnations that I have gone through, my time in Vancouver was the part of my life when I liked myself the most.

And a lot of that same energy has come back to me. It's like my younger self met me at the airport. She and I (younger Victoria and older Victoria) been having a really good time connecting with each other again.

I am also gradually reconnecting with friends of olde .. there are quite a few of them still around, so it will be really good to connect with them.

I've got all summer. That's real good.

Thank you for listening to me

It is now day 3 of the World Urban Forum. So far I've done 2 interviews with another one scheduled for later this afternoon.

The interviews have been good, but the most value is learning a lot more about all the issues I'll be covering with Green Planet Monitor. Specifically, I've been to several sessions about post-tsunami reconstruction and I think I have a better handle on what needs to be covered as part of this very huge story.

One of the big things I am learning has nothing to do with issues, though. It has more to do with how the first and the third world relate to each other. A phrase comes up continuously at the end of panel discussions -- "thank you for listening to me". Granted, first world people also usually end their talks with the obligatory thank you as well. But there's something different about the way it's phrased when .. for lack of a better term ... we Anglos say it.

For us, it's more a matter of formality. I get the impression that there's no real heart in it ... I'm sure it's meant on some level but it seems to be more like a habit.

The people I have heard from the third world have a gentler way of saying it. "Thank you for listening to me". As though they are surprised. There's also a real expression of gratitude .. like they have no expectation that being listened to is a right and are really happy for the chance.

From now on, I am going to try to say "thank you for listening to me" more often. Because, in this world, we are given a gift when people listen to us. And by saying thank you I am acknowledging the gift.

I also believe that being listened to is also a right .. but if we all said thank you to each other we wouldn't have to demand our rights. We would give AND receive the gratitude we all need.

Voiceless in Radioland

I have my voice back again. I got a really nasty bout of almost bronchitis and had to really concentrate on not losing my voice so I could speak at the National Campus and Community Radio Conference yesterday. Tough work, being at a radio conference and trying not to talk.

As most of you probably figured out, I didn't totally manage to be mute all week. But I did cut back on the use of my vocal chords and the two workshops and soundwalk I did yesterday went really well.

I am in Ottawa, by the way, in case you've lost track (I lose track of myself on a daily basis, so quite understandable if you do too).

I really like this city. If I was going to live anywhere in Ontario, this would be it. Having a really good time getting together with friends I haven't seen since I lived here five or six years ago. This city is so pretty. And so polite ... not much Windsorness or Hamilton-ness to it at all (though I do appreciate the realness of both those cities -- Ottawa has a lot of smoke and mirrors -- there is a lot of pretending done here)


There is an upside to living out of a backpack and not needing to be any place at any particular time.

Keep in touch, y'all ... FYI - I am back in Hamilton on Tuesday and Wednesday, heading Toronto way on Thursday, then flying out to Vancouver on Friday (the 16th). Yee haw.

Not a career option

It always helps to know where you stand when a chance for a job comes up .. do I apply or not? Would I be happy doing this kind of work?

Here is a no-brainer. I got an email from the "Defense Talent Network" inviting me (and likely hundreds of thousands of others) to apply for a job as a proposal writer. Ya, a job I could do, but is "Defense Talent Network" what I think it is.

Sure enough. How anybody managed to get me on a list to imvite to do work involving missile defence systems and ICBMs is a question .. obviously they don't know anything about the people they're spamming. Because if they did any research at all, they sure wouldn't ask ME.

fyi -- still on the road, heading up to Ottawa for a week. Back to Hamilton/T.O. on June 12, out to Vancouver on the 16th.

The Sound of One Train Colliding

It was an eventful trip. I caught the Northlander for South River this morning.

I was sitting in the first car behind the engines. This particular engineer blew his whistle a lot. Thinking that I could use a good train whistle in my sound collection, I took out my mike and stood in the vestibule between the engine and the first car.

I had been recording for about 3 minutes when the train came to a stop. In retrospect, I can remember bracing myself just a bit .. the train must have put its brakes on quickly, but it was still a very smooth stop. I kept recording until the train came to a complete stop and got the thumping of one car on another and (I think) some squealy brake sounds.

I went back to my seat. A minute or so later, one of the crew came on the P.A. and said we would be delayed because there had been an accident. That was a little spooky -- the only five minutes I recorded on the train would have captured the changing sounds of the train as the impact was happening.

I haven't listened back to the recording yet -- I am wondering if the engineer was blowing the whistle even more than usual in that space and time. I wonder if I can detect the moment of impact.

I am also wondering if I will be able to listen to that bit of recording and use it in sound pieces without conjuring up the associations of having been in an accident. I'm sure it will sound different to me than it will to anyone else listening .. I know the larger context and they don't. (Which is true of any recording we make -- for the person who created the recording, there are many different associations which wouldn't be there for other people.)

And then of course I went into journalistic mode, and got the story from the train crew. Seems that the person in the car is okay -- the train either clipped the front or the back of the car, sending it flipping over. But he's alive. Good thing his timing wasn't a split section off or he would have been right in the path of the train. And the story wouldn't have had a happy ending.

It was a long train trip. The crew was all shook up so in addition to waiting while the police investigated at the scene of the accident, we had to wait in Bracebridge while Ontario Northland brought in a new crew from North Bay. The new conductor told me that there is always a crew change as soon as possible after an accident. This is a good thing .. I can't imagine what it must be like to be an engineer and know you're going to hit a car. And not being able to do anything about it.

I'm glad everybody's alright.

The technological universe expands!

This is my first audioblog post. Had to try it out to see if it works. So if you want to hear my voice, just hit the Play arrow.

Now I have to think of creative audio I can post over the telephone. Maybe I'll read a poem next time.

The Birds

Hi friends -- I am in Toronto this week. Had a good though challenging time in Hamilton last week .. in the end, the good times outweighed the challenges.

This week I am in Toronto doing a guest Radio Art deejay stint at the Radio without Boundaries conference. This morning I was at my sister Di's place and went for a walk in High Park. A couple of people along the edge of the pond warned me to watch out for the red-winged blackbirds because they were dive-bombing people. The guess is that this is a critical day in nesting season and they are trying to warn us away. What they'd do is swoop down on people's heads, grazing their hair as they did it. One came after me but I was able to duck.

And speaking of ducks, I saw eight adorable little ducklings. It was a good day for birdwatching. I didn't have my camera with me so couldn't take any pictures but I will try to upload some visuals when I am in South River next week. The Blackfly festival has started .. oh joy. Oh well, it's still awfully nice up there, blackflies notwithstanding.

Packing and Unpacking

Well, time for the official "on the road" part of my blog to come back. I tell all my friends, this is the best way to keep up with where I'm going to be when. And I can also refer back to it myself when I find myself asking "so where am I going today?" Or even "where I am I right now?"

I have left Windsor. Might be going back .. they'd like me to teach 2 courses next January. Radio Broadcasting and also Sound Design. Which is cool -- sound design means I get to teach some composition, which is the whole artistic side of things. but that's not until January and there are a lot of miles to go before I get to that point.

I am at my friend Ellen's in Hamilton until Friday. Ellen is a poet and has also graciously allowed me to keep my stuff in her attic. So every time I come to visit Ellen, I get to visit my stuff.

And also unload more of my stuff that I just can't carry around. I'm taking off for Toronto, South River, Ottawa for brief visits and then for Vancouver for the next few months. I am living out of a backpack -- and the backpack is still too full.

So I'm trying to figure out what I really need, rather than what would just be nice. Do I really need to bring all of my long dresses ... sorry, the hats will get crushed ... two pair of jeans really are necessary because what if I fall in the water .. that cute little black dress can come with me because it's little and very versatile. A couple of pair of earrings don't take up much space and they dress things up. Three week supply of underwear is a little excessive. And I've recently started wearing makeup again .. I am starting to acquire enough face paint to be a supermodel. I'm in radio, I remind myself. This is not necessary.

There's an art to travelling light in this world .. I'm still getting the hang of it.

Write to me! Helps keep me company on the road!

The Second Cull

Once again begins the ritual which is becoming all too familiar.

Last August it was the garage sale, where I watched as accumulated possessions from 21 years of marriage went to new homes. You know, it wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. I look at it now as a redistribution of wealth. We gave away a lot of our stuff. And now it's a wonderful thing to go to friends' places and see bits of my past life in their house. It's not hard any more. It's comforting.

When it comes right down to it, I did keep a lot of stuff for that faroff day when I might have something resembling a home again. My favourite pieces of furniture are at my sister's place until I need them. And I kept about 30 boxes of my favourite things -- mostly books, CDs, my pottery, favourite dishes and kitchen things. And artworks of course.

I brought a carload of stuff down with me to Windsor. Now I'm going through all that stuff again (and the few bits that I've acquired) to see what I really want to keep and what I don't.

Through it all, I am always thinking about stuff .. what we need, what we don't. What we have that enhances our life and how much we have that bogs us down. And even though I enjoy what I have, I do think about how much easier it would be if I could just throw everything in a backpack and get on the plane.

Many times in my life, I have sold just about everything and done that. And just as many times, I've packed up more than I needed and moved it many more miles than it needed to go. Only to look at some of it and ask "why did I move that 2,000 miles"? (I'm travelling a bit lighter now, having sold the baby grand piano that moved all the way from Vancouver to Toronto with us in 1987. Beautiful instrument. I sold it in 1990 after deciding it was too heavy a load to carry. I miss it, but don't miss having to have it moved)

In material terms, I have lost a lot this past year. In moments when I am tempted to yell like Job, "what more do you want from me?" I wonder if I'm headed for the cloister to pray and make cheese or something. I don't think so .. I wouldn't fit in well in a religious setting ... Even the Moonies didn't want me because I was too independent a thinker. They didn't tell me to shut up in indoctrination classes but I could tell they wished I would.

Nonetheless, renunciation has its good points too. Makes it easier to let go. And it's easier to see things clearly without all that clutter.

See you in the cloister.

Delaurier House

Further to my previous post, this is what Delaurier House looks like. The front part isn't historically accurate -- Ed Delaurier, who died in the 1960's, loved plants. So he built a greenhouse on the front.

If you look at the house from the back, half of it is log cabin and the other half is board and batten. I think the front is all board and batten -- don't know why the back half is different than the front.

My grandmother's books say that it was also an inn at one point. Looked awfully small to me to be an inn, but I guess houses were smaller in those days. The family also ran a tavern and general store at the turn of the 20th century next to the house pictured above.

My great grandfather Fred Delaurier also ran a saloon in Leamington 'round about the same time. My aunt says that when my grandfather died, my grandmother gathered the whole family and made them uncork and drain every bottle of whisky. Except for one bottle which was saved for the christening of the first grandson.

Hmm.. lots of stories there ...

Looking for Grandmere et Grandpere Delaurier

On Easter Monday, Lori (my sister), Elizabeth and Emily (my nieces) and I went to Point Pelee. I had told Emily and Elizabeth that there was a museum at the Point which was the original home of our great-great-great-great (?) grandparents, John Baptiste Delaurier and his wife Julia Hazel Delaurier.

I had not been there in many, many years. I can remember going there with my grandmother, Madeline Delaurier Wallace, to visit her great uncle Ed. I was six, great-great (?) Uncle Ed looked like he was 251. I can remember being just a little spooked by the place.

My grandmother had said in her memoirs that she tried to get Uncle Ed to leave the house to Park (as in Point Pelee National Park) when he was alive. No go, Uncle Ed said. Well, somebody changed their mind because the home is now a museum.

And it's still spooky. The museum wasn't open, but we looked in the windows. The house was as I remembered it -- really dark. It's still dark, only now they have mannequins of three of the Delaurier family in the living room. One is sitting on a rocking chair with a fiddle on his knee. The other has a sheet over him and is hunched over the stove (they were fishermen by trade, so he probably just got in from the Lake). And right beside the window, there was a person in bed.

Emily and Elizabeth though it was, on one hand, pretty scary. On the other hand, to have a museum named after someone from your family, and have other people come see it, is pretty neat.

Our trip inspired me to do some digging, to remind myself who all these people were. My grandmother has written many volumes, all typewritten, of the history of the area. Our own family tree has been well documented but I didn't remember much of it. Here's what I found out:

The Delaurier homestead was built in 1839, by John Baptiste Delaurier (it is interesting that all the history books refer to him as John, rather than Jean)
He and Julia had ten children. The girls were sent away to be educated in a convent in Amherstburg.
My great-great grandfather was their youngest son Gilbert. He moved to Leamington and had two wives. Seventeen children altogether. Most of them moved back to the U.S.
My great-grandfather, Fred, stayed in Leamington and was a fisherman. He married Euphemia Foster. My grandmother was their daughter, Madeline Delaurier Wallace.

I read an interview in the library that was done with my grandmother about ten years before she died. She says they didn't get out to the Point much because Leamington was ten miles away and you didn't go that far in those days.

I'm glad to be reading the information that my grandmother worked so hard putting together for forty years of her life. And it's been really good to be back here where our roots run so deep -- every branch of our family has been in this county since 1830.

In a sense, it's home even if I don't plan to put down any more roots here myself .. I guess I don't have to because my roots are already here.

Inauspicious Addresses

Well, things in the clans Fenner/White are still sad, but we're starting to get our senses of humour back .. at least a little bit.

I am consoling myself by thinking about Nova Scotia and getting back there again and opening up my arts retreat/media institute. And giving Cindy a job working with me. Tony's studying Library Science and we're going to need a media librarian too. And we're going to raise chickens and puppies. And a horse or two. (No rabbits, though. They're pretty dumb. So are chickens but eggs are good.)

Got it all figured out how we're going to have a happy future. So I've been doing what I usually do every day, which is combing www.mls.ca (the online real estate site). There are some funny things to be found there.

Like, how's "0 Victory Road" for an address?

Don't think I'll move there. Or Lake Despair either (actually that's one in Northern Ontario -- Barry and I encountered that one when we were in a big 25 foot yellow Ryder truck with all of our possessions in the back. Right about the time we were convinced we were lost in the bush. That was the same trip we went 20 miles offroad in Manitoba, also in our 25 foot big yellow truck, because somebody told us there were buffalo back there.)

Ah, the sadness of life is oft offset by the absurdity ...

Our Baby From the Sea - in Memorium

As quickly he came into our lives, he left us.

Less than a month ago, my sister Cindy phoned from Nova Scotia to say that she and her partner Tony were having a baby. Surprised, yes we were. So were they. And as initial shock turned into happy anticipation, she came home to Ontario to have the baby here.

He didn't even breathe his first breath. His name is William Adam Fenner White. He was born and died early in the morning on April 6, 2006. A fully formed, beautiful little boy.

Before now, I had no idea how intensely someone who isn't even in this world can grip a heart so tightly. And to think of those tiny fingers that will never grip his mother's hand, or mine either for that matter .. is too heartbreaking for words.

Goodbye, sweet Adam. The baby I knew and didn't know ...


****************************

A couple of days later, after the shock has dulled .. but only a bit. A lot of going back and forth .. Tony was in Nova Scotia. He's now here. The baby will be buried at Bow's Cemetery on the shore of Eagle Lake. We can see the cemetery from across the lake.

The best I can do at time like this is write. So I wrote this for Adam

You were conceived of salt water
ripening Annapolis shiny red apples,
from fertile farmland
stretching to the bay,
Of lobster claws and sea shells,
seaweed and fine sand

The rough salt breeze
absorbed into your mother's skin
Your mother danced on the beach
Your father watched, he knows.
he understands the breath of the sea.

You were born not there, not on the ocean.
You were born in your mother's water-world,
the scent of pine trees,
no smell of salt ..
rather, the fresh water aroma of algae and hidden trout
a tiny protected lake
ever filling up from eternal underground springs

Sweet baby,
We will sing you to sleep on the shore.

We will bring you both of your worlds
two worlds that live in your bones, your eyes, your feet

Here by this fresh water shore,
we will bring you scallop shells,
we will pour salt sea water
mixed with salt water tears
onto your tiny place
protected by the rock and shield.
You are home here.

Sweet Adam,
the scent of the pine trees
travels on the winds
all the way to your other home
To the tall pine tree outside your grandfather's house.

and the Maritime breath
of your grandparents, cousins,
aunts and uncles
will travel on the wind to the place you sleep

Sleep gently, sleep peacefully
In the arms of our love
In the arms of the earth

Our baby from the sea, our baby of the lake.



Cyndy and Tony say goodbye ..

Moths to Flames

This from my friend Roxanne --

"a writer is a device for turning alcohol into words."

How true -- some days more than others. Reminds me of yet another quote from my friends Sarah and Kevin in the upcoming podcast, upon reflecting that most of their songs contain references to alcohol, because they say "alcohol contains the best metaphors". It's like moth to the flame, they say, and the piper always needs to be paid.

Maybe I like these ideas because I want to identify with Dorothy Parker.

Curious.

Gathering No Moss

Well, time to move on again. It's been a very good winter .. got some new things under my belt -- teaching university, modelling for art classes (which I'm almost out the door to do today), some new radio programs and sound pieces, lots of reading, lots of blogging, connecting with old friends ... it's been a full few months.

And now I'm starting to pack up and move out of Windsor ... boxing up things to take back to store at my friend Ellen's place in Hamilton. I'll be back and forth a few times in April and May. Come mid-June I'll be going out to housesit for my friends Hildi and Peter in Vancouver.

Two months on the Pacific coast ... those glorious mountains and salt sea breezes off of English Bay. Takes me back to my mid-twenties, arriving with practically no money and waiting and waiting and waiting for my UI cheques. And every day walking to the UI office to see if my money has arrived, frustrated, yet looking up at those mountains and saying to myself, thank god I'm here.

And ya, it's bound to hurt that this is where Barry lived the first part of our lives together. But I'd been there for a while before I met him, and there was a me out there that was not him. There have been very few places since where I can honestly say I've experienced my separate self and been so happy with her.

And I've got lots of friends to visit in really wonderful places all up and down the coast. And then in the fall, over to India, Sri Lanka and Thailand for an undetermined amount of time. I don't have to be anywhere at any particular time.

You know, my life would be darn near perfect right now if my heart wasn't still so sore. You think you're getting over it, and then it comes back to land another punch in the gut yet one more time.

To put it in some kind of perspective -- my friends Sarah and Kevin have this song that Kevin wrote (I'm working on a podcast right now with a conversation with them and five of their really great songs ... the CD will be out in the summer.)

The chorus of this song goes:

And the preacher is preaching salvation
And the judge and the hangman agree
But the point of this whole sad narration
Is the pain that will set us all free

And then there's the Epilogue, which sums it all up

And the preacher is playing piano
And the hangman is drinking the gin
And the judge is in bed with a barmaid named Fred
Too busy to save us from sin

So ultimately I guess that means we can experience our pain without fear of judgement ... because everybody's all wrapped in their own lives. There's something good in that.

You really have to hear the whole song, and all the others. Great album. (I'll let you know when the podcast is posted) Inspires me to start writing songs again too. I'll have a piano all summer in Vancouver. It really is all good.

Even the painful stuff -- it will set us all free.

Happy Birthday Dad

Seventy three years. He was born in 1934. Thankfully, too late to get shipped off to World War 2 -- he was too young. And early enough to enjoy the southern Ontario booming economy -- after many long years of a secure job (balanced with running a 124 acre farm), both he and my mom have a good pension and have a wonderful life living on the shores of Eagle Lake near South River, Ontario.

On April 9th, mom and dad .. Helen 'n Bill .. will be celebrating their 51st wedding anniversary. There are five of us in the next generation .. Marianne, Dianne, me, Lori and Cindy (yup, five girls). Two grandchildren so far, Emily and Elizabeth (yup, two more girls) and another one on the way the end of June (surprise!)-- THIS JUST IN -- IT'S NOT THE END OF JUNE. IT'S THE END OF APRIL.

One night, Barry and I were having a bottle of wine with my mom looking out over the lake late at night in the old cottage (the one where they spent summers before the new house was built). And I asked my mom what attracted her to him way back when. And what has kept them together all these years.

"Because a nicer man never walked the face of the earth" was her response. Amen to that.

The Next Digital Frontier - part 1

I went out and bought an MP3 player yesterday. I figured I'd better get some personal experience with this method of content delivery to expand my knowledge of podcast and internet audio delivery.

I am discovering a whole new world in the process. And yes, I am looking/listening to my work much differently just in the 24 hours that I've owned this little gadget. It's a whole new world out there. There's a lot I could say about the medium being the message and how I need to change the way I work to adapt to the new universe. But let's start with the practicalities and discuss buying an MP3 player.

First discoveries: There are so many players available with so many features that it's hard to choose. And there's a big difference in models, probably based on price point, I would guess. First of all, I chose the RCA Lyra because it had a line-in jack. Which I hoped was compatible with a condenser mike (they sometimes are, but not always, worth a try) so I could hopefully use it as a recording device too. Well, no, got it home and found out that the line in jack is not a standard line in jack. So it will only work with the cable they provide. (Which works fine for some applications, but what happens if you lose the special little cable?) I was thinking about keeping it anyway, but I figure it's not a good thing that it seized up many times and I needed to remove the battery to reset it. Nope, not good.

And no manual. I am starting to make a lot of purchasing decisions based on whether or not there's a manual included. In this case, I had to go to a website, use up a whole bunch of paper and ink to print it out, and now I have a manual I don't need.

So I took it back, and got an IRiver. Which I like. I had to make the difficult choice between a model without a radio, but which had a line-in jack (right size this time). They didn't have a model with both. Since I already have a bunch of recording devices I chose the 1 GB T10 Model.

I'm glad I exchanged the Lyra for the IRiver. The difference in sound quality is truly amazing. Truly a pleasure to listen to. And it came with a manual. And it's heftier and sportier -- a pretty blue and it comes with handy things like an armband so you can wear it. You can also look at photos on it (if you really need to look at a postage-stamp sized picture).

Downside -- no line-in. I really wanted that line-in. And it is so tiny that the controls are hard to work with adult sized hands. But that's true of all of them. Cramped hand muscles are the price we pay for the tiny size of the thing. And it was about $40 more than the Lyra, but worth it for the improved quality.

Oh, the other downside. IRiver is solidly in bed with Microsoft, so the only software that will synch to it is Windows Media Player. More about software tomorrow after I accept the reality that WMP is what it's going to be -- I wouldn't mind so much if the software was as easy to use as the software that came with the Lyra. And WMP has a lot of built in features that constantly link to the internet to sell me music I don't want. It's very intrusive.

More about that tomorrow ...