The Canadian Chronicles

Two Poems from 2003

2012-01-15T14:48:00.000-08:00

I came across these while going through a box full of memories...

(both untitled)

Somewhere in this room of stopped clocks
and no power and empty spaces
where the furniture should be,
is a silence worth listening to.

Perfume or aftershave could linger
above the carpet stains
but the lights and pipes and water
quiver and rattle alone.

When it all comes back to the thing
the you and me and us of it
this space is all just part of it and
the silence remains the same,
interrupted only by time.

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

Phone calls are mostly long-diatnce -
this is the dust of which you speak
if I cry out to hear you,
it'll reach there in a week.

Thunder in the distance calls -
more loquacious than you or I
when you try to shout to me
it comes out as a sigh.

The distance calls across a time -
passion seeking pain
if I go back to next week,
it'll all still be the same.

There is no power in empty spaces,
passion meeting pain
there's only guilt and hope and rage,
they all work out the same.

The Final Stretch

2011-11-05T12:24:00.000-07:00

Photo courtesy of L. Hemmes - my photographer for the day :)

It's rather hard to believe that years of paper work, stress, and waiting are all (nearly) over. I am officially a Canadian citizen. And I have my passport application submitted - the final step in the process.

It's a rather weird feeling suddenly realising it's all finally done. The citizenship application process was in itself not in any way as stressful as immigration, but the waiting (oh the waiting!) is so hard. And given that you have no choice over when to appear for your test or your ceremony, it can be a source of worry until you finally get notified.

Flags, Pins and Responsibilities

I was really surprised at how much I enjoyed my ceremony. I expected it to be a bit arbitrary and somewhat bureaucratic, but it was actually rather nice (if a little long). As I have not fled persecution nor left my home country because of disastrous circumstances, experiences, or any other negative reasons, I felt that it would be a pretty standard procedure, even a little cheesy if you will.

After being seated, and receiving a flag, pin and pamphlet (the best part being a year's Culture Pass - free access to certain cultural sites across the country! awesome!), we were addressed by the officiator, and then the judge came out. She gave a lovely, inspiring speech about our responsibilities as new citizens, about the idea of contributing and not just "plugging in".

She was a bit heavy handed on the armed forces stuff, and I had to supress a giggle when she went on about how hard the Queen works, but she made one really touching and powerful observation, in particular, that actually choked me up and caused a bit of a tear: she talked about how this was the day we changed our family story, and how future generations would hear the story and wonder about it. I had never thought of it in that way, and it was a really powerful thought. Daunting, and inspiring.

Affirming, Not Swearing

I was all excited to have an opportunity to swear at the Queen, but sadly, we only got to "affirm" that we would be good citizens. How disappointing :) As with the test, we had very little information to prepare us for what the ceremony would entail, and I think quite a few of us were a bit surprised that we had to stand up and say our names one by one, before the oath. I really liked that the judge looked at each person and tried to hear their names. It made it seem a lot less clinical.

We then said the oath in English and French, and lined up in an orderly fashion to get our certificates from the judge. She really was very engaged with everyone, which I think added a great, personal element. As she shook hands with each person, she asked a little about them or made a comment or observation. Personal contact? A human response? What???

And of course, we ended of with a rousing chorus of Oh Canada, that was out of time with the music... Rather weird to think that was the first time I've actually sung the anthem. Not nearly as fun as Nkosi Sikelele iAfrica, but definitely shorter :)

And that was that.

Eh.

PS - Of course, I celebrated in proper Canadian/Vancouver fashion afterwards by having lunch with The Husband and my friend at my favourite Mexican vegetarian restaurant...

Things I Still Find Weird About Living in Canada

2011-10-22T11:57:00.000-07:00

It's been almost 6 years and I'm a few days away from Canadian citizenship**, and yet there are things that still weird me out somewhat or puzzle me in my daily life here in the Great White North. In no particular order, these are some of the things I've remarked on, adapted to, but never quite fully accepted:

1. The large gap between the door and the door frame in public toilets (or rather, washrooms, as they are called here). I'm not quite sure why you'd want people to be able to see in. As I already have a bit of a thing about public washrooms (stage fright, I reckon), this makes it even more awkward. On the bathroom note, people seem to find the word 'loo' very amusing here, but I still maintain that you're not washing yourself, nor taking a rest (like in the US), so what's wrong with the old loo?

2. An annual obsession with leaf blowers. I am sure I've mentioned this before in my blog, but I still do not understand the manic obsession that overtakes the neighbourhood around this time of year. The loud whine of leaf blowers disturbs the peaceful fall morning. And WHY? As far as I can tell, this tic mostly afflicts the male of the species. I've watched many a man spend hours blowing bits of leaf around the pavement, into the road, into the gutter... i.e. everywhere except into a pile that can be raked up and taken away. I've yet to understand this, nor appreciate it at 7am on a Saturday morning. I do, however, think it may have something to do with the fact that they look like jet packs and it's some kind of male fantasy thing happening.

3. Power sockets with no switches. I know the voltage here is lower than in SA, but the whole bung a plug into the old outlet thing with no control over the power still freaks me out a little. That and having one right next to the basin. I often think about this as I dry my hair. One slip, one bit of water and it's tickets.

4. The lack of consistency in adopting the metric system, and other measurements. It is very confusing living in a place that seems to be a hybrid of British and American systems for things. Weights are in pounds, but then very often, depending on where something is from in a shop, the price might be listed in pounds, but the product information on the bag is in kilos. Heights are in feet, but all other measurements tend to be in metres; distances are in kms; temperatures in farenheit on ovens, but centigrade for weather. And don't even get me started on the various systems used for clothing sizes... For someone like me who is mathematically challenged, all of this is infinitely confusing.

5. The never-ending list of words that are different. Examples: boot/trunk; pavement/sidewalk; grill/broil; biscuit/cookie; toque/beanie; robot/stoplight or traffic light; rocket/arugala etc. And then there are things that have the same names, but are different in use or form. For example, cottage cheese. Here it tends to be almost more yoghurt like and is eaten with fruit, not as a sandwich or cracker topping. While I'm struggling to think of more at the moment, and hope to expand this list whenever I can, I have written other posts about some of these.

6. The lack of lights in certain rooms. I still find it weird that a lot of houses will not have an overhead light, but instead a power outlet that is connected to the light switch. What this means is that you have to install a lamp and then you control it from the light switch. This just seems pointless and impractical.The light switches are also usually opposite to those in SA, directionally speaking.

7. The strange nature of closets and cupboards. In most homes in SA, you either have built-in cupboards (or BICs, usually with drawers and hanging space), or large wardrobes. Here, most places will have BICs in a cabinetry form in the kitchen, but bedroom and storage cupboards will be built like a tiny little room - with a doorway and then often just a rail. In many places I've been to or lived here, these don't have doors. It seems highly impractical to take up that much space in a room without really being very useful or private. Also, it appears that everything is referred to as a closet, other than kitchen cupboards, for example.

And so on.

Perhaps the nice thing about still being aware of these differences is the fact that I still feel I am maintaining my identity as a South African, while adapting to living here. What keeps a place interesting, to me, is the quirks it has.

It's ultimately all about trying to figure out where my own quirks fit in, though, isn't it?

** Crisis averted, BTW - apparently I am ok to keep my SA citizenship because I am acquiring my 2nd citizenship by marriage - woohooo!

How Timely... How Effing Annoying!

2011-10-05T16:04:00.000-07:00

Little did I know when I wrote yesterday's post that I would discover two things today:

1. I passed my test and have my notification to appear at my citizenship ceremony in a few weeks.

2. I totally and utterly screwed up. I assumed I didn't have to do anything to maintain dual citizenship other than to ascertain that both RSA and Canada accept this. Little did I know that I was supposed to apply to the South African government to retain my SA citizenship before I applied for Canadian citizenship.

What a doos. I cannot believe I messed this up. After years of this. I am not sure if I can plead with the SA govt, seeing as my oath is in a few weeks, and send in the forms now as a last resort, or if this means I have to surrender belonging to my beloved home country.

I don't even know what to say.

22 Steps to Becoming Canadian

2011-10-04T17:14:00.000-07:00

I feel that seeing as I stumbled into it unprepared, and got rather a shock, I should explain to you all the strange and confusing process that is applying to become a Canadian citizen:

Step 1. Use an online calculator to figure out how long you've been in the country to see if you are allowed to stay. This means finding old passports (if you still have them) and frantically trying to remember when the hell you went somewhere, which is then followed by mild depression that you haven't done enough travelling.

Step 2. Fill in a rather simple form with relief that you don't have to justify your existence (cf. application for permanent residence)

Step 3. Pay. Submit. And wait. A lot.

Step 4. Receive a booklet full of random facts a few months later, called "Discover Canada". Browse through it briefly, get bored and/or terrified by the amount of information, and promptly put it away for safe keeping.

Step 5. About 12 months later, just when you are about to go away on holiday, expect a friendly letter from the government telling you to appear at an obscure time (10.17am to be precise, in my case), ready to answer questions on Canada.

Step 6. Take "Discover Canada" with you to ... discover Canada, as you drive around BC and Alberta, through the Rockies and the Prairies.

Step 7. Don't open it once. Feel mildly guilty, but justify it by feeling that you're actually exploring the country.

Step 8. Come home, and realise with panic that you have three days to cram. Do as many online practice tests as you can. Get mad if you get any wrong.

Step 9. Carefully figure out where the test location is.

Step 10. Leave early for said test, but get held up by: a delayed Skytrain, construction, and no easy way to actually find the building.

Step 11. Ask several strangers, one after the other, in an increasingly panicky voice with an increasingly disheveled appearance and sweaty brow, how to get onto the correct street.

Step 12. Arrive at the building, breathless, with a few minutes to spare, and follow the foreign sounding gentleman into the elevator.

Step 13. Find your way to a strange room, already 3/4 full with people diligently seated on wooden school chairs, nervously clutching clipboards. Have flashbacks to Grade 8 school entrance exam. Suppress urge to have palpitations.

Step 14. Present documents and get ushered to a seat. Realise that test is to be filled in on paper, not on computers, as you naively assumed.Look around furtively to see who you think will finish first.

Step 15. Discover that you will not, in fact, find out your results immediately, but must wait another 2-3 months for notification of this.

Step 16. Receive plastic bound test booklet.

Step 17. Write test. In anal Virgo fashion, stress over every answer. All 20 of them.

Step 18. Hand in paper,and necessary documents.

Step 19. Follow instructions to waiting room. Avoid angering security guard who is very adamant about where people must sit.

Step 20. Strain to hear name called over general hubbub.

Step 21. In typical, wonderful, ironic Vancouver fashion, get interviewed by someone whose 1st language is clearly not English. Watch while she checks all stamps in passport. Smile inwardly as she gets distracted by company logo on business card and wants to know what a meerkat is. Discuss the weather (how very Canadian).

Step 22. Head for the nearest coffee shop to inhale caffeine in order to decompress after what was arguably one of the weirdest experiences you've had.

And wait some more...

"When life gives you rocks, make lambinade"

2011-10-04T16:38:00.000-07:00

This is the great thing about living in Vancouver: you never know what you'll get in your mailbox....

PS - the title of this post is from my very witty friend, Lloyd Majeau, who posted that comment on FB.

O Canada... It Begins!

2011-08-15T10:11:00.000-07:00

I think it is rather fitting that just before I take off into the wilds of Alberta on holiday on my first trip outside of BC (if you don't hear from me again, send a search party....), I received my notification that I can write my citizenship test next month.

People assume because The Husband is Canadian, I automatically become one. Doesn't work like that. Even though they approved my immigration application in record time, I still had to wait at least three years before I could apply for citizenship, which then took more than a year to be approved. Now I have to study hard to write a test on obscure Canadian facts (suggested Qs from friends include What is the name of Constable Ben Fraser's dog on "Due South"?). If I pass (I have to get 12/20 and have an interview with a judge), then I get to go to a swearing in ceremony, swear allegiance to the Queen, and then I believe another judge will deem me fit to be Canadian.

It's all rather odd.

Fortunately, I live with a walking encyclopedia, so much of the information in the test booklet is familiar to me, but they really do ask some very odd questions, and as usual with these things, I doubt most Canadians would actually know the answer...

And so will begin another chapter of the Canadian Chronicles...

PS - There really is a question about hockey on the practice tests... though not about sugar shacks or the origins of "eh"...

That's some neat pop candy you got there, eh?

2011-08-06T14:58:00.001-07:00

Even though I've lived here for almost 6 years (and the fact that I may have been known to use a few of these from time to time), there are certain words that North Americans use that I still absolutely abhor:

Candy. This is a cheap Vegas stripper, not yummy chocolately goodness or gooey sweetie-ness, whatever the sick comparisons you may be drawing.

Neat. You may be dressed neatly, like Paul Gross in his Mountie uniform, or you may keep your house neat and tidy, but that Batman outfit you bought is not neat.

Pop. Order a Coke if you want one, or reminisce about 80s hits and the death of music by auto-tune, but don't order a pop, please.

And for the love of God, learn how to use an adverb. It's "I like to eat healthily", not "I like to eat healthy".

Oh, and you are well, not good.

PS - I am sure there are more, but I can't think of any at the moment. Feel free to add your own pet hates in the comment field.

Well in That Case, I'll Restrain Myself

2011-07-25T14:51:00.001-07:00

Every time I see those "Baby on Board" stickers on cars, I hear a very Seinfeldian voice in my head saying, "Oh really? Well in that case, I won't recklessly ram into your car. I was about to, but now I see you have a baby in there, I'd better quell my homicidal traffic instincts and slow down. I'll wait for some non-breeder to take out my rage on".

Clearly, they are very effective.

Neighbours and Community (or: I am Spock's portable lap)

2011-06-08T12:56:00.000-07:00

I've set out to write a new post, mostly because it's been a million years since I last did, and yet I am not sure I have anything too particular to say.

It's interesting how blogging is something that is so easy to do when you start. I'd find myself imagining and writing posts in my head and I couldn't wait to set them down. And now I feel like I have to schedule in time to write and I have to make a major effort to do so. I guess also all my time lately seems to have been absorbed by His Royal Spockness (Exhibit A to your left).

One thing that has been a really interesting and unexpected by-product of dog ownership is how many more of our neighbours I have met. It's also so odd as I find myself meeting all sorts of people on my walks with him, and although I may very well find out their dog's name, I never actually find out who they are. We end up talking for ages about the dogs, but don't actually get to know anything about each other. Who are we, but the willing slaves on the end of the leash?

Spock has already become a local celebrity and at 4 months, has the whole world in his spotty little paws. Old ladies have brought him blankets, grown men have practically swooned, people have taken pictures... it's rather interesting being his sidekick... and his personal pillow. Currently, he is sprawled from my lap onto the slide out keyboard drawer, with his head cushioned on the ergonomic wrist pad I have and it is making typing somewhat of a challenge. Spoiled little shit.

It is something that I do really love about living here, though: the opportunity to actually meet and know my neighbours. We are so closed off from each other in South Africa. It's so sad that we have become so fenced in and detached from our communities. I love that I know a bunch of people on our street and in the area and that I know they'd look out for us if anything went wrong, or if we needed anything.

People are very community minded here, which I love. There is a genuine feel that people care about where they live (for the most part). I love that people are friendly (for the most part) and also enjoy simple pleasures like gardening. I also love that as soon as the weather turns vaguely nice, we are all out there manically taking in any jot of sunshine that might come our way and it seems pretty normal to have long conversations about the weather. I realise that I make so much of an effort to get out there and seize the day: there is nothing like the threat of more rain and grey to motivate one.

I was interested to note that Canada has the highest rate of volunteering in the world. I like this. I think it says a lot for a country with a relatively small population. And of course this doesn't mean everyone is easy going or happy (just ask the douche who was making a big deal of it when I asked him not to park in front of our house so that the Husband could have better access with his sprained ankle), but it does make it a very easy place to live.

I do find it interesting that despite all this friendliness and community focus, it is still hard to break through into friendships, and I know it is something I have mentioned more than once, and that other people not from here have noticed too. I wonder where this stems from? The transience of the place? People don't want to invest time in people who are moving? Something I still ponder...

However, it is still at least something to feel part of a neighbourhood... even if my function now is only as Spock's owner and portable lap... :)

Jazz Songs

2011-03-15T14:45:00.001-07:00

Endless rain on the windows. Daffodils waiting to flower. Jazz songs on the mind. Drab raincoats and drenched umbrellas coat the sidewalks.

Will it ever be summer again?

What have I done today? Or: The Joys of Litter Milk

2011-02-24T14:03:00.000-08:00

Crikey.

The day has slumped into afternoon and I have no clue what I have done besides fill the birdfeeder, read The Oatmeal, check my various work and non-work emails, and posted a pic about Litter Milk on Facebook. Oh, and finally listened to the whole of Die Antwoord CD. I mused a bit over the various work projects I have to do, have made few lists and checked some of them twice, like the old jolly bloke, and.... what else?

I watered the plants. Inside, of course. It's frikkin' freezing out there despite the sunshine, so sorry garden, your turn will come when it stops being 1C out there and when chunks of tube shaped ice stop coming out of the hosepipe.

Perhaps you can tell I feel somewhat stalled today?

For example, I should be marking midterms and completing a project for a client, but I feel totally paralysed and overly tired. It took me forever to fall asleep last night and then I had weird dreams (nothing new there, but they went on forever and made me feel even more tired this morning).

I hate feeling like I am wasting time, and I also hate feeling like I am obliged to do certain things, and I know I sometimes need a day of rest, but when you end up with that icky feeling, like you are disappointed in yourself for wasting time, perhaps it means the red flags are up and it's time to actually do some of the stuff on that list? Hmmm....

It's so much nicer to just sommer play, play kak music loud, ne?

Marking + Procrastination = Blogging

2011-02-15T15:35:00.000-08:00

There is nothing that makes me procrastinate more or dream of doing other things with my time as marking. I have a pile of it, and instead, here I am, thinking of other things, and writing a blog post.

I intentionally came to the Starbucks to avoid the distractions of home, but made the fatal mistake of bringing my laptop.... Oh free Wireless, you are the devil's work. And so here I am, stalling majorly, instead of just buckling down and doing it. I really think that marking is the thing that makes me the most frustrated. It's the time it takes, and knowing that most of the time, they don't even read the comments. And it is also really frustrating when it seems that everything you have been teaching and talking about for the last 6 weeks went in one ear and out the other.

Of course, there are some glimmers of hope, when you can see someone improve, or demonstrate their understanding of the concepts, but mostly it is just boring and depressing. The least favourite part of the job. And yet, I can't imagine having a TA mark everything for me. I wouldn't say no, but then I think it would also make me very detached from the students and I would feel like I had no clue as to whether they were succeeding or floundering. I guess the big problem, too, is that marking is so subjective when it is not a subject that has a strict right or wrong answer, and so a lot really is up to some rather personal interpretations.

Sigh... anyway, I don't have a TA, and I don't have any excuse other than being extremely undisciplined, so I had better get back to the pile. I guess I can thank the marking, though, for forcing me to do other things like write... just wish it wasn't such negative reinforcement going on...

Red pen, HO!

Salani Gahle, Mother City.

2011-01-26T11:13:00.000-08:00

52 hours of flights, 5 airports, 2 continents, 1 lost luggage... 1 woman's epic journey...

I'm not quite sure what one expects to change in a place when you have been away for so long... it's like you think the city will have been razed to the ground and rebuilt completely differently, and you won't know your way around, and will feel like an alien freshly landed. Perhaps what is even weirder than this actually happening, is that even though things look (mostly) the same as you recall, you do still feel like a hapless alien, because not much has actually changed, other than you, and the passing of time. And you keep having surreal feelings like you never really left (especially when you are driving your old car on familiar streets, going to visit friends you have known for more than 10 years and still get on with as if no time has passed).

Even though I have been back a few weeks, and the jetlag has mostly subsided, I still feel somewhat that the whole thing was some kind of surreal but wonderful dream. I shall not recount the endless flights, and the many airport interiors, suffice to say that there are things that only seem to occur in airports:

shoe shines (and people actually taking advantage of the service)
a breakfast that costs the same as a watch from duty-free
old women in Uggs
groups of pilots dispelling the myth that anyone looks good in a uniform.

Of course, for my longest flight, I was also behind the screaming babies, and right near the loos, so not much sleep and many in-flight movies later... I arrived in Joburg and was instantly impressed by how organised, clean, and friendly it all seemed. There was also a noticeable police presence, that continued for the rest of my trip (was it something I did? were they on high alert because I had come home?) that I was really impressed by.

I spent a lovely weekend being spoiled by my darling friend and her gorgeous toddler, and also managed to see a few other precious peeps who now call Egoli home. We even dined seriously el fresco at a tree stump table at a fab restaurant (ironically at Toni's Fully Furnished Pizza co) in Pretoria. A trend that seemed to continue, and become a running joke, was that it rained most of the time, wherever I went. At one point, we were driving along, and I inhaled that scent of the bush after fresh rain and it hit me with such impact that I started crying, because there is nothing like it, nowhere else. I was home.

I then spent a wonderful 5 days with my wondrous grandparents, who are full of energy and as sharp as ever. With my uncle also visiting, Irish wit flowed non-stop. My dad joined me there on his way back to SA from Malawi (where he lives now for work) and we managed to get to the Lion and Rhino Park near my grandparents' place near Magaliesburg. Sadly there are no more rhinos due to poaching, but we did manage to see lots of birds, antelope, jakkals, and of course, lions. One of the funniest things I have ever seen was watching a lioness pee, lick the grass where she had peed, and make a face of utter disgust (lips curled back, teeth bared, and an almost audible "UGGGGH"). What made it even funnier was the fact that she did it twice more, and made the exact same face. Isn't nature wonderful?
After Magalies, we headed south to Cape Town. My mom picked us up at the seriously jouged up and totally unrecognisable Cape Town airport, and we headed off on the spectacular drive to L'Agulhas, where they live. It was so wonderful to relax at home, and to see my dog again! She went totally nuts when she saw me and it was probably the most enthusiastic welcome I've ever experienced (though my friends did come a close second). I had all these grand plans to figure out my goals and plans for 2011, but instead, it was far easier, and nicer to just watch the sea over the fynbos, read books, and enjoy the company of one of my best friends (he came down to visit) and my folks. Christmas was very quiet and it was great to have a summer, Southern Hemisphere, laid back affair.

An absolute treat and fascinating discovery was my ancestor's journal from the Crimean War, and his experiences while a Royal Engineer. The journal (written in the 1840s-ish, but mostly about the 1820s) is only part I of a rather epic project. It was incredible to have the original in my hands, reading stori

es about him being saved from drowning by the quick thinking of a Venetian Prince on Malta, and his opinions on corporal punishment in the military, to the story of a stolen pet sheep that ended up being served in the mess hall, and feeling the connection across the years. His words (some sections are actually edited) are accompanied by some fascinating, detailed drawings, and it was a privilege to read. My dream is to transcribe the history and get it published, because it is a story worth reading.

After time in the bosom of my family (and mind of my ancestors), I headed to Cape Town to reconnect with the Mother City, and my wonderful friends. Perhaps because I kicked off the Cape Town leg with a large picnic at Kirstenbosch Gardens, I felt a lot more shellshocked than I expected. It was so surre

al to drive on familiar streets and see such familiar, loving faces, and feel like nothing had changed, and yet so much had. I found myself feeling totally overwhelmed and I didn't quite know where to begin with who to see and what to do. However, I managed to pack in a lot of stuff, see my precious friends (including some people who are also spread over the globe like me), and enjoy myself, without feeling like I had run around like a headless chicken.

It was both a difficult and an easy journey. I felt at home and I felt like I will always have a place in South Africa, and yet somehow it also reaffirmed many of my decisions - my life, my husband, my pace, my choices...

Of course, it was a wrench to leave, but it was also comforting, and put a lot of nagging questions to rest. I feel like I can always go back there, and my amazing friends and family will be there, but that there is also no urgent rush to get back. The grass is not necessarily greener, but it is still awesome, and it will always be my home.

So I can indeed say, after an epic trip, rather than goodbye, salani gahle.

Can you ever go home again?

2010-12-05T16:00:00.000-08:00

I guess in a mere three days, I will attempt an answer to that question. I am SO excited to be heading south for the first time in four years, and I can't WAIT to see friends and family, but I am also filled with some nervousness and anticipation.

Not only am I a little nervous and completely unenthusiastic about the 23 or so hours of flying ahead of me, I am also a little nervous of what it is all going to be like. I have been through a lot in the last three or four years, and I realised that I have developed and changed (even though some days I feel I am regressing :), and I am interested to see what has changed and developed in my beloved home country, and the Mother City.

I am intrigued to see the post-World Cup changes, and to meet the several trillion babies that have happened since I have been away, but I am also really intrigued to see how and/or if I still fit in somewhere into the picture. Is this still somewhere I could live? Are my friendships the same? (I already know some of these have changed since I have been away). Are my old favourites still around? What new places are there in store? SO many questions... and I have a LOT of time to sit and think about the answers on my way there, but I won't truly know until I get there.

I have also realised that in such an odyssey, there is no way I am going to be able to fit everyone in and do everything I want to do, but I have to make sure that I do what I want to do, without trying to please everybody except for me! Too often I put others ahead of me, and although it is noble to be compassionate and helpful, I don't want to end up feeling resentful because I sacrificed my own enjoyment.

I am sad, so sad, that The Husband can't come too, especially as it will be our first Christmas apart in five years, and I will miss my Canadian family too, but I am also really excited and so happy to be heading into another summer and to Christmas with my parents! So, it is no wonder I am a muddle of feelings and thoughts, and I am also trying to get everything done work-wise, wrapping up the term, as well as putting the finishing touches on some projects, so it has been SO busy!

I am really looking forward to taking my precious dog for a walk and hanging out with friends and family, drinking South African wine, and perhaps a cheeky bite of biltong (despite my pseudo-vegetarianism, this might be where I crumble :)

I just need to get through the next few days, the packing, and then I will see...

Home?

Anniversaries

2010-11-16T08:49:00.001-08:00

On the same day that my amazing grandparents had their 63rd, yes SIXTY-THIRD, wedding anniversary, I realised that I celebrated my own anniversary, of sorts. It was six years ago that I arrived at YVR airport and thought: 'WTF????". I knew no one, I had no where to stay after the two nights at the backpackers the visa organisation had arranged, and I had no idea what I was going to do.

It was terrifying in its liberation.

Something I find so strange about myself is how cautious and overly responsible I am (often to my detriment), and yet some of the hugest decisions I have made in my life have been big, risky, and from the start, right. I just knew with every inch of me that this is where I was meant to be and what I was meant to do, and the same applied when I met The Husband, and got engaged and married after only 7-8 months of knowing him. I had thought it all through, and none of the questions raised mattered to me.

And here I am now, six years later, piecing together the life I want to have. It has been the hardest thing I have ever done, and it continues to be difficult, sometimes excruciating, sometimes joyous, never dull.

Until we step outside our comfortable lives, we don't really know who we are in the world. And I can only hope one day to be celebrating my own 63rd anniversary, and countless other anniversaries of achievements, failures, losses and triumphs, conscience of how far I have come, in distance and in time.

PS - the happy couple above are not my grandparents.

If you are a lunch lady, your name must be Doris.

2010-10-23T14:38:00.000-07:00

There are certain things in life that are just facts.

For example:

If you are a lunch lady, your name must be Doris and you have to hate anyone under the age of 30 and have a hairy mole in a prominent place*.
If you pick up that extra glass just to get everything to the kitchen in one trip, you will drop the forks/break something.
If you have a day off, it will rain.
If you have to go to work, it will be gloriously sunny.
If you happen to have a pen by the phone you will either have no paper, or said pen will not work (no matter how many times you draw frantic scratches on that outdated take-out menu/phone book).
If you are really organised and buy all your Halloween treats early, you will open the box two weeks before Halloween, gorge on the chocolates till you feel sick, and then have to replace them when only the crap stuff is left.
If you're a sweaty guy called Harvey in an ill-fitting suit, you must sell insurance.
If you throw away the packaging and receipt immediately, it'll be the one item you need to return.
If you really need your cellphone, it'll be the day you forgot to charge it.
If you have a dentist's appointment, it'll be the one day that year you floss, as if it'll make all the difference.
If you switch lanes, your lane will slow to a crawl. And if you switch back, that lane will then slow to a crawl**.
If you take a "short cut", there will be road work/you'll end up in the wrong direction.
If you splash out and buy a new pair of fancy shoes, they'll be on sale the following week.

And so on. I am sure that I will think of plenty more. In the mean time, add your own!

*Okay, so our lunch lady nazi was Sophie, but she had an extraordinary mole
**Think the opening scenes of "Office Space".

Can you tell me where did the time go?

2010-10-21T13:18:00.000-07:00

I realised with a shock that it's almost the end of October! Yes, the Christmas decorations have been competing with the Halloween decorations for the last two months at least, but when you look at the calendar and suddenly realise that 2011 is not so far away, it is totally terrifying!!

Each day, to paraphrase Jung, we fight apathy to decide whether or not to get up in the morning. Some days it is a LOT harder than others (especially when you confuse your cellphone text sound and the doorbell ringing - happened to me yesterday!). We have our tasks and our "to dos" and in between, relationships, life, friendships, family, anniversaries, shopping, laundry, love, taking time to walk barefoot on the grass or have a cup of tea in the sunshine.....

It can sometimes feel really overwhelming and crazy out there, and I know I often (as an entrepreneur) have to fight the urge to just hide at the computer (or under the duvet!), or allow myself to be distracted by time suckers like Facebook... It can be very hard to work that balance out each day. I also find that as the weather changes, and we descend into the darkness of winter, it gets even harder! My body and brain still don't believe that it should be winter at this time of year... I fight the Northern Hemisphere!!

It is so strange to think that our lives revolve on an illusionary construct: time. We set appointments, meetings, classes, tasks... all based on something that doesn't really exist. It's weird, isn't it? I've started counting the sleeps til my visit to South Africa at the end of the year (the first time in almost 4 years) and it seems to far away, but at the same time, so soon. And I know when I am there, I will be willing time to slow down so that I can feel like I have reallly been there.

Ugh.

Speaking of time... I have a bunch of things I need to do. No wonder I don't wear a watch... I hate being bound to the abstract...

Three Cups of Tea

2010-10-17T16:04:00.000-07:00

I am so often amazed at our propensity as a species for horrific acts of barbarism, and yet we are also capable of performing astonishing miracles, to show bigger-than-life determination. A few hours ago, I finished reading Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace...One School at a Time, by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin. To be so open to the universe, to be so single-minded to help others... I could not help but be overwhelmed by the magnitude not of the task Mortenson has set for himself, but what he has achieved.

His story shows that you can conquer language barriers, cultural differences, financial issues, and move mountains. His story demonstrates that knowledge is power is bullshit, unless you take action. And it is a humbling story. I was moved to make a donation to his organisation, the Central Asia Institute (CAI), because I believe, as he does, that education is the key to overcoming violence, oppression, ignorance, poverty and hopelessness. I also truly believe that if you educate women, you see even bigger results. It is not just about being inspired by his story, but helping, too.

I want to spread the word about the amazing work he and his loyal team does. You can learn more on the Three Cups of Tea website, as well as the CAI website. If you order the book through the book's website, a percentage of sales go towards the organisation's mission. I want to read his next book, Stones into Schools, that continues his amazing story. It just shows how we can all make a difference, no matter how small we feel, or how little money we have.

It takes compassion, empathy, reaching out, and the willingness to believe in the best of our humanity. These are not difficult things; we just lose sight of them in the humdrum of daily life.

I can only urge you to pick up the book, share it, and think about how you can make a difference.

Communication and Confrontation

2010-09-28T23:04:00.001-07:00

It should be so easy, but sometimes it is so damn hard to communicate what you really mean without a backlog of emotions, old hurts, buried anxieties bubbling to the fore. Then you end up with confrontation, instead of the clear message you set out to deliver.

It's so interesting that we talk talk talk all day in and out, but sometimes when it really matters, words fail us. And sometimes we don't say the things we want or should say, and other times we don't shut up when we should. And then there are the times we should reach out and talk to people and let them know what we are thinking, and it is just so damn hard, so we avoid avoid out of fear.

There are also all those unanswered questions we sometimes have. Why did you stop being my friend by just not calling any more? Why did you say that nasty thing? Why did we never go out? Why did we break up? Why did you cheat? You know, the endless list of nagging questions that we don't necessarily want answered, but that we still wish we knew and that we can't get out of our heads.

And the irony is that it is not that hard, when you practice a little, to communicate without confronting. Sometimes the harder skill is learning to listen without being defensive or hearing what we want to hear or adding meaning that isn't there.

My job is communication, and I still find it sometimes so difficult to say what I mean. And sometimes I don't really mean what I say because it doesn't come out of my mouth right. It's a murky world.

It has to be about respect, listening, and practice, in whatever we do, and taking the time to talk things through with someone, or figure out our purpose - what are we trying to achieve with those words? How is the audience going to react, so how should we adapt the message to suit the audience? These are the fundamentals of communication theory, so why is it so hard in the "real" world?

Sometimes, too, the most important things to say are "I'm sorry" and "I love you" and they can be the very hardest to say.

I wonder why?

The Illusion of Everything

2010-09-23T16:35:00.000-07:00

I'm reading a book entitled Empire of Illusion:The End of Literacy and the Triumph of Spectacle. The author, Chris Hedges, talks about the illusions of love (he focuses on the porn industry), wisdom (elitism in education), happiness and above-all America (the context of his study). I argue we are in the trap of the illusion of everything... everything we perceive we need, are, have to be, is our greatest illusion.

We fall so easily into traps of thinking "I must have/be/do x, so that I am worthy in society and that I give other people what they want or I 'fulfill my potential'"... but how often do we ask ourselves, what do I want to do today. What do I really like to do? How do I want to feel? And how often do we give ourselves time to answer, or recognise our own voices? These voices become quiet and stunted from lack of use, falling into dumbness, because they are tired of not being recognised.

It's so easy to draw up lists and schedules, goals and desires. The Secret and the Law of Attraction tell (sell) us that if we only want something hard enough, it will happen, or that if something is not happening, then we are blocking it with our negative thoughts... but what about getting off your arse and working for it? What about the fact that shit happens, often, that is out of our control? Does a child starving in rural Mununu* deserve being orphaned by AIDS? Because he or she thought negative thoughts?

Illusions.... we surround ourselves with the right people, the right clothes, live in the right places, but what does it matter? If you scratch any of these facades, you start to see that the veneer of the perfect smile is just that, a veneer. Most people need an internal, not an external make-over, but if you are not brave enough, then how do you even know where to start?

I spent four days in a place that is all about illusions, and yet there is something so blatantly honest about Las Vegas. It sits there and says, "Hey, I'm a gaudy flirt and if you don't like it, go somewhere else. I know who I am. Who are you?" Hedges actually talks about Vegas in his book, and sums up some of my thoughts about it, especially about how Americans can experience "Europe" and still have a hamburger while doing it, without all those pesky Europeans and their "exotic" food and languages getting in the way, or having to get a passport. You have to be pretty blinkered to think that you aren't in a place that exists solely for entertainment's sake while wandering its streets, because the message is pretty clear, and really in your face.

The question becomes, do you enjoy your illusions? Or do you want to look deeper? Do you allow yourself to be free of the expectations you have built for yourself, and that others have built for you? Do you want to go backstage in the magic show and find out how it all works without being totally disappointed?

Food for thought.

PS - on a less academic note, one thing that is really annoying me about the book is that he keeps saying "reflect back"...

Absence

2010-09-22T23:05:00.000-07:00

The lack of posts is not because of any kind of arrest (we left that to Paris Hilton), but more due to getting back into reality after an amazing holiday.

It's hard to know where to begin, but what a great trip. It's hard to wrap my head about being back into teaching, and suddenly realising that autumn is on its way. I noticed the first falling leaves, and some tinges of red; my hands felt a little chilly, and the sun is not as hot as it was.

It's an adjustment, and I feel a little at a loose end, but I already have plans for making sure I get back to SA for a visit in December, so that is the next project.

When I am not so tired and discombobulated, I will write more about Vegas and beyond!

Autumn

2010-09-22T23:04:00.000-07:00

To be a tree with roots in the ground/Fat sparrows in the branches/Knowing.

Send a Posse (and bail money)

2010-08-22T20:27:00.000-07:00

I wish I wasn't feeling so brain dead while writing this... I've had a number of interesting thoughts that I wanted to commit to blog form, but too much sugar and too little sleep = non-functioning drivel in place of piercingly brilliant, life-altering observations ... nonetheless, I am SO excited because in just three and a bit days, we'll be flying in to Sin City to celebrate a rather important birthday milestone of mine, and to deaden a few brain cells with blazing heat and ice-cold cocktails...

I am overly tired, but so happy as I will be seeing some of my best friends for the first time in many years!! What better way to celebrate? Lots to do before then (inconsequential things like work and packing), but I enjoyed a civilised tea party on Saturday to celebrate with family and friends here.

The reason I am so tired is because beyond months of insomnia, The Husband has started a round of graveyard shifts, which sucks big time because A) It feels like I am living that Police song: "Bed's too Big Without You" and B) I tend not to sleep well/only in short snatches when he's not here. Since boarding school, I've been a ridiculously light sleeper. I've always had the ability to be wide awake as soon as I wake up - no matter the time, but my overly developed night senses after boarding school (which incidentally I just realised makes the fitting acronym BS) mean that any distant bang of a car door, subtle creak, wind in the tree, or small noise that is just the fridge, I imagine is a mass murderer with a penchant for Saffas coming to get me all red eyed and savagely armed with flashing steel. Said axe-murderer, by the way, has somehow managed to miracously break in without any loud bangs/smashing of glass/beating down of doors that would be really obvious to the entire neighbourhood, as well as me, asleep or awake.

The end result is that I stay up waaay too late because I am shit scared of falling asleep and being axe-murdered in my bed (that is too big without you) and somehow think that by being awake and "alert" i.e. strung out and mind numbingly tired means I will be able to prevent being chopped up by said axe murderer. Illogical, as Mr Spock might say.

Anyway, I am hoping that I am so tired, and so post-birthday tea sugar crash that I will sleep like the proverbial baby. You know, the mythical baby that actually sleeps through the night, unlike real babies. Stupid expression, really. Like "working like a dog". Have you ever seen dogs, except for Huskies, guide dogs, and St Bernards working? Me neither.

I digress.

On to Slots en Slots!

PS - If you hear any headlines about five South Africans, two Canadians, the UN, and Eric H. Holder, Jr, it's not the punchline to a bad joke. Send a posse! And bail money...

Nothing Outwardly Spectacular

2010-08-08T22:19:00.000-07:00

I love simple days.

A slow cooked meal, where you are inspired and enthusiastic to cook, not bored or tempted to take the lazy way out by eating out or ordering out. A wander around the garden. Watching the different visitors discovering the new bird feeder. Coffee and catch ups with family. Music. A drive.

Nothing complicated, nothing outwardly spectacular, but just simple, and deeply satisfying.

What do You Believe in?

2010-08-07T11:32:00.000-07:00

There are certain things I believe in:

honesty;passion;not littering; laughing till you can't breathe; helping people when you see them struggling with something; homemade raspberry mojitos - subtle but deadly; sunscreen; family (invaluable, despite sometimes being infuriating); guacamole; kiddie meals for adults; "going for gold" when you're looking for parking; karma; caramel fudge gelato; enjoying the moment instead of trying to capture it on film; music as therapy; love; anything vanilla flavoured or scented; indicating; marriages more than weddings; treating people the way you want to be treated; sillyness; my zodiac descriptions; buying fresh flowers for myself; silence; it's not worth getting into a debate with a fundamentalist of any kind; therapy; a Creator, but not organised religion; good spelling and proper grammar; the power of words (in healing and harming); a wel0made pad thai; children (they're a lot smarter than adults); a good hair cut; fresh rain; talking for hours; telling people when you love them; friends; having your own sense of style; abortion as a choice; lists; Murphy's Law; cold beer on hot days; Africa; dancing to bad music; empathy; London Fogs with sugar free vanilla; listening more than talking; patience; exploring; writing real letters; education; doing what you love; writing; money is annoying; growing things; using your talents; butternuts; reading...

The list could continue forever...

What do you believe in?

These Claws Can Turn Inward

2010-07-19T13:19:00.000-07:00

Get out your patchouli-scented candles everyone... it's time for some serious self reflection.

I've been feeling pretty rotten for a while and lately it's been a feeling of extreme anger and frustration, like a don't-f%%$- with-me-or-I'll-punch-your-lights-out kind of angry and frustrated. I've been struggling to figure out where this is coming from and some of it has been related to a large amount of admin in my life, but at the same time, none of this has been life-threatening, more just incredibly annoying. None of it has really warranted the level of anger I've been feeling. Some of it is more hurtful or disappointing than anything else, so why my borderline homicidal feelings?

I've been doing a lot of work on listening more to my emotions (they have never lead me wrong in some of the biggest decisions I've made), and balancing this out with my natural tendency to intellectualise and rationalise things. I have been working hard on trying to trust more, in myself and the Universe (*insert clash of tambourine here*) and also been working on giving myself permission to feel kak, but also not allow it to consume me. But I have realised, today, in a startling, lightening bolt kind of way, that I have a huge tendency to think of things in an all or nothing way. Either A will work out, or it won't; either B will go all according to plan, or it's never going to happen. Either I'll be happy (that shining, golden, illusive "thing" we pursue), or I will be miserable (heart sucking, crumpled in a heap for the rest of my life miserable). I have been accused of being inflexible before, which I really don't think is true when it comes to other people, but apparently definitely true when turned in on myself.

I struggle with giving myself permission to ... let go, be selfish, not worry so much about what other people think, to not always have to be the mediator, to not always have to be responsible and mature, and so I have discovered that this inauthenticity to myself and how I am feeling causes the fearsome tiger in me to rise up and show its claws. These claws can turn inward and tear my wee heart to shreds, or rear up against others in unrelated situations. But Tiger, I want you to know that today I recognised you for who and what you are, and why you are there, and I promise here and now to listen to you and trust you , but also to put you in your place when you're getting out of line. Because no-one likes a bad kitty.

I promise, Tiger, to give you permission to be yourself, and to do what is best for you, without constantly worrying about everyone else. You are beautiful and primal and most often right. I would not be me without you, and I see you, and your value. I love you, and even though sometimes you scratch me, I will always love you. I appreciate you. And all those things I berate you for being - overly sensitive, overly controlling, too accomodating to others, roaring too loudly when maybe you shouldn't or others think you shouldn't... these are not weaknesses. I see now that these are tools I can use to nurture you.

Thank you. You are beautiful.

Creative Path Series for Meerkat Communications

2010-07-17T13:06:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about creativity, the impact it has on my life, and also the frustration I feel when I am not pursuing my writing (see my previous post -Writing on Writing (A Post-Modernist Reflection, and other Kak). or any other form of creative outlet that I enjoy (photography and painting in particular).

I've decided to host a Creative Path series on my company blog, and would love to have your input. I'll be interviewing contributors electronically and posting the responses on The Meerkat Blog.

If you are a writer, actor, musician, photographer... or do anything you view as creative, whether full time as a job, or just a hobby, I'd love to add your voice. There will be space to promote your work via links, or an inclusion of any visual art you produce. Feel free to pass the message on to anyone you know who may be interested.

If you want to participate, email me: geraldine@meerkatcommunications.ca

I look forward to hearing from you.

Writing on Writing (A Post-Modernist Reflection, and other Kak).

2010-07-14T13:49:00.000-07:00

How po-mo, I know, but indulge me as I add a post about writing (or not writing, as the case may be, while actually writing, thereby creating an ironic twist worthy of Auster)... and other pleasant, passing thoughts.

I'm watching a very cute group of community volunteer kids who are busy cleaning up litter very earnestly. I am also inadverntantly supporting an Evil Corporation by drinking branded coffee. hell, the WiFi is now free... (waaaait, I realise this sounds horrendous - in a very oh sweet look at the youth of today giving back kind of way, not in the being the perve with the laptop on the patio kind of way).

I am struggling to keep up with doing any writing on a personal level, and this has added to my mounting frustration and anger in general. I don't why I feel so angry and frustrated, though I have been dealing with an extraordinary amount of administartion that has been (excuse the vulgarism), cock-blocked at every turn. Slowly things seem to be clearling up and there are some glimmers of silver lining (dealing with HR and insurance companies, need I say more?), while simultaneously trying to plan a holiday with friends from all over the show. I feel like I am drowning in a logisitcal quagmire. Can you drown in a quagmire? I can, apparently.

Writing has always been a solace to me. i've had a journal since David Hees ('s mom) gave me a locked journal for my birthday in abou Std 3 (grade 5) or possibly earlier. I write lists - oh the lists I have! - and scraps of poems, and stories, and essays, and letters (real ones, with stamps and everything)... and yet so much of this creativity has died. I know it helps keep me sane and balanced, and helps clear my mind so I can actually get to sleep quicker, so why oh WHY is it such a slog to do it? why haven't I been keeping up with this?

I know my brain is positively fried after 4-hour classes three nights a week, plus all the million student emails... but I spend enough time on Crackbook to have written a series of novels already, so why the eff am I stalling? I have a story idea I've been threshing out, but there it sits... I have updates to make on my website, but instead... nothing. Vacant stares, dormant ideas, Dead Poet's Society, literally.

I'm not sure how to cure this type of writer's block, except to force myself to take my laptop on an outing, possibly put a block on Crackbook (or go to Social Media Douchebags Anonymous meetings) and just frikkin' well do it.

Life just seems to get in the way, innit?

Are you following your passion?

2010-06-21T20:58:00.000-07:00

I know it's cheating a wee bit, coz I posted this on my company blog, but thought it was worth sharing here too, especially for those of you who haven't checked out my other blog.

I was invited to talk at the BCIT Tech Writing Alumni lunch and workshop on Saturday about using social media as a self marketing tool, as well as taking the online conversation offline. One of the other speakers, Kemp Edmonds, talked about he got into the world of social media and education, and one of the things he mentioned as his career starting point was passion.

To me, this is such a key element to success, in whatever your field of interest. You have to identify your passion, and you have to have the guts, and perhaps a bit of selfishness (in the best sense of the word) to follow that passion. It’s what motivated me to leave full time teaching and begin the adventure of Meerkat Communications.

When I was heading home after the lunch, I thought about how much I love speaking, and sharing information and knowledge with others. It was great to talk to a room full of fellow writers and also to reflect on my own journey. It also reminded me of how good it feels when you are doing what you are truly passionate about. It is energizing and also reassuring; reminding you that you are on the right path.

It got me thinking, too, about the three words I chose a long time ago to sum up what it is I do, and that are the pillars of what Meerkat Communications does as a business.

Create.

There is something about words. About how they can roll off your tongue, how they can inspire or hurt, compliment or destroy, humour or surprise. I have always loved words, and have to confess that I even love swear words. There are also certain words that I just hate. They just hurt the ears and seem wrong. I love how certain words just suit their meaning, and how others seem to say the opposite of their meanings. I love word play and jokes, poetry and prose. I really will read anything, from trashy holiday novels to serious academic journals.

I love being able to use words to create and illustrate ideas. I love helping clients express what it is that they do, and promote their company or ideas through their websites and marketing materials. It’s all about finding the right words..

I love being able to also use words to share my own information and ideas, whether it be through articles, blog posts, emails, and yes, even real letters! I am lucky enough to have some correspondents and we actually write real letters. It is such a great surprise to find a real, hand-written letter in amongst the bills and it makes such a difference from the brevity and speed of emails.

Educate.

I love that I get to pursue both my passions: writing and teaching. I love been able to help my students and give them “real world” skills, and show them how using proper business writing skills can help them reach their goals. I also love helping them learn to feel more comfortable presenting in front of others. I also use my love of teaching to help people advance their skills, in the workshop context. It’s great to see people’s faces when they “get it”. It’s incredibly rewarding and I love being able to pass on ideas, tips, resources, and anything else I can think of to help other people find and promote their passion.

Motivate.

Through speaking engagements, workshops, teaching, my volunteer work for Wired Woman, and also through writing, I love being able to help people make connections – whether with other people, or connections in terms of ideas. If it helps or inspires them to find their passion, or take even one step towards reaching that passion, then I feel like I have really made a difference, and helped motivate someone.

It is so easy to let the humdrum of daily life trick us into thinking that we have to do something. It is very easy to follow the security (I mean, who doesn’t want to live free of the stress of uncertainty?), but if you deny rather than embrace your passions, the stress can actually be bigger and have more of an affect on your emotions and mental well being. It is important, too, to remember (as a wise person once told me) that just because you have an aptitude for something, doesn’t mean you have to do it. You may have many passions or abilities that you can pursue.

Personally, I have been really lucky to have had great support in terms of family and friends, and wonderful mentors too, who have never let me feel like I have made a mistake and who remind me that I am doing what I love and am good at. It does, however, also take a lot of self belief and a definite leap of faith to stay on the path of your passions. I have learned to trust my instincts, and also to let people know not only what it is that I do, but also what I need help with.

If you follow your passions, your rewards are that much sweeter, but don’t feel afraid to ask for help, seek a mentor, network and put yourself out there.

You will get there.

Geraldine

PS – If you are looking for inspiration, you can read my review of The Career Guide for Creative and Unconventional People by Carol Eikleberry. I highly recommend the book.

I could do with a teleporter, Mr Scott.

2010-06-03T18:53:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while, I know, since I last wrote. Often it is a bad sign, but it can also be a good one, especially when one is busy doing things like taking holidays to Mexico to hang out on the beach, drink Miami Vices and celebrate your only brother’s nuptials J In between there has been a lot of work (Meerkat and teaching). It’s been a busy few months and suddenly I find myself in June! How did this happen? The days are longer, much longer. Though still rather crappy, summer does seem just within reach.

It’s been a very interesting past few months. There was a lot of build up to the trip because of the wedding, and quite a lot of stress over what to wear, getting a dress made (it is VERY hard to find something for a fancy beach summery wedding in the dead of winter!) and of course the logistics of work, costs etc, so that definitely contributed to the feeling that the first part of the year just flew by. Of course the Olympic madness added to that.

Dancing till 6am and watching the sun set and rise over the sea was utterly blissful. Several times the Husband and I looked at each other as we lay sipping cocktails on the beach or next to Latin America’s biggest pool and said “why the (*&# do we live in Vancouver?” and also spent some time questioning why it is that all the beautiful, hot places are invariably the most messed up? Ugh. So frustrating. I reckon it’s to ensure that everyone doesn’t emigrate there. I mean look at poor Australia, inundated with South Africans :0) Of course so much of Mexico reminded me of South Africa and made me even more homesick and added to that, seeing my family for the first time in more than three years and seeing familiar faces of old friends, and meeting new ones, made me want to hop on a plane right back to Cape Town.

After our holiday, we had a week to catch up and do laundry before my parents arrived for a visit. We had a great time showing them around the city and managed to get away to Galiano Island too, which was fantastic. It was so great to show them our home, show my dad where we got married and be able to share our favourite places. It was very very hard to see them go and I was definitely very sad after they left.

One of the things I learned, though, is how important it is to plan for what happens after you go on a trip. We spend all this time planning and preparing to go away, but don’t really think about what we need to do when we get back to ensure we get back into a routine that works and that will keep us fulfilled and satisfied. It took me a few weeks, but things have perked up (post holiday blues are the worst!) and I am back teaching and have a nice group of students, and have been working on projects for my company, so it’s keeping me out of mischief and keeping my mind on my goals for the rest of 2010.

All so grown up, really J but if I shut my eyes, I can hear the sound of the waves and taste that Miami Vice. Hmmm. When are they going to hurry up and invent a teleporter…?

Spring has Sprung

2010-03-03T18:12:00.000-08:00

Ah Spring. So beautiful! Hard to believe this time last year we were all flailing about in the snow! Now it's all daffodils and magnolias. And so is my mood.

It’s been a long road. Loooooong. Long. Long. But I do feel like the bursting forth of fresh shoots is all very suiting to the beginning of this year. It has already been very busy, but I am feeling strong and really enjoying myself.

It was great to have a break over the Olympics. Man, what insanity! I stayed away from downtown and was under self-imposed house arrest or confined myself to my ‘hood. Although a lot more people than usual were around, East Van was relatively quiet and away from the action. The Husband was working at one of the Olympic venues, so I didn’t see him for two weeks. We were like the proverbial ships in the night, although with a lot more grunting. Let me clarify, lest the perverts amongst you get all hot and bovvered. He was working graveyard shifts, so when he’d get home at 5am or 6am, I’d grunt and then roll over. And then when I’d get up a few hours later, I’d get a snort or murmur in return. This, people, is what marriage is all about.

It was certainly interesting to see just how bosbevok everyone went. Flags everywhere, mayhem, seas of red and white, lots of late night woo-hooing etc. I am not used to seeing such outright, vocal nationalism from usually polite, fairly restrained Canadians.

During this whole experience, I realized I am definitely becoming a Vancouverite, and clearly see this as home now, for the following reasons:

I kept thinking, man, this sunshine is nice, but it better stop soon, otherwise all these *&%# tourists will think it is always like this, they’ll buy condos, hike up the property prices even more, and move here permanently. They have no right. It’s my city.
As soon as the Olympics were over, I went back to cursing the public transport system that has gone back to its usual sorry state. (Before, I was so excited by the idea of basic amenities like working buses, and other phenomena of the First World. I am now blasé and even uppity about inefficient, late buses and rapid transit that shuts down before the average pensioner is in bed).
People ask me for directions now, and I actually know where I am sending them.

Could this mean I am finally settled? I'd like to think so. I have also been so busy (in a good way), that I think I have had less time to dwell, and have had to just get on with it. (Often a very good thing).

I have a lot coming up, too, in the next while. In two weeks, we'll be soaking in tequila and sunshine. Actually, confession, I can't drink tequila, but I am planning on enjoying eight days of sun, friends, family, real beaches (hmm, maybe not a total Vancouverite after all :) and of course my brother's wedding in Sunny Acapulco. Should be an absolute blast. And then the Parentals will be joining us for two weeks, so basically, the next two months are going to be a blur. I also have teaching, new writing projects, and will be speaking at an upcoming networking event in April. (You can read more about my work exploits on my company blog, on the Meerkat Communications website).

Phew. Good thing I have all this energy right now and am ready to take over the world :)

Idle Ramblings: An Ode to Balance

2010-01-25T21:31:00.000-08:00

We're so domestic and all and all. I'm busy catching up on some reading and blogging, while Hubby plays music in the living room. My clickety-clacking on the keyboard occasionally works in harmony with the low tone of his bass. Bliss.

The word of the last few weeks has been balance. It keeps recurring with me, and of course I know it is usually what we are all in pursuit of, but I keep having to remind myself that I only need to take things a day at a time. I have a tendency to start feeling guilty about all the things I should be doing with my time that I am not currently doing. I start to feel bad that I didn't do any teaching prep today, but then have to remind myself that I have been feeling like I was run over by a bus since I woke up at 5am on Sunday morning, after having dreamed I had a headache and was swallowing handfuls of Ibuprofen, only to find that I in fact had not just a headache, but a migraine and subsequently needed to swallow handfuls of Ibuprofen (along with other good pain killing things).

I know it's all about giving yourself permission. And then leaving it at that. Not second guessing, or feeling bad if you sit on the couch and watch bad soapies (sorry - tautology) and freakish spawners on Maury. The trick is not to let yourself do this every day!! When you run your own business like I do, as well as doing a part-time job (in my case teaching), I have to create my own schedule and manage my time. I don't have anyone else to tell me what to do or when to do it, which is lovely. And terrifying! It is always a case of balancing it all out, taking breaks, but also putting in the effort and the discipline when it is needed to ensure you get everything you want out of your work. Not an easy feat.

I just have to keep reminding myself to be gentle to myself, to give myself permission, and also not to panic or let things get out of my control.

Balance, balance, balance. Indeed.

Hello 2010! (or Roxxxy the Sex Robot and other Stories)

2010-01-10T16:39:00.000-08:00

So here we are. It looks a lot like 2009, but feels a whole lot better. I like. I'm not used to writing the new date yet - very awkward when trying to write a cheque. Or maybe I just don't like writing cheques in general and therefore have a mental block against them? Who knows?

So I came across this very disturbing article today: "Roxxxy the sex robot makes her world debut". Really? This is what advancements in technology have given us? I mean I am the last woman in the world to be a FemNazi (as I like to call them), but c'mon. Definite male invention here. Yes, there will be "Rocky" for women, but I can guarantee you, most women would want it to come not with "Frigid Frank" or "S & M Sam" programmable personalities, but rather a "Washes the Dishes Walter" or "Knows Where the Hell He Puts His Own Stuff and Doesn't Have to Ask You Where it is Ken". Now that would sell with the ladies!

And what the hell is up with this quote from the Roxxxy creator:

"I had a friend who passed away in 9/11," Hines said. "I promised myself I would create a program to store his personality, and that became the foundation for Roxxxy True Companion."

So, I'm sorry? You lost a friend tragically and it made you create... a sex toy??? Okaaaay, buddy. Whatever you say.

Man the world is full of weirdos and perverts (as is Vancouver - see previous post on this subject). It makes me feel rather normal in comparison. On that topic, I do have to share another precious interaction I had at the end of last year with another of Vancouver's finest:

Picture the scene. Sitting on the bus, heading home after Christmas shopping, doing the Metro Sudoku. Old man comes and stands in the aisle, next to my seat.

Old Man: Hello. Merry Christmas. Nice to see you again.
Me (thinking): Never seen you in my life before. Say: Merry Christmas to you too.
Old Man: What's your name? Do you have a boyfriend? You're a nice lady.
Me (thinking): Oh god. Here we go. Say: I have a husband.
Old Man: Oh I'm so sorry, so sorry, I didn't know.
Me (thinking) How could you know, you weirdo? I have gloves on so you can't see my rings. Say: It's ok
Old Man: My name is Bill. I was naughty today. What's a pervert? Do you know what a pervert is?
Me (thinking) Oh Bill, I am pretty sure you know damn well what a pervert is. You, yourself, are a pervert. Say: Um, yes I do know.
Bill: What's a pervert? I got into trouble today. I was naughty. What's a pervert?
Me: (thinking) Oh god, please just leave me alone, I'm doing really well in this Sudoku, I just want to get home peacefully and your breath really stinks. Say: Um, ya, what lady?
Bill the Pervert: incoherent ramblings including the words pervert, lady, and lawyer.
Me: (thinking) oh god, if you touch me I will have to punch you in the groin. You are getting into my personal space now and I am really getting edgy.

At this stage. I have already very determinedly returned to my Sudoku and have been making non-committal noises in response to his incessant questions.

Finally, Bill the Perv turns away and shuffles off, possibly to get into trouble with some other young lady of his choice.

Hope he has a damn good lawyer.

Farewell, 2009!

2009-12-29T13:10:00.000-08:00

Yes I know,it's a total cliche and I'm almost sick of hearing myself say this, but what the hell happened to the last year? Never mind the last decade?? Perched on the edge of 2010, I can't say I'm not glad to be moving into a new year, a new era.

It's been such a strange year of so many glorious ups, and so many strange downs. I look back and think what did I DO with all my time? Yes, I got my business going which is a huge achievement, but what else? And then I start to think of all the self care that I have been doing, and the teaching, the business, road trips, friendships, and realise it has actually been a very full year. Difficult, but full.

We're bracing ourselves here for the Olympics in a few months time. The city will be chaotic and I plan to remain under house arrest as much as possible. I do wonder what the news reports will have to talk about once that is all over... the inevitable fall out afterwards? Several other big things will be happening too - my brother's wedding (which means a mini-break in Mexico - yay!) and a possible visit from a wonderful friend, perhaps a trip back to SA, and I have to get my papers in order and apply to become Canadian! It's a strange thought, that.

A while ago, I finally realised that I am at home in Vancouver, and that being here allows me to have a certain life that I don't think I could have in SA. I mean that emotionally, economically and culturally. But I can't ever think of myself as anything other than South African. I am pretty sure I can have dual citizenship, and the temptation to have a passport that is worth something in other countries is great.... but swear allegiance to the Queen? Hmmm. Interesting thought.

I've been taking some much needed rest time and it has been really important for me to just let go, but I am starting to feel the call to action! Once I am over this silly cold I seem to have picked up, and we have fully entered into the new year, I have to get my proverbial shit together and start doing more! I have a plan of action for getting fit, and really aim to make this year one of a major lifestyle change in terms of exercise and diet. If this past year has been working on my mental and emotional and spiritual self, I need to also be as kind to my physical self.

So, you know, no big agendas, or anything...

So, 2009, I bid you adieu, with your front-butt skirts and flannel shirts, Twitter explosion and Tiger Woods scandals, Michael Jackson's passing, and Obama... and I welcome 2010 with all its unknowns and potential.

Huzzah!

Vancouver: Special Needs City?

2009-11-30T14:39:00.001-08:00

If I still have this blog in a few years time and it has degenerated into random mumblings, there is a very, very good reason. It has become very apparent to me that I live in Special Needs City. I am not in any way trying to be derogatory. I have just noticed that there are an extraordinary number of weirdoes in the city. In fact, I defy any city (other than possibly New York) to produce such a fine crop of crazies.

On any given day, while walking on the street, or sitting on the bus, you are likely to be sandwiched between the Vaguely Demented and the Droolingly Psychotic. I know one of the main psychiatric hospitals very kindly released a bunch of more minor patients onto the streets, and we struggle with a huge drug addiction problem, but what is scary is not so much the ranting guy wearing three jackets and smelling like pee and Listerine, but the person who seems oddly normal. Too normal. If you know what I mean. The Vaguely Demented are the ones you have to watch out for.

I have also realised that the famed politeness of Canadians may actually just be born out of pure insanity. And hey, the grey skies and cold weather have made me go slightly mad, so imagine being born here?? As soon as I came here for the first time, I understood why there are so many stories of bizarre murders and strange happenings. What else is there to do when it’s so frikkin cold? Have babies or murder people. It’s a tough call. I gues you could do both??

In no particular order, here are some of my favourite regular (and irregular) crazies:

1. One Sandwich Short Lady

There must have been something seriously wrong with the sandwich. Or OSSL simply didn’t like the face of the guy sitting opposite her on the Skytrain. As we got to the stop, OSSL decided to smash her sub into the face of an unsuspecting fellow passenger. For no reason. I mean, when I want to do this to someone, i usually know them and they usually really deserve it. Plus, I've never actually gone as far as to physically attack someone with food. It could only be a matter of time though...

2. Starbucks Guy

In all respects, a normal gent, SG enjoys a latte and sitting in the arm chair most Saturdays in the local Starbucks, spending quality time chatting to... himself. But not in a ranting way, in a very conversational way. He responds, he laughs at what I assume are jokes, he nods, he shakes. It’s pretty spectacular to watch.

3. Pigeon Man

One of my absolute favourites. Pigeon man has a pet pigeon tied to a string that sits on his hat or head, while he sits on the street corner panhandling. I have so many questions. Did he catch the pigeon? Did he hatch the pigeon? Does the pigeon like being tied to the string? Is pigeon shit good for your hair? Why a pigeon, not a parrot? Or did he not have a choice, being a street person? Are the other pigeons jealous? What does he feed the pigeon? So many unanswered questions...

4. Cleopatra

Behold Cleopatra. Her shimmering gold headdress. Her toothless grin. Her seven layers of clothing. I don’t even want to know if she has an asp hidden somewhere.

5. Changing Excuse Woman

CEW can routinely be seen crying or rocking on the side of the road with a small piece of cardboard, holding a litany of ever-changing reasons why she needs money. She’s mentally challenged and pregnant one week, the next her husband beats her, then she’s abused, autistic and running away from home, then she’s physically disabled. She has a cane in front of her, even when I have seen her striding purposefully down the street. I am sure that she has most likely suffered horrible tragedies in her life, but I can’t help being a little sceptical when her stories change every week and get more and more tragic as time goes by.

There are so many others. Cellphone-as-a-Hat Man, Screaming War Vet in a Wheelchair, Racist Redneck, God-Bless-You Man... and these are just the obvious ones who most likely have some kind of mental illness or addiction issue. The more scary ones are those who pass as “normal”; the squinty eyed weirdoes and mutterers and mumblers. What a delightful city! If you are a people watcher like me, there is endless fodder for my amusement (and blog). My only concern is how long it will take for me to turn into one of them... perhaps I'd better go and get myself a sandwich just in case.

S.A.D.S

2009-11-22T15:16:00.000-08:00

There are many weird and wonderful diseases and disorders out there. There are many weird and wonderful acronyms out there (why do people just LURRRRV acronyms??). However, there is something that combines both! Yes, people, S.A.D!!

To quote the fountain of all knowledge, Wikipedia: "Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), also known as winter depression or winter blues, is a mood disorder in which people who have normal mental health throughout most of the year experience depressive symptoms in the winter or, less frequently, in the summer,^[1] spring or fall, repeatedly, year after year."

SADS!

Now I'm not saying I have SADs, I know people who do and hey, I might have it, but it is pretty damn hard to be cheerful when it is dark by 4.30pm (hate hate HATE daylight savings) and when it doesn't stop raining for weeks on end. Ugh. November in Vancouver is enough to give ANYONE SADS!! There are special lamps you can buy that apparently zap the right stuff at you and make you feel better. Wouldn't it be great if that were the cure for all types of depression (hell, all types of illnesses!!)? A lamp?? Cured!

I am taking a HUGE time out at the moment. I have been feeling run down, yes, even SADS, and need to just get myself together and feel better. The year is winding down (EEEK!!) and that means 2010 is on its way. Aside from the FIFA World Cup in South Africa and the Olympics here, 2010 feels like it is going to be a momentous year. I am not sure why. Is it the stupid Olympic countdown clock? Is it the endless talk about it? Is it that I will hit a rather milestoney birthday??? Who knows? All I know is that 2009 has been very weird and wonderful (like the diseases and the acronyms) and I don't know how I feel about it coming to an end.

This has been an incredibly difficult year, filled with major ups (Meerkat Communications being one of them) and downs (various) - what a frikkin' roller coaster. I hate roller coasters. It has been a year of growing and learning, and anxiety and depression, of new friendships and dissipated friendships, of love and laughter, of pasta spoons and rockpools (this has no meaning to anyone but myself and The Baker). Is it just me? I don't think so. Most people I speak to seem to have had a very strange year. I don't know anything about astronomy - is it in the stars? are the planets all wonky? Is it me? Is it you? Who knows!! All I know is that I need to declare December the Month of Me!! (shouldn't every day, every month be about me?? I think so). I am going to practice rethinking and rewording negative thoughts; I am going to try every day to do things that feed my soul and make me feel better. I am going to try to graciously accept help and love and support, and I am going to try (my biggest challenge in life) to LET GO and trust that the universe will take care of me.

SADS? who me?

The Art of Happiness?

2009-10-06T14:30:00.000-07:00

I was just reading an article in Diane, that manically peppy magazine produced by the founder of Curves (the gym I go to), on Happiness with a capital Haytch. It got me thinking.

Whose Genes are Those?

Apparently (according to Diane) Happiness is 50% genetic and then the rest is up to us. Oh thank goodness! I can blame half my bad days on bad genes! woohooo! Seriously though, I often think about Happiness. My family has been prone to depression, and depression is associated with hypothyroidism (which I have, as well as my mom - bad genes! bad genes!), but I do also instinctively know that there are things I can do to make myself feel better and get myself out of a funk. Sometimes, however, feeling really depressed means you can`t even think of doing those things, so it is even harder to get yourself out of the pit.

What is Happiness?

I know I need structure (which is very hard when you run your own business and don't have a boss imposing a 9-5 on you, as well as a part time teaching job with varying hours of prep involved). Exercise makes me feel better, and doing things like reading and writing feed my soul. I know spending quality time with my husband makes me feel recharged, and getting out into nature and smelling the fresh air and looking at beautiful scenery helps too. But why, then, is it so hard sometimes to get up off the couch and get out there?

Interestingly, the article also mentions that religion helps people feel happier. This could be a plot by the rather obviously Christian writers/editors of Diane, but I do agree that having some kind of spiritual path does seem to help people feel more content. Is it because they feel like they have given up some control over their life to a higher power? I'm not sure. I do know, though, that in my own spiritual way (I don't believe in organised religion, sorry!), I am trying to pray harder and more specifically; and also to offer up prayers of gratitude for what I do have in my life, but I still find that even though I know the right things to do to make myself feel better, and trying various things, I still often feel lost. Damn that aristocratic family tree of mine, swooning, palpitating, and needing smelling salts.

Are you Responsible for Your Own Happiness?

Being an immigrant has meant many many hours of feeling alone. Despite the solid support from my amazing husband and in-laws, I still have days where I want to crawl onto a plane and just go home, and see my family and my friends. And yet, intellectually and emotionally, I also feel like this is where I am meant to be and I am trying to figure out how I can create happiness and contentment in this new life too. It is very hard, though, feeling like the people who understand me well, are far away. On the plus side, though, I am building new friendships and networks and I do feel like step by step I will get there. It is just so damn hard to do it all and stay sane!

This is most definitely a long, long journey. Life long, really. So I can only hope that day by day, I can balance out that 50% and feel centred and more content with life, seeing as I can't discard my genes...

We Are Both African: a Vancouver Story

2009-09-17T21:49:00.000-07:00

Today I had one of those experiences that to me epitomizes Vancouver, and makes me really appreciate the strange and special magic of living here.

I was waiting for a cab outside Stupid Store and started chatting to an older woman who was also waiting for a cab with her load of shopping (a skill I have inherited from my mother). We were commenting on how slow the cabs were, especially for a random Thursday afternoon and she told me she had been waiting for a while. The cabby arrived and had my name, and she still hadn't got her cab, so I offered her mine because I hadn't been waiting as long as her. The cabby asked us where we were going and it ended up that I was on the way to her place. So I agreed to share with her.

The cabby had to get petrol so we ended up chatting while waiting in the car for him to fill up. I asked her where she was from, because I couldn't exactly place her accent and she told me she was originally from Somalia. I told her I was South African and she did something that touched me deeply. I was sitting in the front seat and she was sitting behind me, and she reached forward and touched my arm and said with such joy, "We're both African!". We got a chance to talk about home, about life in Vancouver, about the weather here, about the trouble that Africa is in. all the way home.

I never got to ask her name.

Two Recent Poems

2009-09-10T17:27:00.000-07:00

It has been distressing me that I haven't been doing as much creative writing as I would like (including blogging, actually). and I am debating about the Novel in a Month exercise happening in November - I think it would be a fantastic way to force to get back to writing my book. In the mean time, I have managed to eke out these two poems:

Untitled

Old ideas, like a box of silkworms under the bed.
Sadness and relief when you find them dead.

and

Oh My, Ringmaster

The lions enter the room
You wear your red coat and tall hat
like they will save you
Save you from the teeth and the claws.
You brandish your whip, so puny,
and hope to keep them at bay.

The crowd is enthralled,
They don't see your distress,
Or know you've barely kept Chaos at bay.
Blinded by the cheers, and the lights, and the roars,
You begin to believe you're in charge.

One little stumble is all that it takes -
The crowd thinks it's all part of the show.
But how do you tell the strongmen and the clowns,
That the tall hat and coat, the whip and the voice,
Were all just your props in this show?

Ah, The Open Road. The Chug of the 1.6L Engine.

2009-08-06T11:12:00.000-07:00

I try to live a good life, being kind to the environment, respecting other people, but put me behind the wheel and I am an unabashed, carbon emitting speed freak who isn't adverse to swearing loudly at idiotic, brain transplant drivers. And I was given TWO opportunities to indulge this weakness recently in the form of two different road trips because someone was kind enough (or crazy enough) to lend me their car. Yeeeeeehaw!

Road Trip One:

Vancouver - Hope - Princeton - Oosyos - Kettle Valley

One of the toughest things about these trips has been some of the many similarities in scenery to South Africa. I had major rushes of homesickness as it seemed impossible that we wouldn't round the corner and be in Hermanus, or the Karoo. Very weird. Essentially both trips were in Gold Rush country and some of the highlights for me were:

Hedley: tiny town, not much there, but a spooky looking old mine on the side of the hill, resembling an ancient mountainside village.

Midway: The Husband's ancestors were among the first white settlers here. We tried not to think about any atrocities they may or may not have commited in being so, and instead checked out the cool little museum there. There is a copy of a photo of some of the ancestors in the museum and family rumour has it that the woman in the pic was the first white baby born in the area. The museum has a really interesting array of artifacts and the area is fascinating.

Greenwood: A regte egte Wild West town. Cool old buildings and a main strip that looks like something out of Doctor Quinn: Medicine Woman. Although Jane Seymour was not there, there is a section of a movie set still left from where they shot Snow Falling on Cedars. Sadly, about 90% of the town is for sale. Every bulding just about had a For Sale sign - a definite indication of the times. We actually noticed so many ranches and houses for sale on both trips; a definite reminder that outside of the big cities, this recession is real and present for many people.

Johnstone Creek and Kettle River Parks: Our place of rest was Johnstone Creek Provincial Park. Massive thunderstorm the first night and a lot of rain. This is when I realised that I am nothing more than a fair weather camper. I was grumpy and miserable and threatened mutiny unless the weather changed. The Husband was patient as ever. The weather did clear and we had a great time at the river, though he insisted on traumatising me by repeatedly jumping off the old rail way bridge at the Kettle River Park.

Oosyos: We had a lovely day at the lake and I really liked the surrounding area like Vasseau Lake and Oliver, but Oosyos is sadly a resort town - packed to the brim with partiers and strange RVer types. I wouldn't want to stay there, but great for a day of swimming. Interestingly, the unfriendliest staff at a restaurant that I have come across in BC so far - Smitty's (now renamed Shitty's forever more).

The Husband has been camping around this area since he was a wee one and it was great to be able to see all these places he has told me about, and to see somewhere different. Of course, on our way home, we stocked up on juicy Okanagan peaches, cherries, blueberries, necatarines and plums (also in a vague attempt to eat something other than trashy padkos).

Road Trip Two:

Vancouver - Whistler - Pemberton - Lillooet - Cache Creek - Juniper Beach

This time the temperatures were higher, the landscape was desertier and the need for cold refreshments even greater. We were still on the Gold Rush Trail and this time headed north (the other trip was south east, largely right along the US border).

Some of the trip highlights:

Juniper Beach: The campsite we stayed in is apparently right in the area classified as the official desert. Hot hot hot! There was a great swimming spot and the campsite was right on the Thomson river, so nice cold water to cool down (even at 8am when it was already blazing). We had the company of a nice young Dutch couple who had been to South Africa the one night and in geenral it was a peaceful campsite, if a little crowded because of the BC Day long weekend.

Hat Creek Historic Ranch: Surprisingly untacky tourist spot. The farm was established in 1861 by Donald Mclean (a chief trader for the Hudson Bay Company) and who recognised that he could make good money off the gold miners, traders etc who were travelling around in the area. He started a stage coach, too, and was doing pretty well until he was killed while riding in a posse. He had three different wives (we didn't last very long in those days) and interestinlgy all his wives were native. His kids, therefore, were "half castes" and were not fully accepted in society, although back then there were a lot of interracial marriages for the purposes of better local relations. Apparently two of his sons were bosbevok and terrorised the area, murdering constables and stealing horses etc. They were known as the Wild Mcleans. Apparently they were eventually caught and hung in New Westminster. There is the original log cabin and Hat Creek House which was converted into a hotel later.

Marble Canyon: Really beautiful spot with pristine lakes.

Savona and Kamloops Lake: Good swimming. Didn't find Kamloops the city particulary attractive though.

In general it was just so good to get away and see some different scenery, explore a different part of the province and get out of town. Wishing I had a car all the time to indulge my passion for road trips (sorry, Mother Nature).

Now of course, back to reality and catching up on (blegh) work.

Invigilating

2009-07-21T21:27:00.000-07:00

Thought I would get in a quick blog post while my poor minions are writing their midterm. I am always reminded in this type of situation of a few things:

1. I am SO glad I don't have to write exams anymore (despite panicked dreams to the contrary where I have to write an exam on something I haven't studied!)

2. Invigilating is fun, because I get to mess around on the computer at the front of the room and IT DOESN'T MATTER because I'm the teacher and I say so.

3. People do not listen to instructions properly, nor do I think they read them. We have a tendency to lean towards instant gratification and that means we rush to ask before we have spent some time trying to figure things out for ourselves. This is disappointing because I know I learn through the process and the more time I take to figure it out, the better.

4. I agree with Timothy Ferriss - the task will expand to fill the time alloted.

5. I am so tired I could start yapping like a baboon, but that might frighten the stragglers.

6. I can't wait to go camping!! (never thought I would hear myself saying this, but it's true.). I can't wait to get away and see something different, although not sure how I will cope with the 40 degree heat (and that's celsius, people). I aim to take lots of pictures and bore people with them alter. I am very excited to be able to see more of my adopted land. I am ashamed to say I haven't been anywhere other than the Gulf Islands, the sunshine coast and a little way into the province (about 2-3 hours outside of Vancouver). But I lived in Surrey, so I think that should count. A LOT.

7. I feel bad about giving people bad marks, unless they are full of attitude and I know they haven't put any effort into the work. Then I feel it is fully justified and I have no qualms.

8. I get annoyed when students don't learn my name, but I have learned theirs by the first class.

9. I can't wait to get home to bed.

10. Immediately.

A Shout Out

2009-07-09T13:47:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about what to write about today and I happened to check through the new posts of a blog that I follow. I cannot express how amazing this blog is. I don't think I have read someone's musings that make me laugh out loud and also cry like a baby.

Dr S - I mean you.

Not only am I amazed by the gift you give of your writing, but also of what you are doing in the trenches of South African medicine. I take a large exotic hat off to you and think that everyone should be reading your blog - for the laughter, the tears, and the dose of Mad Medicine Mayhem.

You Know What I Love?

2009-06-06T15:27:00.000-07:00

Those Live Chat dating ads. Yes, of course the chick you are talking to is 5'11" with a generous bosom and long blonde flowing hair. Yes, the guy you are talking to has ripped abs and minty fresh breath and carefully tousled hair. Why, what else could s/he possibly be like?

When old ladies elbow you out of the way to get on the bus and then crowd right around the front, wielding umbrellas (for rain or for shine) and bundle buggies. Clearly you deserve respect because you are old and so well behaved.

Teenagers who shriek loudly in groups. I really want to hear your stories about your friend who got puked on and who peed herself in public. Really I do. Preferably at top volume, please, right in my ear. Thank you.

Oh Telemarketers, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways... Please make sure you call at 8pm. And don't bother to talk to me in person, just play a recording. That would be very helpful.

When they play the same ad twice in a row on TV. You know, I really didn't get it the first time becasue the message was too subtle and I am not that clever. Next time, could you play the ad again? Especially if it is a political ad for the Conservatives or the grovelling GMC ad. I like those, a lot.

Not breathing on the bus. Could you arrange it so a large, drunk sweaty man with seven black bags full of old beer cans can wedge up against me every time? And then close ALL the windows. Actually, can you also get a woman with extra volumes of perfume to wedge in on the other side? That would be perfect.

Coronation Street.

Lack-of-personal-boundary-people - you're awesome. Especially at the grocery store or at the bank. It makes me feel so at ease. Preferably could you breath a little harder into my neck and suck your dentures at the same time?

Oh you smokers. How do you know I love a good round of second hand smoke when I'm sitting out on the patio having my coffee? I owe you big time.

And finally, when you ask me if I'm Australian, it fills me with such joy. Especially if you ask me if I'm British, after I tell you I'm actually South African. It's ok if you ignore my 4th generation South African roots, I really don't mind. I mean, I'm practically a British citizen, aren't I?

Bless.

Got a Lot of Nothing to Say?

2009-05-20T16:17:00.000-07:00

It's been a little while and quite frankly I don't have anything too interesting to share at the moment. And yet here I am, filling up the interweb with more musings...

The most exciting thing is that The Actuary is coming to visit for a week all the way from London! My first friend from SA (via London) to visit since I moved and I haven't seen her in... more than 2 years? I lose track. So I get to do the tourist thing, which I love. Plus it is her birthday while she is here, so get to treat her and celebrate with her.

Other than that? Looking for new writing/editing projects, working on my company website, and ... gardening! I find it very therapeutic (which is a very hard word to spell, i just realised).

SO that's me, working with the premise that 'no news is good news'.

Detoxing is Mental

2009-05-08T14:19:00.001-07:00

Yes, whichever way you look at it mental crazy or mental power, that's what it is.

I am nearing the end of a rather strict 21-day detox. No sugar, no wheat, no dairy, no gluten, no nightshade veggies, no caffeine, no poisons, no toxins. As friends have inquired, "what can you have?"Dr Joshi's Holisitic Detox makes sense though. Based on Ayurvedic principles, the idea is to get rid of acids and regain your body's natural PH balance. And sadly our diet is largely made up of toxins and chemicals, prepackaged crap and high sugar, corn syrup etc. Interestingly enough we eat a lot better in South Africa (albeit only if you can afford food) . Amazing produce, less processed crap, better chocolate that doesn't taste like pure sugar with sugar added, and fast food is more of a treat than a norm.

Anyway, this detox has been interesting and I have to say I am very very proud of myself for my discipline. I am hoping this could be the start of new healthy habits, especially as Something Lemon and I were doing this together and decided to also incorporate an Artist's Date, morning pages and something active every day. Not a bad lifestyle, and the scale agrees.

What I have realised, however, is that doing a mental detox for me is not as easy. It seems I can control what I put in my mouth more than what comes out of it. And what carries on in my head when I am trying to fall asleep. Why is it so hard to manage anxiety and worry? Why is it so hard to wrangle those negative thoughts and feelings that arise in the night?

I was re-reading Eat, Pray Love for the zillionth time the other day and was dwelling on the part where Gilbert discusses trying to marshall her negative thoughts and emotions. Easier said than done for sure. It doesn't help that I seem to have developed a kind of mental ADD - it's the monkey in me - that stops me from being able to mediate properly, but wow, it is seriously hard to let go! Old grievances, negative patterns, worry, anger, hurt. And I don't like to think of myself of someone who dwells, but I am pretty sure that I can remember every single hurt and wrong someone has done to me (from the evil girl who told me my drawing was ugly and then bit me in nursery school to the recent ex-best friend to the psychotic landlords from last year).

Mind over matter. Mind over matter. Why was I blessed with an elephantine memory for injustices but not for what I did last week? Why do I find it so hard to let go? Do I struggle with forgiveness? I don't like to think so. So what is it?

Oh Dr Joshi, you talk about constipation, but what about mental constipation? I don't think a glass of warm water with lemon will help. You offer a liver flush remedy, but what about a hurt feelings flush? an anxiety flush? That would be nice. I'm sure you could get Kate Moss and Gwyneth Paltrow to endorse it. Ah, I hear you say, if only it were that easy...

So what is the solution, dear readers? A strictly enforced 21 Day Mental Detox? I can try, as long as I can have a London Fog with real milk and a chocolate croissant too...

Blossoms on Grass.

2009-04-15T15:00:00.000-07:00

I don't know what it is... the unusually snowy winter we had? the fact that life seems to be balancing itself? but for some reason I feel totally delirious with the scents, sounds and sights of Spring. I feel like dancing a jig and while raising my face to the sun, waiting at the bus stop, I had to stop myself from singing loudly along to my iPod (Mapaputsi is still some of my favourite driving and dancing music).

I am used to the continuous flowering of plants in South Africa, and very little distinction between the seasons, but here you understand WHY the plants want to burst into yellows and pinks and blues. They've been stuck underground for months and months, in the gloom, in the dark, in the cold, and now is the time to emerge, to run wild, to shed layers of heavy coats and boots and haul out the flip flops. Ok, so I have run wild with metaphor, and it isn't quite flip-flop worthy weather yet (for me anyway), but you get the picture. The world seems full of glorious miracles and anything is possible.

When I was in Junior school, we had to learn and recite poems and I have had a snippet of one of them stuck in my head for the last week.

Old C Louis Leipoldt knew what it was all about:

"Al die veld is vrolik,

Al die voelitjies sing,

Al die kriekies kriek daar buite,

Elke sprinkaan spring"

(Lente, deur C Louis Leipoldt)

(I would translate it but it just sounds silly).

Happy spring!

Putting the Me in Community

2009-04-07T17:24:00.000-07:00

One of the biggest adjustments of moving here (besides the weather thing and having to call it a stop light not a robot) is the pervading sense of ‘rootlessness’. I’ve written about this before, but I sometimes feel stuck between two worlds and I know I’m not alone in this feeling because I have spoken to other immigrants, as well as people from other parts of the country about it. It is very strange having to rebuild your network and find your place within your new community. It must be stranger still if you can’t speak the language or if you are painfully shy (Canucks, including The Husband may say I can’t speak the language, but you’d have to admit I’m definitely not shy).

What has been interesting for me is realising that it is not just my friends and family that I miss desperately – that immediate and infinitely valuable safety net of nearest and dearest – but that I miss having a Network with a capital N. This was nowhere more apparent than in my job search. Back home, I know people. Seriously. My people could speak to your people. I could have used my network (the old school tie so to speak– oh yes, we wore them) to find work, hear about different opportunities, scout out different industries – you get the idea. So as much as being in a new place makes you have to adjust to different brands of shampoo, strange pronunciations and a lack of decent butternut, it also makes you adjust to the fact that you are to all intents and purposes ... alone. That network of people you spent building up through school, varsity, work, is suddenly not there, and you have to start all over again.

It is, therefore, not just having people to hang out with that feels strange, it’s not having People to do business with. I am finding out though, as I begin the slow task of building a Network, that often the two become synonymous – someone you have made a connection with in a business setting can become a friend, and sometimes a friend can lead to business (though I am hesitant to recommend this as I strongly believe friends and money don’t mix – I’d be interested to hear your thoughts). It is just weird to think how we take for granted the connections we make just through something like high school or a random job, and how it’s the usual case of “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”.

I firmly believe that we all thrive when we have a rich community of people – like-minded souls that energise us and motivate us and who push us to be the best we can be. I also think that (and I've touched on this in another blog post)that the more we have social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter, the more disconnected we can become because we have the illusion of being permanently ‘plugged in’ and connected. Though I won’t knock them for allowing me to keep in touch with the South African Diaspora. There is hope, however.

Although Vancouver is a really tough place to make friends (again, I am backed up by informal polls), there are ways to meet people and create a network. As Charivarius commented on a previous post, you can always volunteer. I now do (quick promo here) – for a society called Wired Woman. This has lead to fantastic networking opportunities and the chance to connect with really interesting people and form new friendships. There are also plenty of other events and networking opportunities for various interest groups and industries, and there’s always MeetUp.com.

So if you’re feeling lonely and disconnected, remember you have to reach out and start trying to build those friendships and that Network. They won’t come to you. It is hard in the beginning, but it’s all easier with practice. It can make such a difference when you start to feel like you belong somewhere and although it’s not easy, it’s worth every awkward moment and Orange Mocha Frappaccino.

Vote for me for Best Overseas South African Blog!

2009-03-22T14:45:00.000-07:00

Howzit?

Thanks to you, loyal readers and friends, I've been nominated for Best Overseas South African Blog in the SA blog awards - but there is one more step - now I need your votes!!

Please vote for me (and this is a lot easier than the nomination process!) by clicking on http://www.sablogawards.com/2009/ and selecting my blog (http://www.geraldinemeliot.blogspot.com/) in the Best Overseas South African Blog category. Scroll all the way down to the bottom, enter your email address and submit. You'll be sent a confirmation email - you do need to do final confirmation by following the email's intructions.

Voting ends on 1st April.

thank you!

Nominate Me for the SA Blog Awards

2009-03-03T14:02:00.001-08:00

Hi everyone,

The SA Blog Awards are calling for nominations and I thought it would be fun to try and get nominated - for which I need your fabulous help!

Click on the blue tag at the bottom of this post. You have to nominate 3 blogs minimum IN TOTAL (so you dont have to nominate for every category) but there are lots of different categories and you CAN nominate the same blog for as many categories as you like. Ideally, I'd love for you to nominate me for Best Overseas SA Blog and Best SA Blog.

If you are looking for other SA bloggers to nominate for other sections, I have some great fellow bloggers that you should check out:

Trinny in Dubai ~ she reinvents her name and her location!

Miss N'tertainment ~ she rocks the Joburg arts and entertainment journo scene

Mahendra's Ties ~ an old favourite, giving Ian Hanomansing a run for his money

Cowboys and Engines ~ Andy dishes on technology in SA

Plus many more you can find on the SA blogosphere.

SO go forth! nominate me! It'll be good for your karma.

x

Tools for Following the Creative Path

2009-02-26T19:32:00.000-08:00

I believe we all have an impulse to create. It does not necessarily have to manifest itself in what we traditionally think of as “creating” i.e. Painting a picture, taking a photo, writing a novel, but in the little things we do each day. I think of the satisfaction I get from cooking a good meal and being able to share it with others. Now that we have a garden and a south facing sun room, I take great pleasure in watching plants grow (almost while I watch!). Creativity comes in many forms and I think we each have a duty to nurture that spirit of creating within us, as well as within others.

I was staring at my bookshelf the other day and I happened to spy Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way. I shamefully confess I never completed the 12-week course, but have picked it up again and was reminded of two powerful tools that I think anyone can employ to add value to each day and to fuel the creative fires.

Morning Pages

Designed to help unleash your creativity, recover from creative blocks and also as a meditative tool, morning pages are 3 pages of longhand writing in a stream of consciousness no editing allowed form. There is no right or wrong, just the commitment to do this each morning right after you wake up. Cameron suggests that you don’t read them until after the first 8 weeks or so. She also explains that this process allows you to disassociate from your inner Censor – you know, that ugly voice that says you aren’t good enough? The trick with morning pages is to just keep writing. Fill 3 pages. It doesn’t matter what with, just that you do this every day and that you fill the 3 pages and then stop.

The Artist Date

Schedule yourself a block of about 2 hours per week (Heather White suggests making up a fake company name to add in to your calendar – clients will see your time is filled and therefore you don’t have to make excuses or sacrifice that time). This is time set aside for you to do something that feeds your creative spirit. It is JUST you. Alone. No friends or family. Go for a walk, visit a gallery, go to a movie, sit in a park in the sunshine and read a book, browse the shops – something just for you that allows you to relax and feed your soul. As importantly, it is a way for you to show commitment to yourself. Don’t let yourself weasel out of it. You wouldn’t break a date with a colleague or a friend, so don’t break your date with yourself. (Hey, it gives you something to write about in your morning pages).

These two simple tools are deceptively difficult, because for some reason it becomes harder to commit to ourselves in this busy world than it does to commit to others. I find that having some quality alone time and the chance to reflect can do wonders to the mood and whatever your creative endeavour, it can help you reconnect to the creative process and the very basics of life itself.

A New Approach to Creativity

2009-02-19T10:09:00.001-08:00

TED.com is a fantastic site whose tagline is "Ideas worth spreading." From authors to scientists, great minds share their thoughts.

I really enjoyed the following by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of "Eat, Pray, Love" in which she passionately and humorously discusses the idea of genius, success and creativity - and perhaps fundamentally about the fear that grips the creative mind.

Enjoy!

You Are What You Do

2009-02-12T11:18:00.000-08:00

I’ve realised that I’m really not good at not working. Some people thrive on it. Welfare, the Dole, Employment Insurance. These are great safety nets. That first little while seems like such a great holiday! You promise yourself you’ll do all those projects you’ve been meaning to do for months! [you never get round to them, by the way]. You’ll take time out to figure out what you really want! [this part is highly recommended, but intensely frustrating when you know what it is you want but still can’t find a job]. The problem with safety nets, though, is that they can imbue a certain false sense of security. Especially once they run out!

The absolute worst part of not working, though, is most often not the financial concerns (though these are highly stressful, particularly in the current economic climate). I know many people can attest to the fact that the worst thing is rather the ravaging of your self esteem. And this is no surprise. So much of how people view you in the world is defined by what you do. (In Cape Town ‘What do you do?’ is usually preceded by ‘What school did you go to?’ but it amounts to the same thing). It helps people create a certain image around who they think you are and it makes them feel comfortable to be able to make certain assumptions about you. It is also, equally as powerfully, a way in which people define themselves and how they move in the world. So when you don’t have a job - Who are you? How do you define yourself? How do people define you?

I have a friend who is a doctor. It was very interesting to hear her say she doesn’t like telling people she is a doctor, and when I asked why, she said she was embarrassed by it. I was fascinated. I think usually we assume people will be embarrassed about being, oh I don’t know, a toilet cleaner or a lawyer (I joke, some of my best friends are lawyers :)), but a doctor?? We didn’t have time to really discuss this further, but (and I make no assumptions about the good doctor) perhaps she just doesn’t want to be typecast? I think the stereotypes about certain professions or ‘kinds’ of people are helpful to a certain extent (anyone who has studied Psychology will know the human brain needs to lump information together to be able to process it better), but how do we break out of those stereotypes? Perhaps we need to take a careful look at how we define ourselves and what part our job plays in this.

In Carol Eikleberry’s The Career Guide for Creative and Unconventional People (which I have mentioned in a previous post and have written a review of), she says that “The adventure begins when you set out to develop your own unique potential instead of following conventional expectations to become like someone else.” I firmly believe we need to do what we love. Or at least create a life that allows us to do what we love. I am not of the generation that sees value in working for the same company for 50 years just to receive the gold watch. I am realistic enough to know you won’t love what you do 100% of the time, but why not aim for 90%? If you love that company and what you do, 50 years will seem like a blink of an eye, but if you are working just to be able to retire?? Where is the joy in life? The thrill of doing/creating/being something that fulfills you? We all have something that makes us tick, and I believe we are all here to fulfil some kind of function, sometimes it just takes a little longer to figure out what that is, and then to convince others they should hire you!

In the mean time, be kind to yourself. And be kind to those who are unemployed. Because it is very hard not to define yourself as a loser when you aren’t working, but even harder to define yourself as being more than what you do.

Developing Your "Techiquette"

2009-01-30T14:23:00.000-08:00

Do you remember the early days of the internet and email? We all got a handout with tips for “Netiquette” – don’t use ALL CAPS, avoiding flaming people, in general keep it friendly. Somewhere along the line, though, it feels like our technology expanded more quickly and aggressively than we could develop the necessary etiquette to cope. Unless I just missed the latest handout?

Think about how many times you give out personal information online without blinking. Or have a private conversation on a cell phone on the bus. Or make comments on someone’s photo on Facebook. Should we even be concerned about these things? What is the impact on those around us? And what is the impact on people’s perceptions of us?

I was challenged by a friend when I complained about not wanting to hear someone’s personal conversations loudly discussed on their cells in public. She asked me if I would feel the same way if they were talking to their friend face to face. I have mulled over it and I believe I still would, but what makes the cell conversation more annoying is that it is usually carried on at top volume in public spaces! The other thing people tend to forget is that you never know who is paying attention.

It is hard to say whether technology is a symptom or a cause. I firmly believe that people are being brought up with very few manners these days (just ride public transit and note how few teenagers get up for the elderly or disabled) but it seems to be exacerbated by people being plugged into iPods, cell phones etc. People play their music so loudly it is a wonder they can hear at all. [I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but it does always seem to be people with crap music taste that play theirs the loudest.] I have also had the wondrous experience of someone answering their cell phone during a movie, and when they were shushed, they just spoke a little quieter... All this communication technology seems to have cut people off from one another and made them feel like they are moving about in a sound proof bubble.

Another symptom of a lack of “techiquette” seems to come from email, and the phenomenon of social networking sites, as well as cell phones. People expect you to be instantly available. They want you to answer your phone, answer your email and respond instantly. And with that immediacy comes, in my experience, a drop in the standards of communication. When people wrote real letters, they would have to put thought and effort into it, knowing it would take a while to get to the recipient.

These days it is so easy to pop off an email and expect a response immediately. We get impatient when we have to wait. And people don’t seem to give as much thought and energy into their correspondence as they used to. Business emails are dashed off in a matter of seconds and “send” is pressed without a second thought. If you are at the receiving end, it can be frustrating and sometimes off-putting as the person comes across as unprofessional and slapdash. Grammar and spelling and proper sentence construction also fly out the window, which can be equally as damaging to one’s reputation.

So what is the cure? I don’t know if there is one, but there are certain things people can do to develop their “techiquette”. There are a lot of ways technology can work in a positive way for you (see my article titled: How to Use Social Networking Sites) and it isn’t too hard to redeem yourself!

Think about what you want to say and draft your email in Word beforehand. Only answer your email at certain times of the day or days of the week to avoid being overloaded. Write someone a real letter once in a while. And remember there are other people around you, sharing a public space and they may not have the same interest in your personal life that you do!

(And remember to sit up straight and eat your peas)

The Monkey in the Ox (or Kung Hei Fat Choy!)

2009-01-26T12:59:00.000-08:00

I like the sounds of all this! All very pertinent to my life right now.
Happy New Year!

Sourced from: http://shine.yahoo.com/astrology/chinese/monkey/yearly-overview/

Chinese Monkey: Yearly
Monday, January 26, 2009 Provided by Astrology.com

Monkey Outlook for 2009

Monkey
1908, 1920, 1932, 1944, 1956, 1968, 1980, 1992, 2004

Monkey Overview
This year offers the Monkey some opportunities to go far with your talents. The Monkey's generous nature may leave you stretched in several different directions, so it is important to stay focused in order to achieve the goals you have set for yourself this year. You will be given the opportunity to impress the right people both in business, as well as in your personal life. Don't hold back this year, for this could be one that will leave an impression over the course of the next few years.

Monkey Rating
49% (4 favorable and 5 neutral and 3 unfavorable months)

Monkey Career
Great strides can be made in your career this year. Timing is everything and in your case, time is on your side. You will be in the right place at the right time to impress the decision makers in your career. The steady Ox rewards those with strong work ethics and the Monkey will surely reap the benefits of your labor. Don't hesitate to do anything that will aid your skills and benefit your position.

Monkey Relationships
This could be a busy year for you domestically. Look to your family for the encouragement and support you need. On the same token, it is important for you to listen and heed the advice of those who care. Your social life is active filled with plenty of opportunities to make new friends. Don't forget the ones that have been with you through the rough times, as it is just as important to offer your time with your existing relations.

Monkey Health
Take note that there are several high points to your year. With such a busy social year, you may stretch yourself thin with your health. Be aware of your energy levels throughout the year, as you may need some added rest to counter your affairs. It would be wise to take an active part in your health, taking up a new form of exercise that follows your interests: martial arts or dancing are two good possibilities.

Monkey Wealth
This could be a great year for the Monkey financially. You will possibly make great gains in this area throughout the year. Due to your generous nature, you may have a difficult time refraining from giving to others. Be mindful of this and make sure you give to yourself every once in a while because you deserve it.

More from Astrology.com

Palintology in the World of 2.0

2009-01-09T11:45:00.000-08:00

"When did we start accepting as hard news sources bloggers, anonymous bloggers especially?" - Sarah Palin

Social media has exploded in the last few years. I remember the early days of the internet (yes, I am one of the last to remember life BEFORE the internet!) where we’d go into random chat rooms and tease unsuspecting computer nerds or look up macaroni cheese recipes just to see how the whole thing really worked. I may have also been one of the first to have a boyfriend that I met online. Now everyone and their 2 year old, or in the case of a friend of mine their unborn-at-the-time son, can have a blog, a LinkedIn, Facebook or MySpace profile, a Twitter account... I myself am guilty of having all five (though no more MySpace). And yes, I note the irony of blogging about social media. But can it, like video games once were, be blamed for all the evil in the world?

Sarah Palin was happily huntin’ and fishin’ just north of here when John McCain plucked her from obscurity and thrust her into the public eye. But was it the fault of bloggers that she came across as a “pit bull with lipstick” [to paraphrase a Palinism]? I would argue she did it to herself, by being... herself.

In a recent article, Palin complains that Caroline Kennedy (Obama’s likely choice for New York senator and only surviving child of JFK) is getting the “kid glove” treatment by media while she was ruthlessly hosed. Along with CBS’s Katie Couric and SNL’s Tina Fey, she blames new media and bloggers especially for all the scrutiny she faced. Yes, bloggers like Perez Hilton have conquered the mainstream media and new waves of interest have been created by the vastness of Web 2.0 (watch out, did you know there is a Web 3.0 coming? Yes! Be still my beating mouse!), but SNL has been around for nearly 35 years and Katie Couric for over 50. And how much influence do blogs and bloggers really have?

The communication process is a two-way affair. Sender – message – receiver. I won’t bore you with COMM101, but suffice to say someone is sending a message and someone is receiving it, no matter the medium. What Web 2.0 allows, that traditional media doesn’t, is a platform for anyone and everyone to have their say, rather than just a powerful, literate elite beaming messages ‘down’ to the public. Sometimes it can be an unfortunate thing considering how much drivel is out there, but it can also be a powerful instrument of change, and of getting one’s voice out there. Albeit into the millions of bits and bytes.

I am not saying that a Facebook group is going to change the world, but it can sure as hell try. I have some silly African Safari application that has already raised $1000 for buying mosquito nets to help prevent malaria. Not bad for just adding an app and sending someone a virtual leopard! I am a member of Avaaz.org that has already sent some powerful messages to big names around the world; and all I have do to sign one of their petitions is to plug in my email address.

So like anything, you have to sift through the crap to find the cream, because it doesn’t always float on top, and if you don’t like what you see/hear/read, why not start a blog yourself, Sarah?

Bonjour, 2009. How are you?

2009-01-06T19:18:00.000-08:00

Poof! Just like that, it’s a new year!

Breaking with tradition, I made a list not of the 100 things I want to do in my life in general, but a list just for 2009. It contains all the things I want to achieve/do/buy etc. Just for me.

Of course topping the list is still finding a job! It is very hard right now to sift through the doom and gloom predicted by the media for continued job losses, low employment rates etc. Putting it in perspective, though, South Africa has an unemployment rate of 23.1%, whereas Canada’s unemployment rate sits at 6.3%. It’s all relative.

Of course, my trouble is that I am looking for something very specific, so that makes it all the harder, but I sure am glad I don’t work in the auto industry! I have a plan that involves options A (THE job), Plan B (a compromise job that isn’t exactly what I want but pays the bills) and Plan C (I walk into the nearest Mr Sub and throw myself at their mercy). Let’s hope I don’t have to resort to B or C! It’s all about Persistence and Patience, isn’t it?

SO what will 2009 bring? Who knows?! What a weird year it was last year. Lots of highs and lows, learning and growth. Difficult yes, but at least I am fortunate that I find myself continuously learning new things about my Self, my strengths and weaknesses and how I cope in the snow... The year started very well though with a package in the mail with three of my favourite things – a REAL letter! Yes!! A bar of imported chocolate!! And A MIXED CD! LH, you’re the best!

In the mean time, I am continuing to write for Suite101.com (new article on Job Interview tips is up) and am thinking of ideas of some other pieces (most likely for publications in South Africa), as well as some creative writing ideas. I aim to be more vigilant about my blog, am reading some interesting material about writing (currently Steven King’s On Writing) and am really thinking out this whole process of what it means to be a writer and how far I can and will take it.

So in the wise words of SPK, onward and upward, into 2009!

Life Lessons from TCC

2008-12-23T16:34:00.001-08:00

1. Change into your party frock AFTER you brush your teeth or eat yoghurt

2. Opt for practical over pretty when it’s snowing out

3. Never live in the same house as your landlords

4. Pee BEFORE you put on 17 layers of clothing and go outside

5. Don’t go anywhere near a cell phone or computer if you’re drunk

6. Don’t engage the angry crazies on public transit, only the happy ones

7. Don’t balance a plate of toast, a glass of water and a book in one hand while reaching for the phone. Ever.

8. Go home when you’re still having a good time, but are starting to get a bit tired

9. Don’t hit your husband in the face with a snow ball

10. And finally, don’t forget to listen to your heart. There’s nothing else you can do. Listen to your heart. He’s calling for you.

The Starlings

2008-12-02T13:02:00.000-08:00

Like swarms of locusts and Hitchcock,

They descend.

Tearing into the grass - demons possessed.

Relentless and oddly terrifying,

It is hard to believe

Their chirruping so sweet.

Geraldine Eliot 2008

Photo credit: hughredcanary - http://www.morguefile.com/archive/?display=55441&

The Career Guide for Creative and Unconventional People

2008-11-28T17:04:00.000-08:00

I have been doing a lot of interesting reading while I job hunt and I found a really great book at the library - The Career Guide for Creative and Unconventional People by Carol Eikleberry. I highly recommend it for an insightful and practical approach to career changes. She has some fabulous quotes - so many favourites but here are two:

"Sensitivity to something combines the potential for a sublime experience with the agony of confrontation with the ordinary" (Eikleberry, p.32)

and a quote from Barbara Sher:

"Above all, don't improve yourself. Improve the world, so that your characteristics stop being problems."

I enjoyed the fact that this is a book that provides practical solutions and self-assessment tools, and presents creative fields as a viable option. She writes frankly and encouragingly, and it inspired me to write a book review for Suite101 - feel free to read my review and make comments.

And for anyone thinking of a career change, or entering a creative field - I highly recommend The Career Guide for Creative and Unconventional People. You can also look at Carol Eikleberry's website for more tips and advice.

Dating Albert Einstein

2008-11-15T10:19:00.000-08:00

As Albert Einstein said, ‘Technological change is like an axe in the hands of a madman.’ Don’t get me wrong, I’m as addicted to the power of the Interweb as the next person, but there was a time when I used to yearn for a handwritten letter in the mailbox. Now I yearn for a real email! Sad, isn’t it? I can’t shake the feeling that the more we are obsessed with means and modes of communication – blackberries, Twitter, Facebook, Skype, IM... the list is endless – the less we really connect with people. Of course something like Facebook is convenient for keeping in touch, especially with those you want to be able to catch up with now and then without too much effort, or for people like me that live on the other side of the planet to most of the people she knows, but I can't help but feel that sometimes it stands in for making real friendships with people. I sometimes find myself referring to someone as ‘a Facebook friend’ in order to indicate that although we have “connected” on FB, we don’t really know each other very well.

These thoughts about communication and connectivity stem from the fact that I, personally, am finding it very difficult to make friends in Vancouver. Other people I have spoken to who aren’t from here say that they find the same thing. And I know for sure that Cape Town is the same for outsiders. People are very friendly in both cities in a general sense, but I know that if I was a visitor to Cape Town, I would find it very hard to break through the solid walls of the cliques, and I am sad to say that it feels the same way here. Although people are very friendly (especially those good ‘ol bus crazies :) ), I still find myself, nearly two years down the line, wondering when I am going to feel like I really belong. I have met some great people and have forged a few friendships but many of the people I connect with have very busy lives with kids and busy jobs etc and so aren’t really up for a party on a Friday night. It is also hard not to get frustrated because I know as the outsider I have to make more of an effort and really work at it, but at the same time, it becomes exhausting.

In a previous post, I wrote about the similarity of making friends to dating and I still believe that theory. But at a certain point you also feel like sometimes you’d rather stay at home “listening to Sad FM” (to quote the almighty Bridget Jones), drinking your way through a bottle of quality red than go through the emotional wringer of friend finding. People tell you to join clubs or do activities you enjoy to meet people, but as the wise Brother of Mine pointed out, most of the people doing the same thing are Empty Nesters trying to figure out what to do with themselves post kids, not super cool youngsters that want to stay up late doing what young folk do. And of course, just like being in the Singles Club, when you are desperate, people are like bees or dogs (*insert correct metaphor here*) and they sense that desperation and run for the hills.

Yes, yes, time and patience. Je sais. So in the mean time I will keep Tweeting and Facebooking and Skyping and hope one day to feel connections that are real and true and beyond some illusory Second Life...

PS - Don’t think I didn’t spot the irony in writing a blog post about this topic...

Shamless Self Promotion

2008-11-04T19:26:00.000-08:00

There is nothing wrong with a little self marketing, now is there? I recently started contributing to Suite101.com. An interesting site, it has articles on anything and everything, from Science and Nature to Mind and Soul.

So far I have contributed articles to the travel section, Travel to the Southernmost Tip of Africa about the wonders of Cape Agulhas (one of my favourite places on earth and where, not-so-coincidentally, my parents live) and one about spending 24 hours in Vancouver, my new home, as well as an article covering Cheap Restaurants in Vancouver and one on Delivering Effective Oral Presentations.

Click on the links to read my articles, and increase my wealth and fame....

Ch-Ch-Changes

2008-10-29T16:09:00.001-07:00

You don’t have to be David Bowie or Ozzy Osbourne to know that change is inevitable. It is one of the things that keep life interesting and surprising and exhilarating, but also stressful, daunting and chaotic. Like everything, it is a learning curve. Some of us seek change, create opportunities for it, while others have it thrust on them. Perhaps it tests what type of person we are and how we choose to react. Do we hide away under a rock and wait for it to pass? Do we embrace it and follow the path, without quite knowing what is at its end? Do we give up or keep fighting?

This is a strange period of life for me. I am hovering, waiting for a change that seems slow to happen. I am impatient, even though I know it takes time and work for these things to reveal themselves. It is hard not to get despondent and want to give up, to question my choices and doubt listening to my heart. But it is also a great lesson. One of resolve and determination, of listening – really listening to what it is I want in my life. It isn’t easy. But then neither is it for David or Ozzy...

Dear Paris Hilton

2008-10-09T17:23:00.000-07:00

See more Paris Hilton videos at Funny or Die

I wanted to write to you to apologise. For a long time, I have wondered at how the world has been so captivated by you all because of a leaked sex tape and the fact that you have obscene amounts of cash. But now I get it. The more I see and hear of you, the more I realise you are pulling the biggest con since George Bush Jr and the WMDs. I am, after viewing your presidential campaign ad, convinced that you have been duping us all with your bubble-headed, party girl facade. I never thought I’d say this, but I actually think you are funny, and a helluva lot more intelligent than you come across. Of course the whole search for a BFF in a TV show, and the attempt at a music career may or may not be intentionally ironic, but well done and if I was an American, you’d have my fake vote.

Love

A New Fan

Kiff versus Kak

2008-09-25T22:32:00.000-07:00

The world is a very strange place. It seems to be divided up into people who are kiff*, and people who are kak*. And it is amazing how the kak have the ability to spread their vile cruelty and general unhappiness onto the kiff, thereby possibly rendering the kiff kak. Unless you have learnt to deflect their kakness** with humour, patience and large pointed sticks.

I have long harboured the theory that a lot of people lack empathy, as well as common sense (which is the world’s biggest misnomer). Respect also seems to be a quality lacking in the general public (especially when travelling on public transport). I wonder if there is actually some sort of invisible thread that runs through our lives where we get to choose to follow the golden path of almighty kiffness, or stumble along the ratty, potholed back alley of kakness. And if we ever get to switch sides once we have started along that path. I like to think so, but the jury is still out.

In no particular order, here are some things that have made my day, or ruined it recently:

Kaklist:
· Stephen Harper
· Rain
· Our feudal lords
· Mould
· Yappy dogs
· Huppies
· Dust
· Being on hold for 79 minutes
· Wendy’s ads
· Telemarketers
· Coronation Street
· The new Facebook
· Idiots

Kifflist:
· Wreck Beach
· Flexible people
· Hayibo.com
· Antihistamines
· ‘Two Small Men With Big Hearts’
· Employment Insurance
· Tandoori Palace
· Icebergradio.com
· My brother
· Mango Groove
· Self awareness
· Indian summers
· A letter from my mom

What’s on your list?

*Kiff = cool kak = crap
** SPellcheck’s suggestion for ‘kakness’ is krakens. I like that.

How The Universe Works

2008-09-17T13:30:00.000-07:00

I’ve been thinking a lot about how the Universe works recently. Not in the Particle Collider kind of way, but in the odd and cunning twist-and-turn kind of way that it leads you to where you are meant to be. (Sjoe, that was a ridiculously complex and possibly nonsensical sentence). The recent traumatic event of trying to find housing in this city threw me into such a tizzy that I actually learnt something about myself. Waddya know?

We thought we had found a place, but let’s just say that Cryptic Man kept us guessing via his one line emails and when he never showed up for an appointment he’d made with us, we were motivated to look at another place, even though we were pretty certain we already had one. We happened to then get the 2nd place, which is bigger, better and more value for money. Later we discovered the poor guy had actually had a real family emergency, not one of those you fake to get out of a boring evening watching other people’s holiday slides. Sadly, his personal loss was our gain. I couldn’t help but marvel at how THINGS WORK OUT THE WAY THEY ARE MEANT TO! We saw so many dismal places, and had our hearts set on some of the decent ones, but clearly we were lead to this place which has everything we want. SO all’s well that ends well.

The whole thing, however, made me re-evaluate how I handle stress. Or don’t, as the case may be. When I resigned from The Institute, I was in such a good head space. I felt positive, excited and was really looking forward to the future. We had a great holiday and then it all seemed to take a turn when we got back. I realised that what I tend to do is get obsessed with something and I worry and worry and worry. I can’t sleep, I can’t focus on anything else and I get incredibly depressed. Gone is the sunny optimism and excitement. I also realised that what I do is to immediately let go of what makes me feel good (exercise, socialising, relaxing, writing, reading) and I get really worked up about Situation X. Everyone always says ‘think positively’ and I know (and have had my own personal lessons about this) I should have faith and trust it will all work out, but when I get into that Dark Place, it is very hard to have faith. I may be slow, but I am learning. Thanks to good friends and a little R and R, I was able to shift myself into a more positive frame of mind. And of course that is when the Universe laughed at me and everything fell into place.

Faith is a powerful thing. So is trust. It is so fragile and so elusive, yet sometimes so easy when you just allow it to happen.

I leave you with this great quote:

“Faith is the daring of the soul to go farther than it can see.” ~ William Newton Clark

Desperado

2008-09-09T12:35:00.000-07:00

I am in a seriously foul mind-space right now. I am seething with rage, wallowing in depression and generally feeling frustrated and fragile. This is not pretty.

Forced to move by circumstance, we have been thrown in to the worst rental market I have ever encountered. There are several reasons why now is NOT the time to be apartment hunting:

This continues to be one of the world’s most desirable cities, hence the hundreds of people flocking here and competing for housing. Bastards.
The housing market is mental. No one can afford to buy here unless they are a millionaire, so everyone has to rent. At the same, housing prices are finally seeing a drop, so there is probably some panic, causing more people to enter the rental market. Bastards.
The 2010 Winter Olympics. Bastards.
Students are on the move because the new school year has just started. Bastards.
We live in what once was ‘the wrong side of the tracks’, but has now become the trendy place to be. Pooh to gentrification! Down with huppies!** Bastards.

So we join the thronging herds, lining up patiently to view crummy, overpriced dumps, dutifully filling in application form after application form and we continue to wonder why two decent people with sufficient income, no history of psychotic episodes and no pets can’t find a place to live! The worst of it is that our current place is great, bar the psychopaths who happen to own it and live upstairs. SO because of miserable tyrants, WE have to be inconvenienced and stressed out. Does anyone else see the injustice in this?

Blegh. I’m off to scour the murky depths of Craigslist with all the other homeless desperados. Bastards.

**Although I am sure someone else must have used this before, I thought of it all on my own. Huppie = hippie yuppy.

Whips and Chains

2008-08-20T12:10:00.000-07:00

‘It is a truth universally acknowledged’, as Jane might say, that when one part of your life is going well, the rest seems, well, a little kak. As we approach what is apparently our leather anniversary (according to tradition and this website**), things are great with us, but on the work and job front, things are strange and unsettled.

We continue to feel like downtrodden peons. The feudal lords (or in this case ladies) have made it clear we are not welcome and so what can one do but begin to think of greener pastures? And while I have absolutely NO regrets in resigning from The Institute, there is that anxiety of starting a new search and a new path... and what with a birthday coming up too, it all feels rather big and overwhelming.

I am trying not to whine, or to focus too much on the negative, but it is hard not to let it all get you down. So perhaps I will just distract myself by perusing the Internet for an appropriate leather item for The Man.

**I am guessing you now know the person well enough to suggest a few whips and chains? How DO they come up with these lists?

God. Guns. Country.

2008-08-12T11:48:00.000-07:00

I know that one shouldn’t perpetuate stereotypes about a place (believe me, I’ve had a lot to say about that), and generally I don’t like to focus on difference, but there are some things that are just SO quintessentially AMERICAN and you just don’t fully get it until you go there. On our recent trip to California and Nevada, there were several moments where I just sat there thinking, only in America...

Item: Leaving Reno, we saw the following glorious sight (one of my friends is convinced it is Britney Spears in disguise):

Item: Sitting on the beach at Santa Cruz, watching giant pelicans soaring everywhere and listening to the waves crashing, barely discernible above the shrieks, pings, and flashing lights of the giant amusement park RIGHT ON THE BEACH BOARDWALK.

Item: Walking around a replica of a 12th century Italian castle built in the Napa Valley by someone with too much money and too much time.

Item: Hungrily consuming cheese enchiladas, broccoli, spring rolls and other odd assortments at Toucan Charlie’s All You Can Eat Buffet at Atlantis Casino Resort (in itself something that felt very stereotypically American) and seeing a guy, without irony, wearing a shirt that said God Guns Country.

God Bless America.

Damn you, marksmith! (or less aggressively this could be titled 8 things about ME!)

2008-07-17T19:22:00.000-07:00

There were no plans to have another post until AFTER upcoming exciting trip to California and Nevada, but I can’t resist a challenge... Damn you, marksmith, and your cold medication!

In joining the meme revolution, I reveal 8 things you may not know about me...

1. I have a complete phobia of wait for it... BELLY BUTTONS. I am sure it must be some deep-seated Freudian mother issue. I can’t stand looking at other peoples’ wormholes, even writing about it makes me feel icky, and despite my husband’s attempts at conditioning therapy, they still freak me out. I think it’s to do with how it feels when you touch it, so when I see other people touching theirs, I get that weird feeling and I totally wig out.

2. I get really panicky if I am pulling a shirt over my head and it gets stuck. Or if I am trying on a shirt and it is too tight, I get really freaked out, like I am going to suffocate and die and they’ll find me half naked in the change room under those ugly, unflattering bulbs and mirrors.

3. When I was young and people asked me where I got my red hair from (my mom is blonde, my dad is dark-haired), I’d tell them it was from the Dairy Maid man... boy has my mom got some explaining to do!

4. I hate weirdly textured foods like raw tomato and watermelon.

5. I broke my nose when I was in Sub A at my brother’s cub scouts den (or whatever the hell those twisted freaks called it) on the day they were doing their First Aid Badge. The Arkayla (Head Freak) said it was just a bruise, but in about 5 minutes I looked like Barbara Streisand with a sinus allergy and had broken it clean across the bridge. It is still sensitive today. And I hope she has not been allowed to medically treat ANYONE. EVER.

6. I went to Sunday School with Trevor Immelman and had a crush on him. Probably not what the Methodists were aiming for.

7. I have a terribly poor ‘mid-memory’. I can remember things photographically (though I didn’t have your Latin teacher, Mark) for exams etc and I can remember our phone number from when I was a kid, but I can read books or see movies over and over again because I can’t remember what happened in them.

8. When I was seven I wrote in this ‘Me’ book my parents gave me(to record everything about ourselves) that in the future I was going to live in Canada. Apparently my seven-year old self was psychic.

I now challenge you all to leave me a comment of some little known fact about YOU!

Touch Tomorrow (Or On-Holdism)

2008-07-14T20:31:00.000-07:00

(Image stolen from here)

As I type I am enjoying some quality classical music courtesy of Expedia. I am not sure if I am still ‘in line’, if they are really thanking me for my patience sincerely, or if the jaded Britney-Spears-microphone-wearing call centre mule in downtown Mombasa is taking a smoke break and purposely leaving me here to start going slightly crazy. Oh my god. I swear I just heard them change the CD! Being on hold is one of the most mind numbingly boring things to experience, but I must say, no one does it like Telkom, South Africa’s telephone “service” monopoly, and you know when you call them you should settle down with your Verimark footspa, a large cocktail and several very hard Sudoku puzzles. Weirdly, I do miss those pan pipes. Doo doo doo doo de doo doo, da da da da de doo da. Roberto would be so proud.

One of the funniest things about the automated systems here is that they very often can’t understand my accent. Especially my cellphone service provider, Fido. For some inane reason they have programmed the voice recording to seem as if it is a real person. Apparently her name is Andrea and she would be a total slut if she was real because it seems that with her, no means yes. She also permanently wants to try and change my airtime rate, even though I don’t want her to. Wilful cow.

Oops. Momentarily flustered as friendly call centre lady just answered. However, I am back on hold because she couldn’t answer my question. Or she needs another cigarette. Yipee. Now I get to phone ANOTHER toll free number. I wonder what music they have? Ooooh, to ensure I have a great experience, the call may be recorded. So what did they do to people before they started recording calls? Make them cry? And why has Alaska Airlines employed a monkey with a Casio for their on hold music? Apparently they will answer my call in THREE minutes. That’s if I don’t take some Valium and accidentally drop the phone without noticing first...

Zzzzzzz.

PS - Look out for new posts after our trip to California, and in the mean time, share your exciting on hold stories!

Old Farts in the New World

2008-07-04T15:01:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I am really embarrassed to be a South African living abroad. There is a reason why I have avoided joining any kind of Saffa ex-pat organisation. I don’t want to sit around and talk about ‘the good old days’ or how ‘the blacks have taken over and screwed up the country’ over my imported boerewors and Mrs Balls chutney. I left South Africa for such different reasons to those who fled in 1994 fearing some kind of civil war, and I have such a different view of home that it makes me throw up a little in my mouth when I hear such bollocks.

Exhibit A:
While showing our friend KM around, we ended up next to a table of South Africans at Lynn Canyon. They have been living on the Island (in Victoria**) for eight years now. They were asking KM and I how long we’ve been here and were extolling the virtues of Victoria because it is like England with better weather, and Old Fart says, ‘Oh, you’re not going back to AAaafrica, I hope.’ AFRICA? Has he already been indoctrinated into thinking Africa is one amorphous mess (see previous post on this very topic)? What made me gag was how certain he was that just because we are two white young South Africans overseas, we’d agree that it is such a hell hole we’d never want to go back.

It got better. Old Fart swiftly made gaffe number two. KM was explaining that she lives in the Armpit of the World in rural Alberta and OF turns to her and says, ‘Oh, your husband must have a job there.’ I nearly snorted water out my nose at him. In retrospect, I should have. KM rather patiently explained that she is in fact a qualified doctor and hopes to return to Cape Town as it is her home, and is far, far more spectacular than said Armpit. That shut him up.

How goddamned patriarchal and snobby and racist all in one! Yes, yes, I know, there are idiots everywhere, but it makes me very sad when I encounter people like this. Get a grip! It’s 2008. We aren’t living in Boksburg in the 1950s, for crying out loud. And thank goodness Old Fart and family reside in Victoria, because South Africa certainly doesn’t need cretins like them ruining the local flavour and souring the Mrs Balls.

**Bearing in mind this is where people go to die

Catfish, Lions, Midgets, OH MY!

2008-07-02T13:03:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I just love the kinds of news headlines I see on Yahoo when I log in to my email.

‘Huge Catfish Chokes to Death on Soccer Ball’

This is serious news, people. It could spark an international incident. Said Dead German Catfish was found with a blue and white ball in its mouth... Could it be a terrorist attack by the Greeks? Or was it some crazed Euro Soccer fan who swore off The Beautiful Game forever after Germany lost and tossed his/her ball into the murky depths of the canal? I think a more important question that should be raised is - how the hell did a 2-metre long catfish end up in a Bavarian canal? German police are investigating, thank goodness!

‘”Mini Me” Actor’s Sex Tape To Be Reposted Online’

Excellent news! I am so sad I missed it when it first hit the Internet. Honestly, what is the fascination with Little People sex? Are people curious to find out if their small stature equals small appendages? (incidentally, our doctor friend assures us that with his type of ‘littleness’, he will be in proportion). I have yet to read the article to find out why they decided to repost it. Fans have complained? His career needs a boost (look what it did for Paris Hilton)? He’s sick of doing Mike Myers movies? He took The Love Guru hype too far? Who CARES!

‘Golden Eagle Falls Prey To Lioness At Vancouver Zoo’

Good to know the lion’s instinct is still intact, but what made this article hilarious is that the opening lines of one publication’s article began with ‘Two children are recovering after witnessing a lioness kill a Golden Eagle at the Vancouver zoo.’ Shame. Haven’t they watched The Lion King? It’s the circle of life man. And how different to the kinds of headlines and articles we get back home.

I love Canada.

Hakuna Matata PART II

2008-06-26T10:05:00.000-07:00

In the criminal justice system, as created by Dick Wolf, it seems perfectly acceptable to make up crap, thereby perpetuating the very stereotypes I was bitching about in the previous post.

I was watching Law and Order last night and the plot was loosely based around Madonna’s adoption of David Banda from Malawi. In a nutshell, female celebrity adopts African baby to boost her publicitiy... the funny thing is, the fictional celebrity adopted her baby from.... Mununu... a FICTIONAL African country!!! As my husband commented, you couldn’t get away with making up a country from any other continent but Africa.

I mean, COME ON. L&O always has a giant disclaimer that the events and characters are fictional blah blah, but I mean really, they couldn’t use one of the other 52 remaining countries? It’s not like Madonna would sue them if they used Mozambique or South Africa instead of Malawi. This is what I am talking about when I say the media is to blame!

Dear reader, when will it end? As KM says, 'Amandla Ngawethu!'

Hakuna Matata

2008-06-24T13:43:00.000-07:00

FYI: there are FIFTY THREE countries in Africa. Count them. It is the world’s second largest continent, and also the second most populated after Asia. Did you spot the mystery word? Yes! Prizes for those who identified the word CONTINENT in that sentence. Not to be confused with country.

I blame CNN. Who wouldn’t? Seriously though. Have you ever watched a CNN weather forecast? The neatly dressed fully-certified broadcast meteorologist (weather girl is so un-PC) smiles gaily and gesticulates in the general direction of the Sudan and says, ‘Africa will be hot today.’ AAAARG! No wonder people think Africans are all black, speak the same language and dance around in furs (when they aren’t hitching a ride on an elephant to get to the battlefield/drum circle). A great story my mom tells is when she was young she had a pen pal from Australia and the girl asked her some very silly questions about life in South Africa. So my mom went and got a postcard of some bare breasted Zulu maidens in front of a hut and wrote on the back, ‘this is me and my family in front of our home’. Needless to say, she never heard from her pen pal again.

Now most Canadians don’t wear plaid, say ‘oot and aboot’ or live in igloos (sorry to shatter the illusion), and most Americans aren’t dumb and loud. Most Italians aren’t lewd and members of the Mafia. You see my point. I not only blame CNN, but the media in general. I mean, I know that borders and countries change in Africa a lot, but how come when you read an article about somewhere in Europe, they always mention the country and the city? People talk about going to Africa (and it’s pronounced ‘AAAhfricka’ here), forgetting it covers about 6% of the Earth’s surface, and that you might want to be a little more specific than that.

Sadly, what one tends to see here a lot on TV are those bleeding heart, 'sponsor an African child' ads, where some B-Grade celebrity manhandles starving African children with flies on their noses and kwashiorkor bellies. Now I am fully aware that there are wars, genocides, starvation, disease and all the other cheerful things in the world stalking many parts of my great continent, but there are also industrious, prosperous cities, world-class tourist resorts, intelligent, self-serving citizens and an extreme variety of flora, fauna and ... modern amenities!

I was watching The Lion King this morning (Disclaimer: I am sick, and therefore am perfectly entitled to stay in my PJs all day watching Disney films) and seeing as I have years of critical analysis study behind me, I couldn’t help but look a little deeper behind the perky animation and the catchy beat of Hakuna Matata. Why do they all have American accents, EXCEPT for the baboon? How is it that they live in a place that looks like Tanzania (Kilimanjaro seems to make an appearance at the beginning), but they also have rolling sand dunes (Sahara?), jungle (the Amazon?), plus the more correct savannah? Amazing! I know, I know, it’s a kid’s movie, but there is no JUNGLE in Africa. Sub tropical and tropical rainforest, yes, but you don’t get lions there. And there are no tigers in Africa. And no bears, either.

I could go on and on. I won’t even go into the Zimbabwe crisis and how the world (and I won’t excuse South Africa from this) has been ignoring it until now. I won’t mention the Always Ultra ad that talks about a girl from a village in Southern Africa (which of the 5 or so countries could she be from??)... You read lists of places where people will talk about friends they have made in France, China, Delaware, Africa... How do we leap from states to countries to continents? And my personal favourite is when people ask me where I am from and then I see the cogs churning in their brains and I can almost hear them say ‘But she is white, how can she be from Africa?’ and then I ask them, ‘Have you heard of apartheid?’. ‘Yes, yes, we studied it in school.’ So what was that all about? Yes. There had to be some white people around to, you know, oppress the masses.

So spread the word, people. Africa is in fact a continent, made up of a diverse range of radically different places, from Egypt to Ethiopia, Libya to Lesotho, Namibia to Nigeria. And remember, Africa will also be hot today. Hakuna Matata.

What is bad news for Australia is good news for America!

2008-06-20T17:57:00.000-07:00

Breath a little easier (if you can), America. No longer are you the biggest and best! Australia has taken over as the country with the most obese adults in the world! According to news reports, 26% of Australian adults are obese, a WHOLE percentage more than those in the US. Worried experts are apparently recommending ‘extreme measures’. I gasped when I heard this. Are they going to burst into fast food restaurants and arrest anyone eating a cheeseburger? Will they start herding the slightly overweight to the morbidly obese into ships and push them out to sea? No! Thank god! All they are suggesting are discounted gym rates...

The Guiding Hand of Fate. And Stephen Watson.

2008-06-18T19:30:00.000-07:00

It all started with Stephen Watson. Doesn’t every good story? I was chatting to him about my impending move to Vancouver, November 2004. He handed me a book of his poetry and a number of an ex-roomie/possibly ex-lover from the starving-artist-in-a-garret days of Cambridge. His starving artist days, not mine. I have never been to Cambridge, and I’m more of an Oxford Man myself. I arrived one cold evening at YVR International, after 10 days exploring Londres with Young Jon, only somewhat terrified at the fact that I had rocked up in a strange country on the opposite side of the globe and didn’t quite know what the hell I was going to do for a year. It was cold. I found my way to the backpackers (predictably loud, pulsing with hormones and Australians) and soon mild panic erupted into Oh My God What The Hell Was I Thinking? It’s a bit of a blur, really, that first week, but I found a coffee shop that served rooibos, met a cool Aussie girl, got a rock hard piece of bread dropped on my head by a seagull, got good advice from Steve K, frantically job searched, and one day looked up and saw the snow on the peaks of the North Shore mountains, the imprint of small maple leaves on the pavement and somehow knew it was going to be okay.

Stephen’s book was carefully tucked away in my suitcase; I figured, I’m desperate and lonely, why shouldn’t I call her up? We arranged to meet on Burrard Street – I remember looking at a sign board that said it was 0°C. She picked me up in her Merc (I scanned for the right number plate) and off we headed to her neck of the woods in Point Grey, out near the UBC. Her daughter had to go to the doctor, so I wandered around 10th Avenue, heading for a bookstore. There was a power failure and we had to leave the store. I suddenly noticed a Help Wanted sign. Finally, something I could do with an MA in English; sell books. Yes, a note of cynicism, but as an aside, I’ve had my humbling moment of filling in my MA on a Domino’s Pizza application form. They never called me. Anyway, S and I had butternut soup at a restaurant owned and run by South Africans, got acquainted. It was nice to talk to someone who had visited South Africa and also who had some vague connection to someone I sort-of knew. We grab onto anything we can, in times of loneliness. And she was lovely, as is her family who I later met.

This meeting led to my seasonal job at the bookstore. I found a place to stay in Surrey and was traveling nearly 2 hours there and back, but it was fun. The Christmas rush. And this is where the story starts to get interesting.On my lunch break, I decided to check out a store across the road that a co-worker had told me about. I needed a jacket suitable for the weather. The girl who worked there and I started chatting, had an instant click. We met again on the bus and as the season wound up and my job was coming to an end, I visited her before I was leaving and, feeling somewhat stalkerish, got her number. The first time we were supposed to hang out was a Tsunami relief show at the same restaurant I had been to with S. Technology failed us. I missioned there from Surrey, didn’t realize that smsing/texting was, back then, a relatively unknown concept here and then when I tried to call her, no reply. I paid my $10 anyway and went in, couldn’t find her, so left. We both thought we’d been stood up. Fortunately the next time we got together (Deux Soleil, I think it was, and a romantic trip to Safeway) was a lot smoother. Very rarely one meets someone who feels so familiar, like you have known them forever. I had my first Canadian friend.

In January, W was staying with me and it was D’s birthday – I hadn’t been to her place yet and I don’t think I had met her boyfriend yet so off W and I went. There were a couple of other people there besides us and we ended up playing this board game called the Game of Life. I sat next to this boy with a nervous giggle and beautiful eyes who asked me interesting questions about South Africa and who picked the Rockstar card in the game. We had some drinks, made up the rules of the game as we went along and in general, it was a good party. When D and I were doing our post-party analysis a while later, we happened to start talking about the boy with the nervous giggle. Ethan. She told me she’d love to set him up with someone; I told her I thought he was cute. That night, I got a phone call. It was D, sounding rather sheepish, telling me she had told him I was interested and asking if she should organize a little get together for us to get to know each other. This was after she had explained to him that W and I weren’t a couple.

A week later, I was sitting on D’s couch, drinking heavily in anticipation of Ethan’s arrival. For most of the night it was just the three of us and then D and J joined us later. Poor Ethan. Every time he went to the kitchen, D pounced and asked if he was going to ask for my number. And he did. That endearing nervous giggle, a tiny phone book and pencil stub and some suitably awkward ‘I’m always looking for new people to hang out with’ kind of line. I waited until the Wednesday and he still hadn’t called, so I called him. We arranged to go out on the Saturday night after he’d finished work. Toby’s on the Drive. Sometime around 2am, I realized I had missed the last Skytrain home. I made a lame suggestion about catching a cab (not that I could really afford the $60 to get back to Surrey). Very non-lecherously, he said I could stay at his place. Very lecherously, I agreed. We walked back in the cold from the pub and I remember my feet were hurting. I was wearing sexy shoes, not practical ones. Our first kiss was while lying on the floor playing with the cat. The next day he called in sick for work and D had been phoning my house looking for me but didn’t want to ask my room mates if I had come home or not. 11 February 2005.

In August, we were camping on Newcastle Island. It was a glorious summer and other than fighting off vicious raccoons, an idyllic long weekend. Before we left, I knew I had to talk to him about what we were going to do. I had three months left before I had to leave and I was not about to let him slip away. I have done the long distance thing and it wasn’t pretty. I just didn’t want to freak him out. I had no idea he was thinking along the same lines as me. We were sitting reading our books and somehow got to talking about me leaving. We were in tears, hugging, panicking and suddenly I said to him, ‘I want to ask you something but I don’t want to freak you out’. He said to me, ‘I want to ask you something’. Laughing and crying, we proposed to each other and in total wonder, woke up the next day realizing we were seriously engaged. There was the small factor of my parents not having met him and us only having dated for about 7 months. Somehow, we got through telling everyone, broke the news, caused a few minor strokes across the world and thought what the hell, why wait?

On the 3 September 2005, I was walked down the beach at Spanish Banks by my brother and when I caught a glimpse of Ethan’s smile, it confirmed every feeling I had that this was the easiest thing I had ever chosen to do in my life and that I could not be happier. It was an unbelievable day. My only regret was that my father and my friends from home could not be there, but we were not wanting for caring friends and family.

It has been a long path from there; we went back to South Africa for a year and a half and have now been back in Vancouver for over a year after a long and torturous visa process. Let’s not even go into FedEx losing/stealing my passport as it was on its way to the Embassy in Pretoria… After three and a bit years, it has hit me that finally I am going to be in this same place for the near future. Somehow that is more scary, in a way, than the transience of the last three or so years. I have to figure how I want to put down my roots, what kind of work I want to do, where we should live. It’s going to be a journey. And to think it all started with Stephen Watson. I guess any story that begins that way, must end well.

Loose, Footloose

2008-06-17T20:50:00.000-07:00

There has been a disturbing continuing news story here in BC – a deepening mystery involving the gruesome discovery of four severed right feet, all with socks and running shoes still intact, all found on different island shores at different times. Today, breaking the unsettling trend was the discovery of a severed LEFT foot. Now, I know I may watch a bit too much Bones and CSI, but surely someone must be, uh, missing said feet? There has apparently been no evidence of foul play and the general theory is that the dismembered feet have washed down the Fraser Valley. I can’t help but theorise about foot fetishists, over eager joggers and careless morticians. It is all very confusing, and a podiatrist’s nightmare.

While on the subject of news, I LOVE watching A Channel news – fresh from Vancouver Island. They cover hot topics like the overbreeding of bunny rabbits on the University of Victoria grounds, and randomly interrupt programs to award some Island kid who managed not to succumb to drugs, a $1000 scholarship... in order to get a kick start into those drugs? It is such a refreshing change from the horror stories back home. Of course there is the fair share of crime and mayhem here and there has been a large increase in gang-related shootings, but there are still news stories about baby birds nesting at the CBC offices, and about a duck getting rescued from the ice. It makes it all feel so ... quaint and provincial. Especially when I hear stories from our doctor friend in Nowheresville, Alberta, who has had to treat a patient for, and I do not exaggerate, a paper cut. Yes, people, a paper cut. One of the lesser known fatal injuries.

I love Canada.

PS- Update! A SIXTH foot has now been found, adding to the mystery!

PPS- This was found to be a fake! Some deranged sicko put an animal paw in a shoe as a hoax!

Testing, testing...

2008-05-31T17:20:00.001-07:00

One of the interesting aspects of moving to a different country is how you find yourself tested. Fundamentally, your core strengths are tested, and your weaknesses are revealed, but ultimately, I find that with most people, you realise you are a lot more resilient than you give yourself credit for. It is no mean feat to up and move from a place where all is familiar and where you have history, to somewhere where you have to explain yourself, start over, jump in the deep end... One of the hardest aspects of this is making new friends.

Steve and I had this conversation once where we discussed how making friends is just like dating. You meet someone, you like them, you want to ask for their number, but you are too embarrassed. If you get a number, you wonder how long you should wait to call. And you feel like you have to have an excuse, some event lined up or outing planned to include the person in, so that you don’t come across as marginally desperate or possibly psychotic. It is a fine balance. So finally you work up the courage, go for coffee, but how do you then get The Second Date? It is exhausting. As Steve commented, you almost want a snog out of it at the end of the night, because it’s been such an effort! This may seem like an exaggeration, but it is really hard to start out again at this stage of life, looking for a set of good, close friends when you already have a fabulous group of those at home. I find that one of the things I miss most from being away is the ability to just call up a girlfriend and say ‘hey! Let’s go for coffee’. And there is no explanation needed of who I am, why I’m here, what I do etc to go through.

That being said, it is sometimes rather liberating to be somewhere where no one has any preconceived ideas or perceptions of who you are and how you act. It is very freeing to be able to just be. There are no obligations to certain people or things you have to go and do, even though you would eagerly volunteer for a lobotomy rather than having to put yourself through the ordeal. I have also found it has made me somewhat bolder in getting in touch with people who are friends of friends, or random acquaintances, and you soon realise that sometimes when we get set in our ways with our existing groups, we miss out on opportunities to meet fabulous other people.

I understand it takes some time to settle in, find a niche, feel more at home, and things are definitely looking up, but it is also a long, slow, process. Now the next test I just need to get through is for my BC Driver's Licence!

Let's talk about the weather

2008-05-25T15:57:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's true. Canadians do seem to talk about the weather. A lot. To be fair, there is also a lot of action to go along with all that talk.

Something that I have realised from gaining a little distance and perspective is that us South Africans complain about the weather all the time. It can be glorious, sunny, a mild 25 degrees (Celsius for the foreigners) and your average Capetonian will be bitching because of the wind. Seriously. The wind. I have come to appreciate the temperate climate and generally warm weather we enjoy there so liberally, so much more! How I regret days spent not doing something because it wasn't quite perfect! Here, it stops raining for about 30 seconds and everyone runs around like crazed ants. (Actually, if you waited for it to stop raining in Vancouver to go outdoors, you'd be a pale, Vitamin D deprived hermit).

What I love about living here is that people are much better at getting out and DOING things. Hiking, going to the beach (which in my opinion are not real beaches - logs? fake imported sand? what is this hogwash?!), hanging out at the lake, walking, eating, biking, picnicking, festivals, parades, concerts... you name it. And there is no waiting around for something better to come along.

I also love the fact that there are defined seasons. So, as long as the winter is (and snow has its own novelties), spring really feels like this mad time of regeneration, new beginnings, fresh energy and of course, the resulting offspring of various creatures. Christmas feels more, well, Christmassy, and summer is gorgeous and hot. In Vancouver we are lucky because as much as I freeze here, we don't get the ridiculous, true Canadian winter like the rest of the country.

And like all true-isms, if it weren't for the rain, we wouldn't live in a rain forest.

I wear my accent like a badge

2008-05-14T08:59:00.001-07:00

It shows I am different, I am not from here. So it saddens me when I find myself pronouncing words like a Vancouverite. Well, I guess that is a contradiction in terms because what it means to be a Vancouverite is a complex and multifaceted thing.
I'd like to share some facts about the population and structure of Vancouver and what is known as the Lower Mainland:

The city of Vancouver was founded in the 1880s and was named after Captain George Vancouver
The city of New Westminster is older and dates back to the 1860s - it was the original (white) settlement and the first capital of the British colony that became the province of British Columbia
The Lower Mainland is the area around Vancouver, comprising of several different municipalities/cities such as Surrey where I lived when I first came to the West Coast
Roughly 55% of the population in Vancouver was born outside of Canada
According to Wikipedia, 52% of city residents and 43% of the LM residents have a first language other than English
Some of the biggest immigrant populations come from China, the Philippines, Vietnam, Korea, Japan, India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, El Salvador, Mexico, Ethiopia, Somalia etc.

When I get on the bus, or walk down the street, I am more likely to hear Punjabi or Cantonese, than French or English. There is a reason it is called 'Hongcouver'... However, what some people (locals included) forget or don't know, is that many of the so-called immigrant population have been here longer than than many of European descent. (The local First Nations groups are a whole other tale for another time). Much of the railway in the area was constructed by Chinese labourers in the late 1800s and there was also a large wave of immigration from Greece and Italy around the same era.

Although it often gets touted as one of the top three places to live in the world, what people don't tend to hear too much about is the lack of affordable housing here. Vancouver has some of the most overpriced real estate in the world and a major homelessness problem. There is also a HUGE amount of drug use, particularly in the area known as the Downtown Eastside (DTE). Ironically, the DTE is a block away from the busy and fascinating Chinatown, and the tourist centre of historic Gastown. Much of the downtown core is highly densified and there continues to be a kind of gentrification movement where the homeless or those with low incomes are moved out of Single Occupancy Hotels so that the owners can sell to condo developers.

Marijuana is the second biggest industry next to logging in the Province, though still illegal and untaxed. 'BC Bud' is legendary, and you are more likely to smell it on the streets than cigarette smoke. We have weird tiers of provincial, federal and municipal government that I don't really understand, other than to say our mayor and our premier are clowns. We have a public transit system that is overpriced but generally fairly reliable, though more so in the rich areas than the 'lower class' ones. Although there is 'free' medical so you can go to a doctor or clinic for free, not everything is covered and God help you if you need an operation. You can wait anything up to a year for one of those. It is also impossible to find a family doctor and there is a health care crisis, despite the fact that there are hundreds of IMDs (International Medical Doctors) willing and able to work who can't get licenced.

So it is a city, like all others, that has its problems and quirks, but it really is incredibly beautiful, the people are friendly, and although it rains a lot, there is so much to see and do here, so many places to explore, and although I wouldn't go as far as to say it's the best city in the world (I am from Cape Town, after all), it is pretty damn spectacular.

(For a travel guide that I wrote on Vancouver for my old job, see http://www.wordtravels.com/Cities/British+Columbia/Vancouver)

Entering the Blogosphere...

2008-05-13T12:10:00.000-07:00

Yes, I have finally done it. Yes, "it". And I am feeling somewhat ashamed, though strangely elated. No body told me it would feel like this.

I have joined the Blogging world, adding more bits and bytes to float unattended in cyberspace, to be picked up one day on some distant radar (read: webserver). I have my reasons, and like the proverbial pitchfork, they are two-fold. Number One is to keep some kind of a log of my experiences settling in to life in Vancouver to torture faraway family and friends with, and the other is to build up my web presence, as well as some kind of portfolio of my writing and photography.

Let the games begin...