Africa

Life Skills I Have Developed As a Result of Being Born in Africa:

1) If you can see dry sandy soil underneath grass, there are probably thorns – avoid walking barefoot.
2) If you have a mosquito bite on the arch of your foot or the top of your big toe, dragging your foot across a door mat will help in the scratching process. If a door mat is unavailable, disregard the advice provided in item #1 – thorns will suffice.
3) If (or rather when) it is hot enough that the tarmac has become sticky, walk along the white or yellow line painted on the road – note that this takes “barefootedness” for granted, as it is both a way of life and state of mind.
* Please also note that this assumes blatant disregard of traffic laws by situating the barefoot child on the tarmac, potentially in the middle of the road. Traffic laws, on this continent, are a relative concept.

That said, the proliferation of instant coffee offends my Canadian sensibilities.
Also, the residual structured social inequality as part of the legacy of discriminatory institutions.
But Nescafe…seriously?

Stuff Twenty-Somethings Talk About

This topic began as a tongue-in-cheek conversation during a walk to a friend's party in which "real" adults were going to be present.
It is being posted now as the other pieces I've been working on (with photos!) will have to wait until after exams and a trip to Africa.


1. Post-modernism
a. What it is (highly debatable)
b. How we're actually modernists (using self-felating pretentious rhetoric referring to the "Enlightenment agenda")

2. "Europe"
a. Also, "that time we were backpacking"/"when we got lost in _____"/"these Australians we met"

3. T9 Ambiguity and potential symbolic meaning that can be derived thereof
a. Go ahead – enter a word on your cell phone and hit the “+” key...I dare you

4. People who are older than us
a. 30 is the new 25...but only because we are becoming dangerously close to 25, or have in fact passed 25 entirely

5. Homework
a. How it sucks, yet has value by creating the discursive space for teenage rhetoric, ie. giving us a reason to use words like "sucks," "bogus," and "lamesies" as eloquent and multi-syllabic descriptors

6. Parents
a. This topic is both justified and humorous, with the added benefit of basically writing itself

7. Dating outside of our decade
a. '70s or '90s? Always an interesting and worthwhile debate
b. How dating outside of our decade situates ourselves clearly in our own decade - the '80s...enough said.

8. Drinking
a. How much we can drink (distinct accomplishments, ex. "I drank a two-six of vodka out of a water bottle mixed with V8 Splash then chased it with 4 Colt 45s and didn't even puke!" becomes analogous to "I just finished my third Iron Man with my most competitive time yet.")
b. The last time we drank
c. How we might still be drunk
d. When we next plan to drink
e. Foolish/irresponsible things we have done while drinking
f. Not remembering things because we were drinking/"The Black-Out"
g. How all of the above are positive and work to construct social status in the hierarchy of twenty-somethings (as opposed to being embarassing and indicative of a lack of maturity and why our credit card limits are so low)
h. *BONUS* How we will "never drink again" - the most recurring falsehood in the twenty-something's lifeworld



Happy procrastination, Hilary-love!

Options

I am officially educated enough to have lost all faith in humanity, as a theoretical construct, an abstract proposition, and a tangible entity. Thus, I feel I have two immediate options:

1. Tattoo an anchor on my foot, smoke a pack of cigarettes, and ride out my twenties waiting for China to take over.

2. Fly to Quebec.

Option 2 is taken care of and ready to go, but I'm not ruling out option 1 entirely as I feel it is always necessary to have a backup plan.
In other, less disparaging news, I have an actual writing project that will begin next week, involving fewer obscure philosophical references. And pictures.

Cornel West!

Everyone go and watch Astra Taylor's documentary, "Examined Life," so that you too can share in the wonder of Cornel West in the back of a cab!

I'm glad my brain managed to access that one...still waiting for the marshmallow frosting...any day now.

So. Tired.

Assortment of Fatigue Induced Reflections:

1. Judith Butler is much shorter than she appears in writing (figure that one out).
2. I watched a man talk about romanticism, Beethoven, and the Blues in the back of a New York taxi, and cannot remember his last name.
3. "Honey, you look like you know your way around - where do I find the lard, I'm too cheap for butter?" - my new 80 year old Safeway friend.
4. I'm not too cheap for butter.
5. Philosophy and Safeway-navigation will not save you from second degree yam soup burns.

90 hours until Montreal!

"Kenya Dig It?"

I have a lot of writing to do tonight, and none of it's the fun kind. What's more, it has zapped all the interesting things out of my head. More likely, it has trapped the "interesting to the public" things in a back corner, barricaded by theoretical jargon (and possibly solidified caffeine deposits - gross). I am hopeful that these interesting things are hanging out with my new postal code, the recipe for marshmallow frosting, and an explanation of Sigma notation. Maybe they'll all burst onto the scene together.

Until then, I will (as usual) make a list.

Things That Make Me Cringe:
1. Incorrect use of semicolons
2. Finger and/or toe-related injuries
3. Water-hole scenes featuring infant wildlife in National Geographic programming
4. Anti-climactic sneezes
5. Sigma notation


PS The title of this post is a song by the Ruby Suns. Thanks, Mark!

Sartre Soundtrack

I read an entire existentialist morality play last night, and can conclude firmly that Communism has never done me any favours. However, according to a French guy who turned down the Nobel Prize in Literature, it would be really helpful to Jews and ethnic minorities. He'll back that up with 154 pages of wisdom...and a 26 page prologue if you need "context."

In the spirit of multi-tasking, I also listened to Peaches' new album on repeat - reading an existentialist, listening to a feminist, and drinking coffee from Ikea.

Happy Birthday, Hilary!

The Suffix Awards

Most Widespread:

- ism

The ideology-maker! Choose something you like and make it an ideolgoy.
Ex. I like females - let's call that feminism!
Unfortunately too many people caught on, and 'ideologies' like 'Cheesism' were born.


Runner-Up for Most Widespread:

- ist

We can take our hip ideology-maker one step further, and use it to self-identify!
Ex. I like females - let's call that feminism - and I'll be a feminist!
If you're in the mood for some self-identifying, see http://phrontistery.info/isms.html for 234 such - isms that you can - ist.


Most Effective for Verb-Faking:

- ify (also '- isify')

Choose an adjective and make it a verb.
Ex. Diverse - Diversify (this is an actual verb)
Green - Greenify (this is not)


Most Void of Meaning:

- ificationism

The bastard child of - ification and - ism. Please don't use this in speech. Or writing. It has the effect of discrediting much of what you are saying to my pretentious ears.


Too much theory can breed cynicism.

Instant Coffee = Gross

I am drinking instant coffee and reading a psycho-analytic manifesto on racialization theory published in 1952. My right leg has temporarily gone to sleep.
Two weeks ago I awoke to bowling shoes at the foot of my bed.
On Tuesday I saw the Dalai Lama.
Tomorrow I invoke my African roots and tie a mattress to the roof of my car.
Next week, the investigation of two more writing gigs and pursuit of more meaningful blogging.

I still can't believe I willingly enrolled in a three hour seminar on a Friday afternoon.

Tiaras, Acetone, and Chocolate Hemp Cake

It has been many moons (well...one) since I was last moved to post something. Given that the next week will bring a move across town and the beginning of classes, I'm sure motivation (disguised as procrastination) will lead to some interesting words. Until then, a brief reflection on the past month...


Things I have learned during various social gatherings:
- Despite my best efforts, I still find red wine to be eerily reminiscent of nail polish remover. However, the term "best efforts" carries little weight, as I refuse to spend more than $15 on a bottle of wine (I am a starving student, after all). Herein lies what I refer to as "The Acetone Problem."
- Knees are both knobbly and precariously exposed in short skirts.
- Dancing is great, you should try it.

Other news:
- I awoke to a 5' inflatable flamingo in the bathroom on my 21st birthday. It made for a rather shocking "before breakfast" experience. Later on, I wore a tiara.
- I gave up coffee while touching my nose to my knees in a room heated to 42 degrees celsius. Three days later I was drinking a cappuccino and reading vegan recipes in a book store. In terms of caffeine, green tea just doesn't cut it.
- A three hour "Kama Sutra Sacred Dance Journey" workshop led to my discovery that "shakti" is not only the trendy name of a hemp based chocolate cake, but also a word for female energy.
- I may be homeless as of November 1st.
- Ikea has increased the price of their vanilla frozen yoghurt.

Most importantly:
- Rachel is home.

Riveting Lists

Things I am a fan of:

- peanut butter
- tea
- birthday cards
- Simon and Garfunkel
- awareness that extends beyond the "self" (there's an obscure one...I mean "when people are kind and considerate of one another and follow the 'treat others as you wish to be treated' rule")


Things I am not a fan of (and may actively avoid):

- my gmail inbox




I am waiting for the Aung San Suu Kyi verdict.

Leaving is my butter-cream

I am at work for the last time. "Lasts" are so strange. I felt like hugging the cafeteria employees and expressing my sincere gratitude for their cheerful smiles of recognition that came with "Coffee? $1.88" each morning. Now they'll be left wondering what happened to the unusually tall blonde girl who always asked for soya milk...

Last night I went to the "Light and Sound Show" on Parliament Hill. They project images and lights onto the Parliament buildings, accompanied by a bilingual soundtrack consisting of quotes by famous Canadians and music of questionable ethnic origin. This bizarre phenomenon occurs twice an evening. Naturally, we stayed for both shows, standing to sing and applaud at the end of each - using geography, technological achievements, and multicultural children to evoke sentiments of national pride works every time. It was quite possibly the highlight of my summer. Not only do our government buildings serve as the backdrop for an evening tourist attraction, they are also housed on the same land as a cat sanctuary.

I have not started packing, which isn't surprising. It won't take long to put my fifteen scarves, three piles of cardigans, four hippos and a string of Christmas lights into the Civic (I hope). Getting ready to leave places makes me feel scattered - like rainbow-sprinkles in a bowl jumping around with static electricity. Finally leaving is like mashing a frosted cupcake into the bowl - the sprinkles get stuck in the icing, a few fall off or stick to your lip, but for the most part the butter-cream contains the chaos. Final departure is my butter-cream (I am going to start using cupcake analogies more often).

Here is the beginning of my to do list:
- Burn 20+ hours of music onto CDs in themed playlists including "Why the '90s were awesome," "Hairy men who wear plaid," and "Boy bands were a phenomenon that actually existed...huh."
- Take photographs of the asbestos-filled-oddly-scented-labrynth-safety-hazard that is Apartment 11.
- Monkey around on the rusty fire escapes one last time.
- Place all belongings into 2 large backpacks.
- Place enough toques for 4 days into smaller backpack. Include bottled water, cortisone cream, and Canadian whiskey (for emergencies - Canada is cold).
- Finish the blueberry crisp in the freezer (after defrosting without an oven or a microwave...).
- Wade into the Ottawa River to film roommate spinning fire-fans.
- Purchase peanut butter and apples for the road.
- Sing and dance to the road-trip gods for no rain and lots of moose.

Final thoughts:
- You can camp on Crown land for up to 21 days for FREE if you are a Canadian citizen.
- We're driving as far North as you can drive...pushing our Southern-Canadian limits.
- Notre pays est beau, and the Pacific Ocean is calling.

We're "tweeting" our updates, so you can stay abreast of our progress and moose sightings:
http://twitter.com/perogie_pirates

Ottawa, thank you, until later...in Ojibway:
Odawa, migwetch, baampii.

Pillow-Screaming and Google: My Anti-Drug

Working on Aboriginal children’s rights has been incredible. I have learned some amazing things – for example, almost everything about Iroquois child care practice before colonization – and will work on sharing them when I am not working under a terrifying deadline (ie. after August 5th).

However, in addition to learning amazingly good/inspirational/eye-opening things, I have also reached new levels of anger and bitterness towards colonialism and Western bureaucracy. After a healthy dose of pillow-screaming following “an assessment of the implementation of the audit's recommendations that offers further recommendations as to how better implement the previous recommendations not being fully implemented,” I indulged my inner cynic on Google and found the following quote:

1492. As children we were taught to memorize this year with pride and joy as the year people began living full and imaginative lives on the continent of North America. Actually, people had been living full and imaginative lives on the continent of North America for hundreds of years before that. 1492 was simply the year sea pirates began to rob, cheat, and kill them.

Kurt Vonnegut, thank you for articulating what my Half-Full-Eternal-Optimist-Yes-We-Can Self could not.

Back to cold coffee and deep breathing. 7.5 hours to the deadline.

Adulthood vs. Studentism

I have to write two papers this weekend. I am having school-year flashbacks – sitting on my bed amidst a sea of papers, listening to drunken laughter from my neighbour’s balcony, drinking coffee reminiscent of nail polish remover at 9pm. However, these papers will not be graded. I will not be rewarded with a number between 0 and 100 to validate my late night efforts. Far more terrifying, my writing is expected to serve some functional purpose for people outside of academia – people in the “real world.”

I am using knowledge and skills acquired during my undergraduate education in a “real world” setting. This implies that I possess “transferable skills.”

The sheer magnitude of this realization has contributed to an amazing tension headache that started in my forehead and has since filled my skull and spilled into my neck and shoulders.

Using my “folk knowledge” of headaches, I ventured into my closet-sized kitchen to make tea. The chord of the electric kettle melted during an impromptu kitchen fire last week, so I filled a pot of water and switched on the stove. The electric stove elements erupted in blue sparks, accompanied by loud clicking noises. While these barriers to tea drinking would normally have seemed like a cruel joke after a stressful week, after leaping to switch off the stove, I high-fived myself: I may have transferable skills with “real world” applications, but my entire apartment is a safety hazard, there are socks drying on my bedside lamp, and I ate peanut butter with a spoon for dinner. Nice try, adulthood. Studentism, I embrace you – we’re still in this together!

Monday

“Deliver me from Swedish furniture.
Deliver me from clever art...
...May I never be complete.
May I never be content.
May I never be perfect.”
~ Chuck Palahniuk

Give me a quiet room with books, without photocopiers, where people only make sounds when turning pages or offering each other hot beverages once an hour.

There will be no high-pitched chattering. There will be no YouTube.

Today is “Cynical Librarian Appreciation Day.”

Breathing/Blinking

I started this at first with a sweeping statement about "faith in humanity," but realized that "humanity" is a really big thing, and that for the most part, I do indeed have faith in "it." So rather than saying that on some days I have little faith in humanity, I will be more accurate and say that on some days, I am surprised by the human ability to experience extreme sadness and still walk upright. When walking upright doesn't go so well, it's the little things (like breathing and/or blinking) that count. Over the past few weeks, I have been brought to my knees by several individuals and their abilities to keep on breathing and blinking when faced with extreme adversity. Going into details would be disrespectful, or at least voyeuristic...so I'll stay mysterious and vague.

I have also been brought to my knees because:
- the walking upright thing was a little much and breathing/blinking seemed more feasible from a lower altitude;
- physical acknowledgement of spiritual gratitude seemed...you know...appropriate;
- I was laughing really, really hard;
- loose change for laundry tends to hang out under my bed.

The lesson I'm taking from this is that joy/sorrow/fear/hope all take it in turns to mess with you, and just when you're beginning to feel profound and emotive (ie. angsty), the absence of clean underwear reminds you that life goes on.

I'll leave you with a quote:

"...A person who is headstrong enough to open their eyes and their heart to the full depth and weight of the world is inviting in everything out there - both evil and good, both dark and light, and the sheer bravery of that openness enables them to gain profound insight into the human condition. It also f*cks them up. It may even make them more prone to stick their head in an oven than to engage in self-promotional chitchat on Jay Leno."
~ Patricia Pearson

Things

This was supposed to have been posted on Friday, but...life (“work”) happens.

This is another Montreal weekend. One of the great things about central Canada is that there are numerous large cities within reasonable driving distance (as an aside, one of the strange things about Central Canada is that there is no ocean). Anyway, 2 hours on a Greyhound and we shall be speaking French and eating bagels.
First on the Montreal agenda is a hair cut from the Funky Toque. This may necessitate wearing a funky toque to cover up a funky haircut, but I’m ok with that. I love toques – I packed at least four for the road trip. Speaking of packing, emptying a bag for the weekend has inspired some reflection on the “stuff” I carry around.
Here is the abridged version of what travelled with me to work today:

Purple batik zipper pouch (ie. my “wallet”) and its contents:

- Credit card – the student variety, ie. complete with a “fun” image and a matching “fun” (ie. low) limit.
- Driver’s license – the only reason I know my height in centimeters.
- Receipt for 1 vegan chocolate-bananarama cookie from the bakery down the street – my coffee habit is supported by my enthusiasm for vegan/wheat-free/sugar-free baked goods.
- $5.58 in small change – heavy, but enough for 5 afore-mentioned vegan cookies.
- Burt’s Bees lip balm – old habit from my saxophone-playing years.
- Ticket stubs from Bytowne Cinema (Ottawa’s home of the foreign/indie film) – a reminder that while joining the Italian Mafia may be artistically dramatic, it is not to be recommended (the same applies to travelling across the Gobi Desert alone).

Notebook:

- Schedule for winter semester – thesis, thesis, thesis.
- Notes from the Senate Committee Against Sexual Exploitation of Children – one of the most interesting Wednesday mornings I’ve had.
- Name tag with House of Commons Security Clearance – sometimes I feel important.
- The alphabet written backwards (?)

Miscellaneous:

- Aloe vera (for my Parliamentary sunburn received while standing on the Hill yesterday for the National Day of Reconciliation – awkward business-casual tan lines).
- Almonds – I am my mother’s daughter.

The good news is that I could probably survive stuck in an elevator for a few days (thank you, almonds), and if found unconscious by the side of the road, a) have little of value that could be stollen, and b) could be easily identified and traced home via bakery receipts and coffee cards. The bad news is that I felt compelled to create a list of the contents of my wallet during my spare time, so outside I go.

Cinnamon Delirium

The café across the street just got my order correct for the first time. I’m a fan of Across-the-Street-Café (as I have named it), despite the high probability of being handed something that only vaguely resembles what you had asked for – it’s filled with red couches and quirky artwork, and barristas who probably wouldn’t make it at Starbucks but seem to be far more charming than anyone wearing the green apron. Except for one woman who would probably beat you with an espresso grinder if given half the chance. Anyway, during my first morning on Bank Street I ordered a large dark roast and when the potentially-pubescent individual behind the counter reached for a “small” cup I lunged forward involuntarily gasping “No!” He looked terrified to which I replied, “I’m sorry…it’s just no way that’s big enough.” Thus began my addiction-fuelled love affair with the certified-fair-trade-organic beanery next to the place that makes floral arrangements out of fruit (the things you can DO with a melon baller!). This is my work neighbourhood. Or at least, one of them.

My building is packed with non-profit organizations. Interestingly, while my door opens next to the Canadian Federation of University Women, my window looks directly over “Dare to Be Naughty Adult Novelty,” which can apparently give you a great deal on floggers. Heading North towards the canal, you can see Parliament, and will pass a large Royal Bank of Canada, along with bakeries, boutiques, and the patio of an Italian bistro. One of the reasons I love Ottawa is that everything is mixed up: food, art, politics, music, business. Depending on the route, you can end up outside an embassy, inside a university building, or picking up a used book for a dollar while a man plays guitar on the sidewalk. There are also dozens of Lebanese food places – Ottawa must be the shawarma capital of the Western world.

My commute this morning was slightly delirious, which added to the usual excitement and interest. To start, monsoon season has unexpectedly arrived in central Canada, and it is pouring. Ottawans, unlike Vancouverites, are inexperienced when it comes to moving through crowded streets in the rain, and being that my eyes are level with most people’s umbrellas, there is much dodging and jumping in order to protect my vision. Gumboots and raincoats abound, and public transit becomes tropical as crowded wet bodies steam, dressed unnecessarily for the apocalypse. Having woken up with the same mild fever I took to bed, I could add dizziness to the heat and humidity, making for an oddly detached, out-of-body commuting experience. Thus, successfully receiving a cup in my hand that was not only the right size, but also contained soy milk (“no, that’s cow, the one with the beans…”), AND an offer of extra cinnamon, was hugely calming before my regular 8am-laptop-switch-on to see what the day would bring. Incidentally, the day is bringing lots of things, so back to work I go. I’ll try writing about what it is I actually do another time.

Kabisa: absolutely, completely, without a doubt

And so begins my last four-month summer as an undergrad!

I’m in a slightly different part of the world than I have been in past summers, and while public transit is more reliable and coffee is more expensive, I’m still wearing sandals every day.

Twelve months from now, I’ll have a degree, which is a somewhat disconcerting prospect faced by many twenty-somethings. So I’ve decided to switch from TravelBlog as I’m not really travelling, and share some general musings and stories from my stint in the nation’s capital. While there will be fewer anecdotes involving cows and marriage proposals (bittersweet, really), you can look forward to more pictures (and proofreading), and I’ve kept a bit of Tanzania in my Swahili title.

I’m not sure how writing will fit in with my ten hour work days, but as a first post, here are some lists I wrote in the back of my notebook during coffee breaks.

Things I learned while driving across a country the size of Europe:

• I have a mean and nagging caffeine addiction.
• Rural Canada does not believe in “skim milk”…let alone soy.
• Life sometimes unexpectedly resembles the first 20 minutes of a slasher film – night-driving and fog are common. Fortunately axe murderers are not.
• Ontario is big.
• “Muskeg” is a word.
• “Nipigon” is not only a word, but a place.
• Birkenstocks are versatile and can go everywhere (ex. through the muskeg in Nipigon).
• Canada is cold, the ground is hard, and camping in Saskatchewan is amazing.
• Men in large trucks may be compensating for something, and probably have a complex about it.
• “If we hadn’t broken any laws, we’d still be in Manitoba.”

Things I have learned as an intern/student employee (over the years):

• “Business casual” can be a fluid concept, or, “These are my classy flip-flops.”
• “9am” is also a fluid concept. Sometimes it means 8am. On better days…it doesn’t.
• “Toner” is a mystical substance that runs out frequently.
• Be equipped for sunburns, frostbite, and bleeding – commuting, AC, and paper-cuts make for risky business.
• Glasses can balance blonde hair when people are making visual judgments about one’s cognitive ability/moral fibre.
• The most character-building and valuable work experience usually involves little (if any) pay and high levels of cortisol.

Things I have learned from student housing:

• Famous last words: “Oh cool, the guys moving in next door are musicians!”
• Closets hold promising and infinite possibilities, including but not limited to bedrooms and patios.
• Climate control is for the weak.
• Moths trump rats on the hierarchy of gross-ness. You can trap rats. No one likes moth balls.
• If you are resourceful, most things are free – primarily toilet paper and coffee tables.
• Once acquiring said free coffee table, walk swiftly.
• Toques contribute positively to most situations.
• ‘90s dance music is an immediate upper.

Other:

• Russian people are in my destiny.