Friday, July 29, 2005
Getting things in perspective
I don't know about you, but having lived my entire life with family, food and a roof over my head, I find it hard to imagine how bad life could really be. Even when people are obviously hard up, like at the shelter, I find myself thinking: "Well, they're smiling and laughing, and they look okay. Things can't be that bad." But often, they are. I spoke to one guy a couple of days ago who'd slept outside the previous night (which was unusually cold). He didn't even have a blanket. How do these people cope in winter, when it's 30 below outside?
(Answer: a lot of them freeze to death. I've been told "that's just the way it is." Why??)
Another guy I was speaking to today said his t-shirt smelled of puke (I hope you're not reading this at dinner time!!). "Oh," I said, not really knowing what to say. "Did you puke on it?"
"Probably," was his reply. He didn't even know. That's a pretty bad state to be in. Even worse than being cold or smelly must be the knowledge that you have absolutely nowhere to go. It must feel so incredibly lonely.
So I found myself wondering what I could possibly have in common with the people at the shelter. But actually, for people with not much in common, we get on surprisingly well. We had a real laugh this morning just talking about movies and cars and stuff, and there's this one guy who always tells me about the latest thing he's written. He's going to bring something in for me to read.
Sometimes I enjoy myself so much, I forget I'm also there to make sure the shelter's rules aren't broken (things like swearing and playing practical jokes). I'm pretty crap at the discipline part. The writer guy was telling me this morning how he used to steal the badges off Mercedes cars and replace them with a Happy Meal toy. I guess I should have said something along the lines of, "nooo, crime is bad", but I actually thought it was pretty funny. Same with the guy who was teaching me how to swear in Russian the other day. I mean, it's in another language, it's not like anyone can understand, right?
Another annoying shelter rule is that you can't speak to or make contact with anyone when they're outside the shelter. I'd love to just take someone to the movies one day (a lot of people there are bored and penniless), and I could use the company - but it's a no-no. I suppose it makes sense - a lot of volunteers at the shelter are girls and a lot of the guys are, well, guys. So they've probably had 'inappropriate' relationships develop in the past. Trouble is, I live so near the shelter I keep bumping into the homeless people wandering around - but they seem pretty closed off when they're out on the street, so sometimes they don't even say hi. That makes me kind of sad, but I can't really blame them.
Anyway, I'll be seeing a lot more of them next week because I'm getting paid (yay!) to work three extra mornings. I'm also doing a poetry workshop so it involves writing too! If only that could become some kind of permanent job...
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
I'm so glad we're moving
No big deal - we just borrowed a unit from some friends, and fixed it into our window. What we didn't think about was all the humidity in the air. We discovered the hard way that all that water goes into the air conditioner and, if you're not too careful, leaks into all those hard-to-see places in your bedroom where mildew loves to grow.
This all happened last Monday - so we cleared everything up, sprayed Lysol (the holy grail of mildew remover) everywhere, and life went back to normal. Then we discovered yesterday that it had happened again. So again, we dutifully scrubbed and sprayed. Now today it's happened AGAIN!!! We even changed the position of the air conditioner so this wouldn't happen! But now we're in the middle of a tropical rainstorm and all that water has come through the air conditioner from outside. Bastard.
Normally I hate swearing but this is getting too much. I feel like freakin' Jennifer Connelly in 'Dark Water'. There's damp spots and the smell of mould everywhere. And nothing dries out because it's too humid!! Come back, English summers, all is forgiven!
...actually, maybe that's going a bit far. I mean - did you see Glastonbury this summer??
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Breaking news!
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
We're buying a house!!!
http://www.mls.ca/PropertyDetails.aspx?vd=&SearchURL=%3fMode%3d0%26Page%3d1%26vs%3d1%26rlt%3d%26cp%3d%26pt%3d26%26mp%3d250000-300000-0%26mrt%3d-1-0-0%26Beds%3d0-0%26Baths%3d0-0%26f%3d3%26ft%3dall%26o%3dA%26of%3d1%26ps%3d10%26ptgid%3d1%26aid%3d6521%26MapURL%3d%253fAreaID%253d888&Mode=0&PropertyID=3787497Could that url be any longer?! Anyway, to summarise: it has a pool, as well as nice size back garden, garage, massive front garden, hardwood floors, new kitchen (with dishwasher, microwave, and oven thrown in), funky lighting, basement (with bedroom, WC, study and utility room), and on the ground level there are three bedrooms and a fixed up bathroom. And it's walking distance from the town centre!!!
Okay, enough of the exclamation marks. Like I said, we've only put in on offer - it hasn't been accepted yet. We should find out in the next 48 hours or so. But that's like a 48 hour Hitchcock movie! I can't take the suspense!!! (or the excessive exclamation marks!!!)
Monday, July 18, 2005
She didn't notice that the lights had changed
I can thank the Canadians (and 21 years of maturity) that the same thing hasn't happened here. It felt pretty close on Sunday though, when I stopped at a flashing red traffic light and had no idea what to do. We just don't have them in England, and I'd totally forgotten what it meant in Canada. With the car behind me beeping and having nearly pulled into traffic moving the other way, I panicked so much I couldn't hear Joe telling me what to do. Finally I figured everyone was just waiting for me, so I drove off with a screech of rubber. In my mind I'd just thrown the ball to the other team and Emma Carter was screaming at me in frustration.
Anyway, traumatic psychological flashbacks aside, it's been a pretty good weekend. On Sunday evening I went to an Indian women's party one of Joe's colleague’s wives had invited me to. She'd even got me a beautiful dark green pyjama suit embroidered in gold with little sparkles all over it.
I was going to meet her there, so I walked into the big hall looking for someone with long dark hair in Indian dress. That narrowed it down to the entire room. As I walked around looking for Balwinder, I could feel a thousand eyes following me around. Not only was I the only white person in the place, but staring isn't a problem in Indian culture (hey, at least they’re not pretending not to stare). In fact, from my experience in the country itself, it's positively encouraged. I felt like a piece of white chocolate in a bag of Buttons.
Anyway, I eventually found her and suddenly there was a flurry of activity in an attempt to make me ‘look Indian’. I have to say, they did a pretty good job (see below!). What with nose rings, arm bracelets, and earrings with bits woven into my hair, the jewellery stall made a killing. And I felt great : )
“Don’t worry about what to wear. Our wardrobes are open – and we’ll make you look like a proper Indian woman,” she said. I can’t wait!!
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Brewing up a storm
Anyway, we whiled away a chilled-out evening drinking beer on their back porch and watching the first storm we've had in ages. I love Canada's violent weather. It's either blazing hot or freezing cold or peeing it down. And the lightning is incredible! Plus rain is a bit of a novelty at the moment. But I guess I'm sounding smug now : )
Friday, July 15, 2005
Always Volunteer
At breakfast, they've got me sitting down and chatting to people while most of the other volunteers serve up the food. It's a bit nerve-racking, and hungry tired people aren't really up for conversation, but it's nice to sit down and share a coffee anyway. Plus there's the odd chatterbox, like the guy this morning who used to go to the shelter and now volunteers there.
He told me about his experience with drugs, like mushrooms ("acid without the flashbacks") and speed ("50 times stronger than coffee"). For someone who smoked about two spliffs in her entire life (bringing on a fit of paranoia that taught me never to do it again), it was quite an education.
I also learnt a bit more from him about why Hamilton is such a vortex of deprivation. Homeless people seem to be either kicked out of Toronto or find it too intimidating, so they come to a smaller city like Hamilton. This has to be the least well-heeled place in Ontario (because it's industrial) so benefits are easier to get and poor people stick out less. There's been such an influx of them that countless shelters and other charities have sprung up to meet the demand, drawing more homeless people here, and so on.
Later, I went out litter picking with three or four of the homeless people as part of their work program. Actually, it's often quite hard to distinguish between volunteers and homeless people at the shelter (they're often the same age and aren't in their Sunday best). Especially when their reasons for being there are sometimes the same. I asked one of the litter-pickers why she did the work program. "It's something constructive to do with my day," she replied. Snap.
[Pictured: Litterpickers from the shelter. Not us though - we didn't have rakes]
Another guy asked me if I was going to litter-pick in my sandals. I said I was.
"You might want to look out for needles, that's all," he said, looking at my toes with concern. In the end there weren't any, but it did scare me for about five minutes.
Needles and odd looks from the locals aside, though, litter-picking was surprisingly satisfactory. Walking past the same park later that day, I looked at all the kids running around and playing in bare feet. It was nice to know they were safe partly because of me.
Anyway, I did say I was going to make my daily entries brief, so I'll shut up now. Tomorrow's will be shorter, I promise!
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Long Hot Summer
I can finally see why Canadians put up with the five-month snowstorm they laughingly call ‘winter’. Their summers are absolutely incredible. It's not just the fact that the thermometer hasn't dipped below 30° these last two weeks. It's also the lush green surroundings, the expanses of sparkling water, and the countless fun things to do that make Canadian summers so legendary.[Right: By Lake Ontario, where most people spend the summer]
Joe and I have been spending our weekends househunting in a local town called Grimsby. This, as I've probably mentioned, is a far cry from the stinky northern English fishing port that shares its name. It's nestled at the foot of the Niagara Escarpment, which is completely unmarked by roads or houses so it looks like there's a giant green tidal wave constantly about to engulf the town. There's a very old-fashioned feel about the place and everyone's really friendly. It's in the middle of miles and miles of peach orchards and vineyards, where you can pick your own fruit for not much money at all. And if it all gets a bit too twee, there's only a twenty minute drive to the nearest bar or cinema! Sorted!!
Hanging out in Grimsby when the sun is shining is pretty close to heaven. Between houses last weekend, we went and picked our own cherries and then ate them under some trees. I sat there in the dappled shade thinking how ludicrously sweet and juicy the cherries were, when Joe woke me from my stupor by deciding to have a pip-spitting contest in my direction. I ran around trying to avoid the projectiles, screaming and laughing. It was the happiest I'd been in ages.
[Left: vineyard with escarpment in background. Paradise.]I've already banged on about the value of houses in Canada, so I won't bore you any more. But just have a quick look at this one (for the price of a one-bedroom flat in central London...) http://www.venturehomes.ca/ShowTour.asp?TourID=2743
So weekends have been pretty great lately. Which makes weekdays in Hamilton seem all the more depressing. There's no greenery here. No fruit trees. No small-town feel. Just decaying buildings, and fumes from the steel factories, and every other person you walk past a reminder of the grinding poverty that blights the place (I'm having a creative writing day - can you tell?). I would seriously say, though, that at least one in four of the people I walk past is on alcohol or drugs, stricken by poverty or homelessness, physically or mentally disabled, or morbidly obese.
[Right: some of the many decaying buildings in the city centre]
It was all starting to get me a bit down. It didn't really help that I was getting seriously bored. So I decided to kill two birds with one stone and volunteer at the local homeless shelter. I've only done one morning so far, so I've yet to see how it goes, but I'll keep you posted. As promised, I've also applied for a job at a local convenience store. Aiming high!!! (Oh well, it’s only part time so I can still do freelance stuff).
[Left: breakfast at the shelter. This is the main thing I'll be helping with]Another thing I wanted to mention was the Canadian response to everything that happened in London. Whenever I speak to anyone (whether or not I know them), they say to me: “Oh, you're British? I'm really sorry about the bombings in London. Did you know anyone there?” The fact that complete strangers would inquire after my family and friends is something I find really touching. On top of that, every single official building I've walked or driven past has had its flag at half-mast. When you realise the country you've moved to is showing solidarity with the country you've left, it gives you a really warm feeling inside.
Anyway, enough of the slush. I keep saying to myself that I'm going to update this blog more often with briefer entries, so I'll try to do that starting this week. If you don't see anything in the next couple of days, give me a swift kick in the butt by email. Thanks!
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Missing London
Seeing stuff like that really makes me miss the place. I know I'm not London's biggest fan, but I felt so proud when it won the Olympics (just yesterday - thanks to Al-Qaeda for bringing us back to sobriety), and I had a really good time seeing all my family and friends there. On my last day I had a few hours free, so I hopped on the Tube and took in some of London's more multicultural bits. In just half an hour I travelled from markets selling plantain in Brixton to corner shops selling ghee in Tower Hamlets. If I'd had time I could have gone and had some lahmacun (Turkish pizza) in Tottenham or baklava in Edgware Road. I can't think of anywhere else on earth (except possibly Toronto) you can do that.
[Right: Brixton market. Okay, so it looks like a landfill, but it sells pretty interesting stuff]
So that's why I backed the bid at the last minute - because London really does have a lot going for it. All it really needs is a big injection of cash and organisation, and better policing, and to knock everything down and replan the city from scratch... okay, so that's a lot. But I think the Olympics could make sure at least some of that gets done.
Sigh. So like I said, I had a really good time in my last few days in Britain. I hung out with Kitsch in Sync and sang 'Fame'; I went to a sleepover in Oxford with my uni friends (Rach, Marta and Jo) and consumed far too much grease and sugar - and sang along to 'Phantom of the Opera'; and then there was my old friend Kate's wedding in Bournemouth, where I consumed far too much of everything and killed my ankles on the dancefloor while headbanging and singing myself hoarse. So, a general pattern of singing and over-consumption then. It rocked!!!
[Left: the result of being slightly tipsy and having access to a dancefloor. Fatal combination]I love rushing around and seeing everyone and being constantly busy. It makes me feel like I have purpose. Now I'm back in Canada, I feel as aimless as I did before I left. I keep asking myself what I'm doing here, and the only answer I can come up with is: "Because Joe's here." Which is a perfectly valid reason - and I do love Canada. But neither Joe nor patriotism can fill up my days. Which is why I need a job.
So watch this space - hopefully within a few weeks I'll either be a snazzy media babe or working in a convenience store. Either way it'll be nice to earn some dosh.
Anyway, that's it for now. One last thought - looking at the news this morning, I was all too aware that this kind of thing will probably never happen to Canada. We just don't matter enough in international affairs. In one sense that's good. In another sense, it proves my theory that whenever you stick your neck out, you're going to get attacked. England stuck its neck out, whether right or wrong in retrospect, and now it's facing the consequences. Canada has no guts on the international scene, therefore it's safe. I think I admire England more.
