Grande Hopes for Small Towns

I am sitting in the lobby of the Super 8 in Grande Prairie. My view is... less then spectacular. I can see a Tactotime, a Macdonalds and more hotels akin to the Super 8 flavour. I have heard that there is a nice creek that runs through town but at this time I am stuck in the land of Motel Madness. Every once in a while, however, the sun decides to peek through the clouds and shines on new spring buds, making them glow. I have laundry in the 2 dollar machine and I think I have been getting up to check it too often. There is a woman out the window, smartly dressed and holding a Starbucks, kicking around in a puddle. I can't decide if she is trying to clean something off of her shoe or she is just enjoying herself. 

Since my last blogpost I have been in Anzac, Fort MacMurray, Medicine Hat, Spruce Grove and now Grande Prairie. Tomorrow I leave for Manning, Alberta. Grande Prairie is described as a thriving metropolis in comparison with Manning. Last night we even went to the water park to surf on their new installation called the wave. This is a super awesome feature, that to my knowledge is only in Grande Prairie and Edmonton. I have mixed feelings about leaving for Manning. 

The past two months have been so busy that I am struggling to accomplish what I set out to do. Find the Adventure. So often, I enter schools, nervous, and unsure of the themes the school has chosen. Unsure that I will be able to be present with the children. I no longer feel fresh from my Australian vacation, yet each week, I have to treat my time in schools as an event. Even though the team has been doing this all year, those kids often don't get anything like this at all. We owe it to them to give them our best. I do feel as though I am on the edge of burn out. There are many delightful moments however. Inspiring, exciting and empowering moments. And then I remember the reasons I keep doing what I am doing. 

I would like to tell you about an occurrence in the community of Anzac. Many students at Anzac school are barely literate. The school is working hard to change this, but they have a long road ahead of them. Quest Theatre came along and tried to throw Shakespeare into the mix. There was one student, who really stood out to me. He was in grade six and could barely read. He was bigger then the rest of his classmates, and if he spoke (which was rarely), he mumbled his words into his shirt.  He made it clear that he would rather not participate but we tried to encourage him to do so. We allowed him to pick his own part from the script. After a few moments of uncertainty, he chose one. On performance night the awkward kid jumped up and clearly said, “ I have no words, my voice is in my sword!” He then proceeded with a sword fight that really did seem as though his life depended on it. This was a very exciting moment and the audience loved it. Everyone seemed surprised that he had been so animated, including the boy himself. I really do think that that boy has a strong desire to express himself and whatever was holding him back disappeared with one good sword fight. 

A church in Anzac.

In Spruce Grove my topics were Terrorism, Child Soldiers, and Famine/Disease.  I was dreading going into that school.  So bleak! How do I present those topics with any kind of hope or sensitivity? And how do you get Gr.9's to engage empathetically at all? Turns out, I didn't need to have all the answers. 

I had one severely autistic boy in my shadow class. I decided to give him the bird prop. The bird would be a representation of peace for the child soldiers. 

" Well if I FALL on my face, you can't say..I..I.. I didn't warn you. Don't tell ME I ruined the SHOW!" 

I told the boy that there was no possible way he could ruin the show, and if he happened to fall no one would know it was him because it was just his shadow that was seen by the audience. 

The boy was very good, swooping the bird, making it dip in and out of the screen, above the other props. It was beautiful. He soared. And afterwards-

" I didn't have any stage fright, at all! That was ACTUALLY KINDOF fun."

I think I will focus less on falling on my face and more on having fun.  Bring it on Manning. 

Look at this amazing cake!

Showdown in Chauvin

“Pull’er down and slam her!”- this was just one example of advice given from one of our high school farm kids in Chauvin. (Pronounced SHAW-vin, as we were constantly reminded.)  This same student liked to helpfully point out that the benches could be easily braced with a 2 by 4 and that instead of pretend horses we should bring real horses into the gym for our western themed piece.

Welcome to Chauvin, home to the worlds largest softball (so they say) and four blocks teeming with hearty farm folk. We oversold the town for our performance. There are approximately 300 people in the town and we sold 350 tickets! That’s a win for us I would say. Although it is debatable whether they were coming for the show or for Auntie Eileen’s famous baking which was available afterwards. I’m pretty sure the line up for the baked goods ran the length of the entire school.

I got to do a shadow piece about a dragon. We had an amazing parent support team. The kids were enthusiastic and we were actually applauded in the middle of pieces. Thank you Chauvin for the good time. Next week's blog will be brought to you by the town of Anzac, let’s see what other unknown gems this province has to offer.

Seeking Adventure

For those of you who don’t know, I have just returned from a month long trip to Australia. I have been blessed to go so far. Of course there were financial issues. A six month trip in India does not make it any easier to get away again a year later. There was a lot of worry, a lot of doubt and scrambling with four jobs to make it happen. But I am so glad I did. What a beautiful country, what a quirky and generous group of people. And it was warm! (I just came back from an hour long walk, in minus 15, where I was convinced that my toes were going to fall off.) Sadly my tan has already faded away. This trip meant that I got to spend some important time with important friends. I went to the beach, I took a surf lesson, I went snorkeling, I hiked, I explored. There were hostels and good coffee and wine and crazy critters and awesome accents. It was the perfect escape from January and it did my soul a whole lot of good.

 

This post, however, is not a recap of my Australian adventures. I would love to have coffee with you and tell you all about it if you want. Or you can check out my friend Emily’s blog. capitalist-hippies.com 

I spent my first two weeks in Australia with Emily. We had a really great time. I think she does an excellent job of describing our experiences and she is the inspiration for this next part.

This blog is a promise of sorts to myself and anyone else who is interested. When my time in Australia was ending I was feeling the end of trip blues. Who can blame me? Oh great, I have to return to real life and leave the wonderful land of Aus behind. My friend Naomi asked me what I was excited about back home. I threw my hands up in the air, I groaned, I fell on the couch in despair- Nothing! It’s cold there. She waited. Well I have a lot of work lined up…it will be good to be busy…I really do like my job.

This is how I felt getting on the plane to Canada

I work for a children’s theatre company, we tour around to different schools in the province, we spend a week in each school and at the end of the week we have created a performance with the kids. That’s my usual summary. But it’s so much more then that! Every week I encounter brilliant and overwhelming creativity from these little minds. I witness kids finding their voices, stepping out, and stepping up. Each week is different- I get to time travel, fly, and fight monsters because a tiny human invites me into their world. Their world is beautiful. Their world is huge, and adventurous and anything is possible.

Most of the work I have lined up is out of town. I am going to see a lot of Alberta. That’s a lot of motels, a lot of small towns and most likely a lot of snow. Two weeks ago this did not seem exotic to me in the least. But part of the reason I enjoyed Australia so much was because I was excited as to what adventure lay in store for me that day. What juicy detail could I write home about? That excitement made me more open to beauty and more present for delightful moments. Well I am going to keep seeking and write about my experiences in this blog. I leave on Sunday for Chauvin, Alberta. I am still travelling. As our yoga guru in Aus liked to say “ Everyone is on a journey.”

So what do I write home about now? The kids are open to adventure and so am I.

Falling Into Autumn

Today, on this 8th day of September, it is snowing. The snow is falling falling falling and as much as I try and ignore it, pretend it isn't happening- the snow continues to fall. I cancelled my evening plans and am frustrated that these delicate white flakes have so much power over my life.

This is something I wrote not too long ago. 

Aug 27th- 2014

The water laps at my neon pink toes. It is deliciously icy, the unbearable chill seeping into my bones. Nevertheless it calls my name. A week ago, I would have answered that call.I would have embraced the glacial waters because they would have embraced me back. The sun would have kept it's promise and coloured my skin golden until I was ready to plunge into the river's freezing waters once more. 

August my dear one is almost over and September is looming, I can feel it in the air. I can feel it with the extra blanket I am now throwing over my bed. There are less children running freely. A feeling of resignation has settled over the faces that pass me by. They've had their fun, now to work, to learn. To harden themselves against the coming bluster that will pound their cheeks, crack their hands and nibble off their noses.  And how do I feel? 

______

When I wrote this, the coming bluster was just a poetic thing in the distant future. I'm afraid the bluster has come.  Waay too prematurely in my opinion, but nobody is asking me!

This time last year I was in India. That's all my blog has been about really, and I still think about India . I resided on a mountaintop and the weather was stubborn in it's consistency. Raining or bright days, the usual forecast. But I don't think the thermometer fluctuated too much. Bluster was rare. How strange it was to be a in a land without seasons! Well seasons that I am used to- the heat that you can swim in, the winds and changing colors of the leaves that indicate one should don a scarf, the first snowfall, then the all encompassing snow... who am I kidding? Weather in Alberta does not follow such a dreamy timeline. Ok, I definitely did not want it to snow in India, but while I was there it never felt like time was passing.

This fall has begun and suddenly I am thrown into a whirlwind of driving and scheduling conflicts. And the snow is falling falling falling. I don't want to drive in the snow. I don't want to spend ten minutes to put on enough clothing to prepare me for the outside world. I'M NOT READY!

Ah but when Winter turns to Spring and the folk loosen their collars, having braved the winds and white and wailing nights, that is when they emerge, truly triumphant, victorious and beautiful. 

But first- Autumn. It will come. This snow will melt and leaves will crunch under my feet. 

____

So no, I am not ready for fall. But I am falling into it. And my river full of rapids and turmoil and rocks still manages to whisper " peace dear" and rushes on. 

Musings from a Camel Hump

I would like to start by saying that I have never ridden a horse. I know. I think of this as a great failing in my character and hope to remedy this sometime. I have however ridden a camel. I just spent the last two days trekking around the desert on camel back. This is my second camel trek in my short existence.

Yesterday morning we began our journey after a quick pack and a hasty exit from our hotel in Jaisalmer. My boyfriend boldly proclaimed that he “didn’t need deodorant out in the wild”( he’s hard core, this one) and we were off.

We met our camel drivers some distance out of Jaisalmer. I watched them come in with the previous batch of tourists. These tourists seemed like the real adventure types. That’s the first time I have ever seen a blond in a turban. It suited him. After hearty good byes, photographs, and the blond-adventure type- travellers smoothly inhaling their cigarettes, the camels were exchanged and I found myself balancing 7 feet up on a camels hump. We began our journey, off into the land without water, the great big yonder, the desert.  I affectionately named my camel Gargle Spots. I chose this name for two reasons. The first reason was because he was a master gurgler. He greeted me with a huge open mouth and gave me a clear view of the twigs ensnared in his teeth and gums, the flies that had found their way into his mouth, his green coated tongue and all the way down, down his slimy throat. Quite attractive I assure you. Anyways he would open his mouth, give me that amazing view of his lunch and proceed to gargle. Rolling his saliva around , spitting out maggoty boogers, the whole works! The second reason I chose his name is because he was spotted. I am not sure if this was natural or if he dyed it. As you can see, I really had to reach deep into my creativity for this one.

Here is a picture of Gargle Spots with his bird friend on his head.

We were lightly stepping across the desert. I was at the back in our modest train, each camel linked to the next with a small rope. I took in the camel driver, softly humming a desert tune, and the small boy tucked in behind him. I took in the endless brown sand and perfect blue sky. My gaze moved to my boyfriend on the camel right in front of me. He was bouncing up and down, he had a pained expression on his face and I am pretty sure that his pants were riding up in a very bad way. Ah my poor hardcore-deoderantless love! And now this is my confession, I thought he simply did not have the hang of it, whereas I, being on the second camel trek of my life ( the first one was 10 years ago) was gliding smoothly along because I was very experienced. I might have even smirked.

We stopped for lunch- chapatti, potatoes in sauce and rice. Oh and chai, don’t forget the chai. We lounged in the sun. I snoozed.

Soon it was time for ride number 2. I boarded my camel easily, expecting another jaunt. I ignored my boy friends nervous face. The camel took a step. My gosh! The agony! My saddle seemed to be too far forward. And there was this extremely big lump in my saddle in the worst place.  Camels have very long necks and my entire body was jostling on a downward slope. Suddenly it was all I could do to stay up there. Bracing myself with my wrists, trying not to come down too hard on my crotch, I bounced and jostled and was flung here and there. Meanwhile my boy friend sailed by.  He showed me all the empathy that I had not shown him. My camel, for some reason was in a hurry. This was the time he decided to trot. Let me tell you, the ride does not get any smoother when a camel runs. I spent the next while gritting my teeth while being flung up and down. I am pretty sure that my boyfriend had had the same problem that morning. I regretted my earlier smirk.

Thankfully this agony and torture did not last too long. I think the camel driver caught on to my winces and groans pretty quick. Soon we were stopped for the evening nestled in some glorious sand dunes.

We watched the sunset. We took big loping strides through the sand. We found appropriate sized tumble weeds to pee behind. I have discovered that toilet paper is very pretty when it burns.

The night was chilly but the two of us had a small tent. After gazing at the stars for as long as our frozen feet could stand it, we retired inside.

The next day both of our saddles were cinched properly. The desert was calm and quiet. We trotted through, both of us doing pretty well for ourselves I think. We saw our drivers small hut. I held a baby goat that had been born the day before. My face got a little wind burned. I could now look at my camel with affection and was even a little sad to part ways. My boyfriend named his camel Mr. Gangles. You will have to ask him for the meaning.

I now understand a little, the pull the desert has. It is a beautiful, vast place. Now that we have returned to Jaisalmer the horns and bustle of the city seem even more jarring to me. I miss my brief glimpse into desert life and appreciate it immensely.