A few thoughts on Canada

Having only been here for a few days, perhaps it seems premature to make assessments about the Canadian culture and way of life. However, it also might be the best time: things seem most alien, and the idiosyncrasies of loonies and toonies and closed vowels haven't been lost on my ears.

On the most basic level, the greatest discrepancies seem to be that Candians are always exceedingly polite, and that Canada is more expensive than the United States. The former is, of course, one of the stereotypes of this land to the north, but the latter I was not expecting to be quite so evident. Still, books, food, and bike supplies are much more than back home. Particularly annoying: you can't ship a lot of things here! Like the books you want (Nico Castel's Spanish Lyric Diction? Out of print, and only available within the US. Sebald's Austerlitz auf Deutsch? Well, Amazon.ca will ship it to you--but it's from a seller in the states and S&H is $7.00) or a slightly better deal on a Kryptonite lock (apparently everyone's bike gets ripped off here unless bolted down, but you literally can't buy a lock at one of the many bike stores for less than $65.00 even though they would retail down south for $40.00). Ryan and I bit the bullet on the locks, but I'm shipping the Castel and Sebald to a composer in Princeton, NJ, that Ryan will go visit in a few weeks. He can bring them back for me, maybe along with some Trader Joe's delicacies? Please? Because of course there aren't any Trader Joe's here either.

Food is somewhat variable. After being rather confused for several days by what seemed to be an utter lack of supermarkets (and a glut of corner delis, groceries, and butchers), I discovered that they do exist, but that the bodegas are also sometimes affordable. A supermarket from a chain of groceries called "No Frills" is just a few blocks away, but perhaps because we're living in a multi-cultural, middle-class neighborhood there are such gems as "Economy Fruit." Yes, that's right, a store... called "Economy Fruit." (Perhaps not quite as good a name as "Canned Foods," but that's long-since been changed to the somewhat more palatable "Grocery Outlet.") Economy Fruit is just down the block from us, on one of the main arteries of Toronto, and is true to its name. I walked out of there with a LOT of food today for $4.75--plus a free bag of string beans someone had left lying around. I did get a better bargain when I found a bag of spinach on the ground the other day, but still pretty good. Alcohol, though, seems to be inescapably, ridiculously expensive. Not that Ryan and I have been boozing it up--quite the contrary--but I did buy the least expensive 6-pack of beer from one of the alcohol stores (I think you have to buy from special stores) for $9.50. Ouch.

I'm sure the reason for the increase in prices has something to do with more government services, perhaps best illustrated by Labour Day. It's the same principle here as in the States, but whereas in America one celebrates by making store workers go in extra early for the big sales, in Canada people march in the streets and then all the folks in the labor demonstration get into the Canadian Exposition (like a big state fair) for free. And EVERYTHING is closed. Even the supermarkets! I did meet a transgender man named Alex that afternoon and buy a bike from him out of his van, so there are an enterprising few... but the rest of them are as good as the Communists upstairs, I suppose.*

But enough of such mundane (and perhaps crass?) matters! In other news, we have had a few orientation-type meetings at the school and received, in no particular order: t shirts! student planners! AND LOCKERS!! I am so excited about having a locker. They're big, beautiful, have coat hooks and a shelf... I'm going to put snacks in my locker. And tea. Oh my gosh. I haven't been this excited for a long time. I could even fit inside my locker...

We're supposed to go to the islands for a barbeque on Saturday and there's an orchestra concert and pub night tomorrow. The staff is so kind and lovely, and they even gave me a work study! I'm going to assist with the Friday masterclasses (there are masterclasses every Friday). So that will make the high priced bike locks in the land of the Communists less painful.

Because this post is so long, I think I shall sign off now and update again later with pictures of home and school and life and such. And perhaps some recipes? And the Communists?

*In reference to their Craigslist advertisement. They're incredibly wonderful people and I hope to write more about them later.

Brief Labour Day Update

Things have been busy recently, but nothing much of interest has occurred. The room looks better but is still disorganized; my shoelaces are in various states of tied-ness; and I'm still in Canada. However, orientation begins tomorrow and I'm sure that I'll do something fascinating soon. For the meantime, a photograph from the fourth floor (in the new wing) looking over the older part of the school and toward the Royal Ontario Museum's new addition (the infamous crystal). It's dark because today was surprisingly cold, windy, and overcast.

Basement _____ ?

Well. After that decidedly unsuccessful attempt at blogging, I write to the empty air about my next phase of life. I should probably change the name of the blog in alliterative honor of the new location, but I can't find a good replacement. Most words referring to women that also start with the letter "B" aren't exactly my style: babe, banshee, bimbo, broad... Regardless, here I am, with Ryan, in Toronto, in a basement. We do have a little window in the bedroom and, from the bed where I now sit, one can see the trunk of a tree and a telephone pole. Yesterday a squirrel was chattering at something, clutched to the side of the tree. We're hardly settled in--lots of furniture and object-storing devices to procure--but it is beginning to get more organized. We spent most of yesterday downtown, actually, practicing at the school and having lunch with some friends. The school is beautiful. Practice rooms with huge windows and lovely views, this wonderful combination of old and new architecture, and even a collection of musical instruments! Including several old harpsichords/a clavichord/an organ... AND serpents! How about that? I wonder if anyone uses the harpsichords.

We still need dressers and wardrobes and bikes and so on, but maybe I'll be able to post some pictures later.

But for now: a bee in Bryce Canyon

Oh and a short anecdote about my first interaction with a Canadian: We had to get our proper visas when we crossed the border, so we parked and jumped out of the car to get it all done as quickly as possible. As we walked from the carport to the immigration building, a guard stopped us to check that we had all the necessary documents. He then added "Oh, and I'm going to have to warn you" (at this point I got a little nervous... do we look bad? are they going to search the car and will we have to unpack the whole thing?) "that your shoes are untied."

O Canada.

February

February already. I'm clearly not very good at keeping a blog. It doesn't help that you have to believe that your thoughts are important enough for others to read, and that you must furthermore solicit their attention through advertising yourself. Like an autobiography, I suppose blogging requires a certain amount of unabashed egotism--which is not to say that I am necessarily lacking in that department; I think I'm just too embarrassed to actually publicize. There is something romantic about the idea of one's thoughts floating through the atmosphere, to be absorbed and pondered by strangers, but that isn't exactly how it works. There is also the small issue that I don't actually do anything particularly interesting!

I had forgotten what winter usually means in New Haven: just cold enough to be miserable, and raining. We have been so lucky this year to get so much beautiful snow. Even the ice storms, though treacherous, have been beautiful. Walking through campus on Thursday, the sunny day after Wednesday's storm, was breathtaking. The trees were sparkling like so many jewels and, even better, tinkling as they rustled in the wind. That sound was perhaps even more descriptive of their sheath of ice than the reflection of color.

Today, on the other hand, was a little miserable. I do love rain, and falling ice can even be magical. A big splosh of something cold and wet hit me in just the right spot on my nose and, after the initial shudder, it was rather remarkable to think that I just so happened to be in the right place at the right time to receive it. However, now all the icy snowbanks and melting into the street with nowhere to go. My street has gone from looking like the frozen north to something out of Oregon Trail. I do secretly hope we get a little more snow to cover up what's left. There is something about snow--especially massive quantities of snow--that is absolutely delicious. Watching snow fall, and fall, and fall, and fall, and not knowing when it will stop, and interrupting daily routines with beauty and quiet and softness and huge piles of fluff, is really amazing. Then it stops, and the sun comes out, and it's beautiful. And then I secretly hope it will start snowing again, until it buries everything.

More encounters with Nature

Today, just as I was arriving home from class, I found a finch rolling and flopping on the sidewalk. He seems to have a broken something, either wing or spine or perhaps even something neurological. I suppose he probably flew into a window.

I have always wanted to be like those girls from fairy tales to whom forest creatures flock* and, much to my delight, my moth adventure was somewhat in that vein. Unfortunately, though, the flopping finch was even more terrorized when I picked him up to move him under a bush. He quieted down somewhat after discovering that resistance was futile, and it was amazing to feel his heart beating under his soft feathers. His bones were so delicate, too. I wanted to help and looked on the internet for information about rolling/flopping finches but didn't find much, other than that bones must be set immediately and that I should call animal control. I figured that animal control probably doesn't care about a finch. I also figured that I'd give him a heart attack if I tried to mess with him too much.

I would keep him as a pet, except he's old enough that he'd probably hate me for the rest of his life. Oh, Nature...

Anyway, it is rather strange to have found two injured flying creatures in three days. Perhaps it is a sign?

*And I haven't quite given up on my plan to keep a carrier pigeon/owl in my attic this year...

And an update: I checked on him around 6:30 pm and he was nowhere to be found. I hope something hasn't eaten him and that he managed to fix whatever was amiss.

Eumorpha pandorus

I found a beautiful moth yesterday. It was green and cream, and very large--on the order of a several inch wingspan. I almost never see large bugs, though I know they're around, so it was pretty exciting.

This moth was fluttering about confusedly around 11:30 am, clearly not moth time. I followed him around for a while until he came to rest on the ground, and eventually picked him up to move him to another, less-trafficked, area. I then spent a long while looking at him (and expecting him to fly away) and talking to him. When I got up I realized that someone was sitting on the bench next to me and listening to me talk to said moth for several minutes. Oh well...

The moth was still there later in the afternoon when I came back, so I'm sure he wasn't well, though I never would have had the chance to see him if he were. (I am assuming this was a 'he,' though I know next to nothing about moths, and know even less about their possible sexual dimorphism. Somehow I think the females are differently colored. I am probably wrong.) He was soft, and wonderfully clingy in a way that small, live animals I try to pick up almost never are. They usually are squealing in paroxysms of fear, actually, and occasionally trying to bite me. But this moth didn't want to leave my hand, and though he was probably trying to avoid being eaten by some other creature it was so lovely to have an interaction with nature where nature wasn't trying to run away.

The moth made my day. It's always refreshing to see something existing so wholly outside of my world, with real concerns and not silly ones like organic chemistry. Which I will go study. Now. Well, maybe after I eat some cookies...



Sorry that the pictures aren't great, by the way. I took them with my phone's camera so the definition isn't superb.

Summer is a goin' out.

So. I have arrived at long last, and am ensconced in my attic sanctuary. I think it is about time for me to write a blog post, except now that I come to it I can't think of anything to say. I suppose, though, that having nothing to say forms the heart of many a blog, and perhaps I shall persevere in spite of it all. Besides, if I'm the only one to read this it shouldn't matter too much!

Yesterday I went down to school for my meeting with the director of the nondegree program. It was so strange to walk through campus and see so many people with so many unfamiliar faces, and to think about my own freshman year. Time has a strange way of telescoping, and yesterday began to run into many other yesterdays as I remembered meeting my suitemates, taking placement exams, and wandering around campus. How bizarre it is to grow up.

Tomorrow is the first day of school. And I don't even have a lunch box.