Reflections on Move #13

Let me be very clear, I HATE moving.

The process of having to go through all of your stuff and put it away in different boxes; the guilt you feel as you realize that you haven't justifiably used or needed well over half of what you have, the further guilt you feel as you realize that, under the circumstances you can't really pass these useless items on to someone else, and instead you have to just throw them, in the process contributing to the endless pile of refuse that continues to grow menacingly as our species neglect and irresponsibility continues to prevail.

Coming with all of that is the emotion that you feel about the fact that a transition in your life is upon you. The strength of this emotion is compounded by the exhaustion that you feel working full days at work and then spending your afternoons and evenings moving.

All of this makes me wonder, why in the heck have I moved SO MUCH?

Not including any of the moves before my 5th birthday (because who remembers anything before your 5th birthday anyway?), this was the 13th move of residence that I have done in my live, spanning across 5 different countries.

Fatal Flaw

Given that I want a job and a life where I (and my future family) will most likely be traveling frequently, is my disdain for moving my fatal flaw?

As every literature dabbler knows, every protagonist has a fatal flaw. The one thing which he cannot avoid which is his undoing. In tragedies, it is often what the hero loves the most, that hurts him the most. To give a simple Pop culture reference, Spiderman loves Jane, but cannot have Jane because it would mean he could no longer be Spiderman.

The only resolution I can see to this is that hopefully, my future moves will be more simple. This move couldn've been more complex, two people going to different continents, at different times, with one (my) parents both overseas and the family house is on the other side of the country.

Emotions

I felt particularly emotional moving this time around. Far more than normal. Especially when you consider that I had only lived in this apartment for 8 months, making it the place with the second least amount of time spent of everywhere I've lived.

I can only come to 3 possible conclusions as to why this was the case:

1) Now that I am older, I am more aware of just how dramatic these changes and transitions in life are.

2) Given that this place (Canada) was the first place in my life where I actually entirely constructed and created my world and my life and everything was done on my own choice (rather than moving simply because of my parents work), I therefore feel the consequences and costs of the move that much deeper.

Or 3) I have somehow become more aware of what I feel about things around me?

My feeling is that it is a bit of all three, probably mostly 1 and 2.

In any case, after 3 days in a row of 18 hour days, working army from 7-3 and then organizing the move, I'm glad its over.

And while I don't look forward to the next one, I accept fully the inevitability of its arrival, it is simply a consequence of how I have decided to live my life.

There is something about Africa...

There is something that is special about Africa.

In his book, "The End of Poverty" by Jeffrey Sachs, he quotes the great biologist E. O Wilson, who argued that "human beings are 'hard wired' to feel a special resonance ("biophilia") with the African savannah, the place where our species arose some 150,000 years ago."

I have lived in and travelled to more than several countries within every continent (not Antarctica), and there's something about Africa that touches the bones and the blood of all who visit there (not the northern Arabic part per se (Egypt and Tunisia just had a different feel)), .

I spent my early early childhood, from age 1-3/4, in Malawi and then Zimbabwe.

The result is that I do not actually have any distinct memories from my time there, my earliest memory is from when I was 4, living in NDG in Montreal, I remember my father picking me up from school, I had painted a snake, and we walked home, stopping in the grass for a pause and he gave me a cookie.

However, there was something about "Africa" that always touched my heart or gave me a special feeling.

They say that cat's always remember the place they were born, and when they feel that they are about to die, they return to the place that they were born and wait to die there. There was one such Orange tabby who did that in our home in Singapore, my Dad tried in vain to "shish" him away but he was utterly resilient and indeed died a few weeks later.

Anyways, the point is, while I had no direct memories of my time as a toddler there, (everything I had were memories implanted by stories my parents would tell, and there were plenty of them), there were certain triggers and sensations that I would get when I was exposed to something I associated with "Africa".

One of the most obvious ones is music. Any time I hear Paul Simon's "Graceland Album",

Toto's "Africa



Or photos and typical African voices



I just get this feeling inside me, like a familiar, cozy, beauty.

I also have a blanket that was weaved for me by my parents neighbors in Malawi when I was born. It is brightly coloured (as most African clothing and material is), with orange and yellow spike patterning and it commemorates the 40th anniversary of the United Nations which coincidentallys falls near my birthday. I'm not sure why she choose the knit that for my blanket, but I do think its interesting. Nonetheless, I absolutely LOVE this blanket. I feel an unexplainable attachment to it.

During the christmas break of 2000-2001 I got the chance to return to Africa, finally. My Dad and I went to Tanzania and climbed Mt Kilimanjaro and safaried the Ngorogoro Crater as well as the Serengeti Plains. My memories from that trip remain perhaps some of the most distinct that I have from any place that I have been.

1) I remember going for a run with my dad, the stark contrast of our bright white shoes against red clay/dust, the unbelievably majestic horizon, plains with Acacia trees (see below), little kids suddenly emerging out of grass dwellings and running barefoot playfully and excitedly with us yelling "Wazungu Wazungu" which is swahili for "White man".

2) I remember just after we had climbed Kilimanjaro, we were all sitting with our guides and our cooks at the base having a post expedition beer (called Kili, actually). The white and brown face of the mountain was lit up in the background as the sun was setting on the opposite side of it, just behind us. Suddenly out of nowhere the cooks and guids began to sing, they sang about the mountain, for those of you who have been to Africa, you know, the sounds were just gorgeous as they were all in perfect harmony with one another.

3) Perhaps the coolest thing I have ever witnessed in my life. During New Years Eve of that holiday we were on the Serengeti plains. The hotel we were staying at had a large patio with a panoramic view of the entire plains with the sun setting behind it. At midnight a friend of my fathers, Gary MacPhie, brought out his bagpipes and began to play. If any of you know the bagpipes, you know that it is an instrument which for some reason seems to evoke emotion really well. These sounds, in combination with the view of the Serenget plains had everyone at the hotel, and especially the locals, absolutely mesmorized and in awe. It is something I will never forget.

And yet, with all of this comes the extreme poverty, the sometimes shockingly horrendous things that people do to each other there, the suffering and the tragedy.

My uncle, Alan, lived in South Africa for only 2 years of his life, but to his day (he now lives in Belgium and plays the viola for the Belgian National Opera), he says that his experience and memories from his time there remain the most impactful, special and overwhelming of anywhere else he's ever been.

But my uncle and my mother have both talked and emailed me about how Africa has a unique kind of energy that is so different from everywhere else. An electricity that is overwhelmingly beautiful, but one that can turn violent or tragic quickly.

Alan says that perhaps its because life is so full of this energy that it often seems to end quickly there. Like a candle or a match that burns too bright, it cannot sustain itself for as long.

I asked another friend of mine, Stephane, who spent his adolescent years in Guinea, to tell me what he thinks and feels about it.

"Its out of time, full of smells, majestic beauty but violence and languidity as well, an unbelievable mix" he said.

The impetous and swell of passion that sparked this blog entry was hearing African music coming from the headphones of someone in the lunch line today.

Although I feel I can say with relative certainty that Canada is where I would now call home. That unexplanable feeling that I get when I am touched in someway by Africa, means that it will always have something that Canada can not replace.

As I reflect on this post I realize that 2011 will be 10 years to the year, since I was in Tanzania with my father. Perhaps I need to return to Africa before then...

Canada: "When I get older, I will be stronger"

I felt so thrillingly fortunate on Canada Day. I finally felt so proud of my country. On Wednesday, for the first time I felt like I really began to get a taste of the current that flows through the bones of people here.

First of all, I cannot believe that it took 6 years for me to finally experience celebrating Canada Day in Ottawa. It is quite the spectacle. After spending 5 years in Montreal, where Canada Day is hardly perceptible (Quebec schedules July 1 as "moving day" so all the leases expire and Montreal is bogged down by traffic and stressed citizens), it was so refreshing to be a part of a celebration in Ottawa, where being proud of your country is widely accepted.

Everything about the evening made me so utterly proud of my country. I felt for the first time, that I really had a perceptible idea of what Canada is, in its ever evolving form, colour, tone and shape. It told me what Canada is striving so hard to be.

I've said this before to many of my close friends. I believe that Canada is uniquely placed. As the collision and blending of cultures and races becomes inevitable in modern life, Canada, a bilingual nation-state, founded not as a state for a particular distinct ethnic group but on the basis of particular social ideas (namely tolerance, equality, and individual freedoms), one in which everyone can come from anywhere to participate in, is ideally constructed for the modern world.

And Canadians try soo soo hard to be the ideals that it preaches. That striving for the ideal, to be the ideal, is what makes me so utterly proud of this country.

The lineup of performing artists reflected the distinctly diverse and equally valued and important elements in this country. First up was K'naan, a Somali-Canadian rapper who spoke glowingly about how July 1st was the independence day in Somalia as well, and how he was so lucky because he got to celebrate the birthdays of "both of his homes" on the same day.

That is the epitome of the Canadian immigrant experience that we are striving to create. That everyone can come here, and retain their cultural heritage and identity but also be Canadian and a part of this society. This is the mosaic.

The rest of the lineup included, a Quebec pop star, a first nations dancer from BC, a country rock star from Alberta, a female acapello group that sang in Spanish, English and French, and finally, Sarah McLachlan perhaps one of our most famous artists.

Whenever a little kid or an ethnic "minority" was shown on the jumbotron with maple leafs on their cheeks waving the flag, the crowd broke out into cheers and momentous uproar, we have so much pride in our diversity.

Sarah McLachlan told the audience just before beginning her first song "We are all so fortunate to be here, lets just think about that for a moment".

The lyrics of K'Naan's last song, "When I get older, I will be stronger, they'll call me freedom..." to me, exemplifies what it means to be Canadian for so many people in this country right now and in the audience that day. So full of hope and optimism about the future.

But it also could be the theme song for this country. Canada is young, only 143 years old. And it will only continue to get stronger. Its people all came here from somewhere else, striving for something better, a place where they can be safe, free to keep their culture, and be just as good and as accepted as everyone else.

It's not perfect, but we are working on it. It is slowly improving, and that is what is so cool.