Down South

Last leg yesterday was from Rouyn and to Collingwood. I dropped off V. and D. in North Bay after having a late lunch at the Burger Bar. It sort of sucks saying bye ... although D. I will see again in a week but not V. And suddenly it felt alone to be in a car. We work, live and play together. The fact that we get along so well is what makes this job worthwhile and fun. I would not have survived this long up north if it weren't for my coworkers. They keep me motivated at my work and in my own life. They have become my friends and have made me a better person.

Despite being on my own, the drive from North Bay through to Huntsville was gorgeous. Perfect view, few cars on the road. Also, I picked up a new FM transmitter for the iPad in North Bay so I could listen to my music! The green coming out on the trees and the grass was also nice - north of North Bay, it's still mostly snow-covered. Two hours later, I got lost around Orillia but stopped at a hunting/fishing supply store and got directions to Collingwood.

Yay! Dave and I finally reunited, after 2 months apart, at the Starbucks.

We went to the Oliver and Bonacini at the Blue Mountain Village for dinner. No, I had no special clothes. Still wearing my boots, my McKinley fleece reeking of sweat from being trapped in the car for 2 days, my hair in a mess. Honestly, I didn't care how I looked but I was wondering how others might perceive me. I got the $15 mac and cheese - I had this last summer with my mom for Canada's Day - but would have been a hundred times happier if I was eating the President's Choice Deluxe White Mac and Cheese that costs me $2 at the supermarket. Our dinner there would have covered half a tank of gas and a week's worth of groceries. Normally I'd be excited to be at the O&B but sitting amongst all this privileged white women, I secretly wished I could pick them up and stick them in Waskag to live there for a few weeks. I feel lucky that I have the ability to be mobile and see different cultures and lifestyles and yet I also feel that, at the same time, it's a responsibility for people to experience different cultures. This is the same feeling I felt after I returned from Asia.

To cut a long story short, the two of us stayed at a B&B in Wasaga Beach and went hiking at the scenic caves Sunday morning, after we spent an hour at the office dumping off BodyZorbs and science supplies.  It was beautiful at the top of the mountain with the tree canopy not yet developed, sunlight providing energy to spring ephemerals like blue cohosh and trilliums (some starting just to unfurl their petals). Turkey vultures zipping on the breeze just at the top of the mountain. I loved it. It was a great day but we had to leave at 2:30 pm to make it home for dinner.

And when I returned to the city, I just felt exhausted. The busy 400 highway with the aggressive drivers, the hideous advertising signs that fight for your attention, the people in the malls that looked overly concerned with how they look and what piercings they have and their makeup, everyone talking fast and sharp.

Trop. Trop. Trop.

Until today, I finally understood some of the Cree kids I met. The ones who spent a few years in Ottawa or Montreal and I asked them where they prefer. Life up north.