I'm happy to see some of you got a chance to vote on my poll about the worst thing about moving to an isolated island. The results show that most of you think having limited medical services available on-island is the worst. Hmmmm....sounds about right!
Things like giving up Tim Hortons or Walmart or MacDonalds may seem crappy but really, it's probably not a bad thing at all! Haha. They are things we think we may need but when it comes down to it the reality is, they need us more! Paying more for groceries sucks, but one can make smart choices and buy in season, etc etc. So, again, it's manageable. It's nice to live in a place where you can hop in your car and drive to a jazz club or movie theatre or shopping mall or amusement park...but there are plenty of ways to have fun without that stuff. It's alot cheaper too, probably! What are some fun things to do as a family (well, a couple...with a baby)? I'm thinking alot of beach days while it's warm!
I know one of the reasons I chose to come home to Nova Scotia to have Noora was because I didn't want to take the god-awful ferry (it's okay most days...but our trip in September was HORRID) to Prince Rupert and wait around until she decided to come out. Not my idea of a fun time. I wanted to be able to relax and do absolutely nothing right up until the very minute she popped out. The reason I would have to go to Prince Rupert? The doctor told me early on that there are no epidurals (yah...I wanted natural but I also wanted the OPTION to scream "EPIDURAL...NOW!" if needed) because there wasn't a full time anaestiologist on the island, and also, if anything went wrong we'd have to fly out via helicopter to the nearest big hospital. Another thing that may sound exciting.....but didn't strike me as something I wanted to do mid-labour. What happened to just going into the woods to have your baby....seriously!
So, I went home. In Nova Scotia, I was only 45 minutes from the nearest hospital, and yes the weather is unpredictable in February, but I figured that would be enough time, even in a snowstorm, to get where I needed to be! Well...I wasn't able to relax to the very last minute before she arrived (thank you stupid blood pressure and lame inductions...ugh) BUT I was able to enjoy my "last supper" at DQ with Willie and have all of my family AND my best friend with me for the birth. I had arrived in December and had my last "single" Christmas at home with my Momma, got to see alot of my friends before (and after) Noora came, and had all the support I needed to make it to where I am now...mother to a six-month old monkey, not locked up in the crazy house! (Being a mom is HARD...especially the first 3 weeks I think...I'm still shocked I made it, haha).
Other than baby-related medical services, I'm not really too sure about the quality or availability on Haida Gwaii. I know they recently built a big hospital in Masset and the hospital/medical clinic in Charlotte is pretty good from what I experienced. There were no problems getting the H1N1 vaccine (although I didn't think I needed it after having the actual flu while pregnant). I know Willie has to make appointments in advance when the eye doctor comes to town...I'm not sure how it is with dental stuff, which reminds me, I should make an appointment when we get back! So...all in all...it's not SCARY because there are ways to get off-island when you need to and there are some really good doctors and nurses around. I think the most isolated place I know about is the Australian Outback...they have to fly in a doctor for clinics around the area, but other than that...no medical services at all! Now, that's some scary stuff...especially when you have small children!
I guess the only other medical-related grievance I had while in Skidegate was the hours of operation for the pharmacy. I decided to let the H1N1 virus attack on a Saturday...how inconvienent! I tried calling the Nurse Helpline for BC but, surprise...they were busy (probably with all the other people dealing with that stupid flu). I wasn't sure who to call to see if I could take cough suppresent or ANYTHING to help me (yay for pregnancy), so I called the pharmacy...in Truro, Nova Scotia, haha. They were quite shocked to get the call from so far away..but they were able to tell me that, no, I wasn't allowed to take any of that and yes, I should go to Emergency. How resourceful am I? Haha.
So, I guess the point of this post, and the poll, is that no matter how crappy or scary something may appear at first, there are always ways around it. They may cost more or take more time to co-ordinate or more thought, but nothing is impossible. As we get ready to make our way back to the islands, I just have to remember to stay mindful of this and make the best out of the resources that are available to me!
Now....off to pack! Wish me luck!
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Fish Out Of Water
Tonight we finally got to see the episode of Fish Out of Water we've been waiting for! Don Kelly visits Haida Gwaii! It was really nice to see the islands and a few familiar faces like Willie's cousins, Auntie Ruthie and Nika. I got to see how you skin an octopus and make fried octopus balls (not something I'm going to rush out and try..but perhaps I will for the sake of my blog!), how to sink a rival canoe, and how to get low (not in the FloRida way, but in the men's traditional dance way). The most entertaining 30 minutes on television tonight!
For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of watching Don Kelly make a complete idiot of himself, it's really quite entertaining. The basis of the show is Don, an "urban Ojibway", tries to get back to his roots by immersing himself in the culture of one aboriginal group in North America per week. He tastes some traditional cuisine, takes on challenges unique to that group, and at the end receives his grade and traditional name. HILARIOUS. Really. He's so awkward and a comic in his time off..so you can just imagine the laughs. It airs on APTN and it's definitely worth checking out.
As I watched (and laughed numerous times), I gave some serious thought to the title of the show. Fish Out of Water. I've been that! I am the fish out of water (I can be a fish without particularly liking fish...it's allowed!). I've taken myself from a VERY small community in the wooded countryside, population: 99.9% white*, on the East Coast of Canada and planted myself on an island reserve, population: 10% white*, on the outskirts of the West Coast of Canada.
*don't quote me on the numbers...it's just a rough visual estimate, well, I asked Willie for the estimate for Skidegate...I tend not to notice skin colour at first glance (or second, or third...you get my point).
Before moving the first time, I didn't give much thought to that comparison. As stated above, I don't focus on things like race, religion, gender, sexual orientation, etc when it comes to making friends, choosing a partner, or deciding where to live. I love having friends from around the world and that's one thing I LOVED about going to Saint Mary's University...something like 30+ countries were being represented in the student population. Now there's your education right there, forget the books! How lucky am I to experience so many different cultures just by going to class? My core group of friends came from Canada, Norway, Oman, Mexico, Zambia, Nigeria, India, the Bahamas, St. Kitts, St. Lucia, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, and the list goes on and on.
Now, in a country like ours where the people come from all corners of the world, why is it that the people who have been here since the beginning have such a stigma attached to them? When I mentioned to a friend that I would be moving back to Haida Gwaii, and yes, to the RESERVE, I was told "it's not a place for someone like me" and that I would probably be resented for "stealing one of their men" or trying to learn the culture. Um.....what??? C'mon people...this is 2010 not the 1800s. Are people still under the impression that "natives" are bad people? That reserves are scary places where white people shouldn't even consider going, especially at night? I'll be the first to say that yes, SOME people are bad and there ARE things that go on that I do not approve of, such as substance abuse or violence or child abuse, BUT I know of people very close to home who have been involved in the same things, and surprise, they're WHITE.
This wasn't the first time I'd been looked down upon for living on a rez. I lost a childhood friend (who is also a relative) because he made a very inappropriate comment on Facebook. I had posted pictures of the house we were renting last April to show everyone at home. The "friend" wrote that he hoped I was enjoying a house paid for by his tax dollars. Needless to say, this didn't end well. I deleted it and when he confronted me about the removal of his comment, he proceeded to pick a fight with the underlying tone that I'm wasting my life with a native guy because they're no good. We are no longer friends.
Now....I didn't necessairly mean for this post to take such a somber tone but I think the stigma which follows First Nations people around is a big load of crap! Ask questions before passing judgement...you'd be surprised at the things you'll learn! Some of the best people I have ever met, including my fiance AND daughter, happen to be a bit brown! So what?
However, there some people I have met "on the rez" who I really do not care to know further. I am lucky that I never experienced the "let's do drugs and have fun" stage and, thankfully,Willie is on the same wavelength as me. We also do not drink and party ALL the time. We don't immerse ourselves in other people's drama, either. That's just who we are. We come from different backgrounds, yet we ended up on the same page. There are pros and cons to living anywhere, but for now, our decision is to raise our daughter in Skidegate.
I can't say if I've had any really negative personal experiences...if I have, I've been oblivious to them. I'm not naive in thinking everyone will like me, no matter where I go, but I can't be anyone but myself.
A fish out of water...and this fish is excited to try out her wings!
For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of watching Don Kelly make a complete idiot of himself, it's really quite entertaining. The basis of the show is Don, an "urban Ojibway", tries to get back to his roots by immersing himself in the culture of one aboriginal group in North America per week. He tastes some traditional cuisine, takes on challenges unique to that group, and at the end receives his grade and traditional name. HILARIOUS. Really. He's so awkward and a comic in his time off..so you can just imagine the laughs. It airs on APTN and it's definitely worth checking out.
As I watched (and laughed numerous times), I gave some serious thought to the title of the show. Fish Out of Water. I've been that! I am the fish out of water (I can be a fish without particularly liking fish...it's allowed!). I've taken myself from a VERY small community in the wooded countryside, population: 99.9% white*, on the East Coast of Canada and planted myself on an island reserve, population: 10% white*, on the outskirts of the West Coast of Canada.
*don't quote me on the numbers...it's just a rough visual estimate, well, I asked Willie for the estimate for Skidegate...I tend not to notice skin colour at first glance (or second, or third...you get my point).
Before moving the first time, I didn't give much thought to that comparison. As stated above, I don't focus on things like race, religion, gender, sexual orientation, etc when it comes to making friends, choosing a partner, or deciding where to live. I love having friends from around the world and that's one thing I LOVED about going to Saint Mary's University...something like 30+ countries were being represented in the student population. Now there's your education right there, forget the books! How lucky am I to experience so many different cultures just by going to class? My core group of friends came from Canada, Norway, Oman, Mexico, Zambia, Nigeria, India, the Bahamas, St. Kitts, St. Lucia, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, and the list goes on and on.
Now, in a country like ours where the people come from all corners of the world, why is it that the people who have been here since the beginning have such a stigma attached to them? When I mentioned to a friend that I would be moving back to Haida Gwaii, and yes, to the RESERVE, I was told "it's not a place for someone like me" and that I would probably be resented for "stealing one of their men" or trying to learn the culture. Um.....what??? C'mon people...this is 2010 not the 1800s. Are people still under the impression that "natives" are bad people? That reserves are scary places where white people shouldn't even consider going, especially at night? I'll be the first to say that yes, SOME people are bad and there ARE things that go on that I do not approve of, such as substance abuse or violence or child abuse, BUT I know of people very close to home who have been involved in the same things, and surprise, they're WHITE.
This wasn't the first time I'd been looked down upon for living on a rez. I lost a childhood friend (who is also a relative) because he made a very inappropriate comment on Facebook. I had posted pictures of the house we were renting last April to show everyone at home. The "friend" wrote that he hoped I was enjoying a house paid for by his tax dollars. Needless to say, this didn't end well. I deleted it and when he confronted me about the removal of his comment, he proceeded to pick a fight with the underlying tone that I'm wasting my life with a native guy because they're no good. We are no longer friends.
Now....I didn't necessairly mean for this post to take such a somber tone but I think the stigma which follows First Nations people around is a big load of crap! Ask questions before passing judgement...you'd be surprised at the things you'll learn! Some of the best people I have ever met, including my fiance AND daughter, happen to be a bit brown! So what?
However, there some people I have met "on the rez" who I really do not care to know further. I am lucky that I never experienced the "let's do drugs and have fun" stage and, thankfully,Willie is on the same wavelength as me. We also do not drink and party ALL the time. We don't immerse ourselves in other people's drama, either. That's just who we are. We come from different backgrounds, yet we ended up on the same page. There are pros and cons to living anywhere, but for now, our decision is to raise our daughter in Skidegate.
 |
| View from the old Band Council building |
I can't say if I've had any really negative personal experiences...if I have, I've been oblivious to them. I'm not naive in thinking everyone will like me, no matter where I go, but I can't be anyone but myself.
A fish out of water...and this fish is excited to try out her wings!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Here, fishie, fishie!
Today was very relaxing for me. Noora and I slept (in between feedings) until noon and kept up the lazy pace all afternoon. I read some of my book, The Happiness Project (which I highly recommend..it's amazing), and she napped. Some housework was accomplished...at a very drawn-out pace. I'm still doing laundry at 10pm but that's ok with me!
I spent some of my relaxation time doing research for my blog. I have ideas for entries popping my head all the time, especially late at night. I thought...it's all well and good to write about stuff, but I should research some ideas more so I can pass on the knowledge to my readers. Plus, it helps me learn more and that was my main goal when I started blogging!
So.......what to research....
.......hmmmm......so many options....
...too bad all of my information will have to come from the internet.....
maybe it would be easier to do this blogging when I'm actually back in Skidegate....
.....wow, I'm good at procrastinating!
After my brain got on board with my inital plan, I decided on a topic. Food! What's better than talking about food?!
Usually the answer to that is nothing! This time my answer is anything.....*shudders*. See, the thing I learned early on about the Haida diet, traditionally and currently, is it consists of ALOT of seafood. Salmon, especially. Now, most of you may ask, what could possibly be wrong with that? My best friend would DIE if she was able to eat seafood 90% of the time! So would many other people, I'm sure. Unfortunately, I would probably die if I DID have to eat it 90% of the time. Fish and I have never been friends...not even mere acquaintances, really.
How is this possible? Didn't I grow up on the East Coast? Isn't lobster one of Nova Scotia's biggest sellers? Why do I despise fish? Maybe I was adopted...yes...that must be it!
One of the first things I remember Nuni Pat asking me when I arrived in Skidegate is, "Do you like lobster?" I felt terrible when I had to look her in the eye and say no...it felt like I was telling a child that I ran over Santa Claus! Seriously, what's wrong with me! You'd think I could fake it...but no. I had moved to the Salmon capital of the world and I didn't want anything to do with it. Pass the Kraft Dinner, please!
My first fishy meal came a few days after I arrived when Auntie Ruthie invited me to lunch at the career office. I was excited to spend more time with Willie and I heard she was an amazing cook..so I arrived with a rumbling tummy. Halibut with an asiago cream sauce. Oh crap! But...being rude is not something I enjoy, so I took a small piece.
First bite.....I tried to swallow it without chewing because I knew that would release any fishy taste lurking under the sauce...it's just chicken, I thought...ok, success! I swallowed.
Second bite...I chewed a tiny bit...hmmmm, no fishy taste...I let myself taste the sauce and feel the texture of the fish. Huh....it's not bad! I swallowed with a smile that time.
.....
I even asked for seconds!!! One thing about Auntie Ruthie's cooking...an army could stop by unexpectedly and they would be fed! Okay, so maybe fish isn't so bad after all. Maybe I'll even try salmon next.
Have you ever heard the say "Be careful what you wish for"? Yes, well, salmon presented itself on my plate at Willie's mother's house. There was skin on it....I held back the urge to vomit because that would most definitely be considered rude. Here goes....open the hatch and in you go....
Well, I had to admit it, but even though it did have a fishy taste it was pretty tasty! I think I even finished my piece before Willie finished his! Ha! I'm a convert! I LOVE FISH!!! Well....no...that's going a bit far. Pregnancy didn't help me get over my dislike of fish because even the word "fish" would send me to the toilet. So....most of my fish experiences happed before July/August and after February of this year. One thing I do NOT think I'll try and get cozy with is gao (fish eggs)....I had some on a piece of seaweed which Willie's mom called "Haida chips". ICK!! It was very salty. I'm not a fan of salt. Plus the fact I knew it was fish eggs made me feel gross.
I am optimistic for my future in fish-eating, though. I have been pushing myself to try more things like fish chowder (which was AMAZING...if you're ever at Salty's on the Pictou waterfront, try it...mmm) and scallops (they're ok...), and shrimp (yum!) and I'm happy to report, I've made several fish dishes myself! I can do this!! I even went a step further and introduced it to Noora at my friend's wedding. She loved it and has had more since then. I think she prefered the smoked salmon! In the back of my mind, I could hear Nuni Pat say "you have to get your baby eating fish from an early age, it's part of her heritage". At the time I wasn't very open to the thought and said it was Willie's department....
Noora and I have had more fish than Daddy this summer!
I spent some of my relaxation time doing research for my blog. I have ideas for entries popping my head all the time, especially late at night. I thought...it's all well and good to write about stuff, but I should research some ideas more so I can pass on the knowledge to my readers. Plus, it helps me learn more and that was my main goal when I started blogging!
So.......what to research....
.......hmmmm......so many options....
...too bad all of my information will have to come from the internet.....
maybe it would be easier to do this blogging when I'm actually back in Skidegate....
.....wow, I'm good at procrastinating!
After my brain got on board with my inital plan, I decided on a topic. Food! What's better than talking about food?!
Usually the answer to that is nothing! This time my answer is anything.....*shudders*. See, the thing I learned early on about the Haida diet, traditionally and currently, is it consists of ALOT of seafood. Salmon, especially. Now, most of you may ask, what could possibly be wrong with that? My best friend would DIE if she was able to eat seafood 90% of the time! So would many other people, I'm sure. Unfortunately, I would probably die if I DID have to eat it 90% of the time. Fish and I have never been friends...not even mere acquaintances, really.
How is this possible? Didn't I grow up on the East Coast? Isn't lobster one of Nova Scotia's biggest sellers? Why do I despise fish? Maybe I was adopted...yes...that must be it!
One of the first things I remember Nuni Pat asking me when I arrived in Skidegate is, "Do you like lobster?" I felt terrible when I had to look her in the eye and say no...it felt like I was telling a child that I ran over Santa Claus! Seriously, what's wrong with me! You'd think I could fake it...but no. I had moved to the Salmon capital of the world and I didn't want anything to do with it. Pass the Kraft Dinner, please!
My first fishy meal came a few days after I arrived when Auntie Ruthie invited me to lunch at the career office. I was excited to spend more time with Willie and I heard she was an amazing cook..so I arrived with a rumbling tummy. Halibut with an asiago cream sauce. Oh crap! But...being rude is not something I enjoy, so I took a small piece.
First bite.....I tried to swallow it without chewing because I knew that would release any fishy taste lurking under the sauce...it's just chicken, I thought...ok, success! I swallowed.
Second bite...I chewed a tiny bit...hmmmm, no fishy taste...I let myself taste the sauce and feel the texture of the fish. Huh....it's not bad! I swallowed with a smile that time.
.....
I even asked for seconds!!! One thing about Auntie Ruthie's cooking...an army could stop by unexpectedly and they would be fed! Okay, so maybe fish isn't so bad after all. Maybe I'll even try salmon next.
Have you ever heard the say "Be careful what you wish for"? Yes, well, salmon presented itself on my plate at Willie's mother's house. There was skin on it....I held back the urge to vomit because that would most definitely be considered rude. Here goes....open the hatch and in you go....
Well, I had to admit it, but even though it did have a fishy taste it was pretty tasty! I think I even finished my piece before Willie finished his! Ha! I'm a convert! I LOVE FISH!!! Well....no...that's going a bit far. Pregnancy didn't help me get over my dislike of fish because even the word "fish" would send me to the toilet. So....most of my fish experiences happed before July/August and after February of this year. One thing I do NOT think I'll try and get cozy with is gao (fish eggs)....I had some on a piece of seaweed which Willie's mom called "Haida chips". ICK!! It was very salty. I'm not a fan of salt. Plus the fact I knew it was fish eggs made me feel gross.
I am optimistic for my future in fish-eating, though. I have been pushing myself to try more things like fish chowder (which was AMAZING...if you're ever at Salty's on the Pictou waterfront, try it...mmm) and scallops (they're ok...), and shrimp (yum!) and I'm happy to report, I've made several fish dishes myself! I can do this!! I even went a step further and introduced it to Noora at my friend's wedding. She loved it and has had more since then. I think she prefered the smoked salmon! In the back of my mind, I could hear Nuni Pat say "you have to get your baby eating fish from an early age, it's part of her heritage". At the time I wasn't very open to the thought and said it was Willie's department....
Noora and I have had more fish than Daddy this summer!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Somewhere over the Rockies...
I thought I would reflect on my first impressions of Haida Gwaii today, as it is one week from today when I'll see it again. Well...I think it will be...we still haven't booked our flights or packed yet. Oops! But we're not perfect at procrastinating...we DID buy Noora her first piece of luggage! Yay for progress!
So....first impressions...well, I'll tell ya..I didn't have a good feeling when the ticket lady in the Vancouver airport told me I had to "walk outside to get onto the plane". Um....seriously? They make planes like that in real life? I honestly thought only private planes and helicopters had "walk-on-yourself" stairs. Ugh...then I saw it. Hello, Tin Can. My immediate reaction was I'm going to die in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It was cozy...very cozy. I DID get a jolt of excitement when I breathed in enough oxygen to allow myself to focus on my surroundings; Haida symbols adorned hats, jackets and a shiny gold necklace which instantly caught my attention. Hmmm, I thought, they obviously didn't die on the WAY to Vancouver...so here's hoping I don't die on the way FROM Vancouver.
Willie thought it would be nice to show me their old cabin/schoolbus in Copper Bay. I'm pretty sure his sister's van yelled at us for making it drive on those roads. WOW....bumpy! The Copper Bay road seemed to have a mysterious feel to it. I was told at one time the road was covered in a canopy of tree branches...I bet that was beautiful but guess what, LOGGING ruined it...ugh. Still, it was a very nice ride. I was surprised to see moss growing all the way up the trees and hanging from branches. Wow, only in a rainforest area I guess. I had never experienced that in Nova Scotia! Then again, our trees are dwarfs compared to these. When we did arrive at the old campsite...there was a bus missing. Willie was shocked to see the deck gone too. Hahaha....poor guy. On our way back, we stopped so I could dip my toes in the Pacific Ocean.....brrrrr!! But I swear it was still warmer than the Atlantic, even if it was only the end of March!
My next moment of "OH GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE" came when we had to board a ferry to get to the house. Really, now? A tiny model airplane and now a bath toy? I say this because it was a small, very open "ferry". Something that one perhaps WOULD use in a bathtub and not the open frickin' ocean. I see now why the Haida are so resilient! How else would they travel?! Well...as scared as I was, I did manage to enjoy part of the ride. Willie and I got out of his sister's van and enjoyed the slightly-foggy and slightly-chilly view. Little islands tucked away, seagulls gathering on another, open water and then....off in the distance...home.
The smell is very distinct when you arrive on the island. I noticed it again when we returned from our adventure to Prince Rupert for my 20-week ultrasound. I can't really describe it...it just is. Cool, fresh air mixed with a hint of saltiness which is then enhanced with that it's-about-to-rain aroma. And I swear there's a hint of magic in the air. Hmm....no, not even that did it justice. Well, folks, this is a case of "come smell it yourself"!
Driving off of the ferry was another harrowing experience because I thought we were going to fall into the water or bust the van up. But we survived! Huh..it was like he'd done it a million times! Go figure! We drove into Skidegate and he took me on a tour of the village. Why are all the houses SO close together, I thought. I was feeling a bit clausterphobic. Where I came from there was tons of space between houses. I mean, my neighbours consisted of sheep, hay fields, my grandmother's abandoned house and my uncle's house. Any other neighbors were a half-mile down the road in either direction basically. This would take some getting used to. But the view of the ocean helped fend off a panic attack. It's breathtaking. Anywhere you look you either see huge cliffs and cedar trees or open ocean.
I guess you could say I was overwhelmed. Everything was so different. When we finally got back to his mom's place, I got a very warm welcome, some hugs, a few toys to play with from his nephew (peace offerings, maybe? haha) and a reminder to call my mother. News from the other end?
Snowstorm.
Ahhhhh, it was good to be on the West West Coast.
So....first impressions...well, I'll tell ya..I didn't have a good feeling when the ticket lady in the Vancouver airport told me I had to "walk outside to get onto the plane". Um....seriously? They make planes like that in real life? I honestly thought only private planes and helicopters had "walk-on-yourself" stairs. Ugh...then I saw it. Hello, Tin Can. My immediate reaction was I'm going to die in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It was cozy...very cozy. I DID get a jolt of excitement when I breathed in enough oxygen to allow myself to focus on my surroundings; Haida symbols adorned hats, jackets and a shiny gold necklace which instantly caught my attention. Hmmm, I thought, they obviously didn't die on the WAY to Vancouver...so here's hoping I don't die on the way FROM Vancouver.
Willie thought it would be nice to show me their old cabin/schoolbus in Copper Bay. I'm pretty sure his sister's van yelled at us for making it drive on those roads. WOW....bumpy! The Copper Bay road seemed to have a mysterious feel to it. I was told at one time the road was covered in a canopy of tree branches...I bet that was beautiful but guess what, LOGGING ruined it...ugh. Still, it was a very nice ride. I was surprised to see moss growing all the way up the trees and hanging from branches. Wow, only in a rainforest area I guess. I had never experienced that in Nova Scotia! Then again, our trees are dwarfs compared to these. When we did arrive at the old campsite...there was a bus missing. Willie was shocked to see the deck gone too. Hahaha....poor guy. On our way back, we stopped so I could dip my toes in the Pacific Ocean.....brrrrr!! But I swear it was still warmer than the Atlantic, even if it was only the end of March!
My next moment of "OH GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE" came when we had to board a ferry to get to the house. Really, now? A tiny model airplane and now a bath toy? I say this because it was a small, very open "ferry". Something that one perhaps WOULD use in a bathtub and not the open frickin' ocean. I see now why the Haida are so resilient! How else would they travel?! Well...as scared as I was, I did manage to enjoy part of the ride. Willie and I got out of his sister's van and enjoyed the slightly-foggy and slightly-chilly view. Little islands tucked away, seagulls gathering on another, open water and then....off in the distance...home.
 |
| Welcome to Skidegate! |
The smell is very distinct when you arrive on the island. I noticed it again when we returned from our adventure to Prince Rupert for my 20-week ultrasound. I can't really describe it...it just is. Cool, fresh air mixed with a hint of saltiness which is then enhanced with that it's-about-to-rain aroma. And I swear there's a hint of magic in the air. Hmm....no, not even that did it justice. Well, folks, this is a case of "come smell it yourself"!
Driving off of the ferry was another harrowing experience because I thought we were going to fall into the water or bust the van up. But we survived! Huh..it was like he'd done it a million times! Go figure! We drove into Skidegate and he took me on a tour of the village. Why are all the houses SO close together, I thought. I was feeling a bit clausterphobic. Where I came from there was tons of space between houses. I mean, my neighbours consisted of sheep, hay fields, my grandmother's abandoned house and my uncle's house. Any other neighbors were a half-mile down the road in either direction basically. This would take some getting used to. But the view of the ocean helped fend off a panic attack. It's breathtaking. Anywhere you look you either see huge cliffs and cedar trees or open ocean.
 |
| View of Skidegate from the old band office |
I guess you could say I was overwhelmed. Everything was so different. When we finally got back to his mom's place, I got a very warm welcome, some hugs, a few toys to play with from his nephew (peace offerings, maybe? haha) and a reminder to call my mother. News from the other end?
Snowstorm.
Ahhhhh, it was good to be on the West West Coast.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
The Princess and the Geese by Christie Harris
Once it was a supernatural princess who vanished. But she had not been tricked into trouble. She had vanished because she was unhappy about living with humans. This is the way it happened.
It was the time of very long ago, when things were different in the vast green wilderness of the Northwest. It was a time when Mouse Woman was living on the Haida islands.
It was early in the spring. Geese were filling the northern flyway with their wild calls as they moved toward their summer feeding grounds in great flying wedges.
A chief’s son was out alone, watching the mighty travellers of the air with longing eyes. For not even the biggest and finest of the Haida canoes could venture as far as the great birds. He was looking up at the birds with shining eyes when he heard a chattering of geese at a nearby lake.
Eager to observe the mighty visitors at close range, he glided warily toward the sound. But there were no geese. There were only two maidens swimming near the shore. They were swimming and laughing and chattering merrily.
The young man caught his breath. For there was something geeselike about the chattering. And, shining in the sun, two large gooseskins lay at the edge of the lake. “Goose maides!” He scarcely breathed it. For these were supernatural maides, Narnauks. And they were as beautiful as a summer sky. He longed to speak to them. But he knew that they would take flight at the first sign of a human being. Unless – His eyes widened with a thought. The goose maidens could not take flight without their flying blankets. He crept warily toward the gooseskins.
A startled cry told him he was discovered. Wild to speak to the two beautiful maidens, he threw himself down on the gooseskins so they could not take them. The elder maiden came to him, hissing like an outraged gander. But the younger maiden only looked shyly at him. Caught in the spell of her eyes, the youth rose to his feet, picking up the gooseskins. The elder maiden almost snatched hers from his hand. But the younger stood looking at him with great wondering eyes. And a wild thought leaped up in the young man. Perhaps she would marry him. With the courage born of his yearning, he held her gooseskin toward her, “If you will marry me, Princess, I will give you your flying blanket.”
The elder maiden hissed in outrage at such presumption, “Marry you! YOU! A mere human!” But the younger one still looked at him. “I will marry you,” she whispered. The elder maiden hissed at both of them. Angrily she put on her gooseskin. And then she was a goose, flapping furiously out into the lake. With a great thunder of wings and a fury of wild calls, she rose. She flew up, up, up, up until she was lost in the vast blueness of the sky.
“She has gone home to Skyland”, the younger maiden whispered. And her shining eyes were shadowed with concern. “I will take you home to my village,” he assured her. “You will be warmly welcomed by my family,” But now a shadow darkened his eyes. For the beautiful princess was a narnauk. His family would look askance at her. Unless they did not know she was a narnauk. Putting her flying blanket on the ground, the youth took off his top martenskin robe and laid it gently on her shoulders. Then he folded up her gooseskin and hid it under his second robe. “May we keep this as our secret, Princess?” he begged. She nodded, though her eyes were still anxious. They started toward the village. And when they were nearing it, the youth hid the gooseskin in the heart of an old cedar tree. “Keep it safe!” the maiden murmured to the tree. The youth looked at her with a moment’s sadness. “You will be so happy with my family that you will not want it again, Princess.”
For a time, she was happy with his human family. Her husband could see the questions in his parents eyes. But they were a proud and proper people. They did not pry into their daughter-in-law’s concerns. They recognized the nobility in her bearing and in her manners. They noted the richness of her broad black neck ring. Obviously she was a princess who had been spirited away from her own people and was now keeping herself secret from some dreaded enemy. But she did walk a little oddly, they confessed to one another.
“Since my wife came in springtime, with the geese,” her husband suggested, “let us call her Goose Princess.” He caught her grateful and loving glance. Food was her first problem; for she did not like their food, until a woman chanced to steam the roots of plants she gathered near the mouth of the creek. Goose Princess ate those with relish. “Though I do wish they weren’t cooked,” she confessed to her husband. For some time, she seemed happy enough in her new home. Then her husband began to notice something. Often at night she glided silently out of the house. And when she returned she was cold. Cold as the night air. Cold as the seawater.
One night he stealthily followed her. He saw her take her flying blanket from the heart of the cedar tree. He watched her fly off to graze on sea grasses. And as he went back to the house so that she would know he had watched her, his heart was heavy. Goose Princess was not satisfied to be a human. Summer passed. And winter came. A desperately cold winter. Fierce gales uprooted trees and set the sea smoking with blown spray. Canoes could not go out on the sea for food. Snow and ice locked in the island. And people in the great cedar houses grew hungry. For, in the Haida islands, no one was prepared for such a winter.
One day when they were outdoors, Goose Princess said “Sh!” to her husband. And she seemed to listen to the sky; though he could hear nothing but the wind. “My father is sending food to us,” she told him. To the amazement of the whole village, a great flying wedge of geese came out of the south. And when they had gone, there was a mound of roots and grasses behind the house where she lived. “Strange food for people!” envious neighbours muttered. There was fear and scourn – as well as envy – in their voices. For people do not like unaccountable happenings.
Again and again during the bitter winter, flying wedges of geese came out of the south, brining more roots and grasses for the family. “That family will be turning into gaggling geese,” a man muttered. His friends laughed. For there was now much gossip in the village. There were shy little goose walks and goose hisses. And there were many sidelong glances at the mysterious princess who had come from no-one-knew-where. She did walk very oddly, people whispered to one another.
Goose Princess heard the whispers. She caught the glances and the goose walks and hisses. “They are mocking me,” she told her husband. And for the very first time, she hissed at him. “They are mocking me; for humans are always suspicious of people who are different.” Then her eyes blazed with anger. “And they are mocking the geese, who are greater than they are.” She raced out of the house. But, after a while, she came back.
Then the worst of the storms was over. It was early spring. Geese filled the northern flyway with their wild calls as they moved toward their summer feeding grounds in great flying wedges. And as she watched their high passing, Goose Princess was sad and quiet. Her eyes were full of yearning. One night she slipped out of the house. Alarmed by what might happen, her husband followed her. But she seemed to fly on the wings of her longing for her own kind. And as he fell farther behind, she reached the cedar tree. With a quick, grateful word to the tree, she snatched up the gooseskin and put it on. Then, with a great thunder of wings and a trumpeting of wild calls, she flew up, up, up, up until she was lost in the vast darkness of the sky.
Her husband sank to the ground in despair. He knew he had lost his beautiful goose princess. At long last, he sadly went back to the village. Next day, the rumours flashed from house to house. Goose Princess had vanished mysteriously as she had come. “She was not a proper woman,” people whispered to one another. And now there was fear in their voices. For they had offended a narnauk. And who knew what would happen to them? They begun to turn angry glances at the young man who had brought her to the village. It was his fault that they were now in danger. The young man neither heard the whispers nor saw the glances. For he was lost in grief. When he finally stirred himself, he made his way to the remote house of a shaman, a witch doctor who had almost left the ways of man to have closer contact with the spirit world.
“My wife has vanished,” the young man told the shaman. “So I wish to find the Trail to her father’s village.” The old man’s glittering eyes seemed to pierce into the young man’s innermost being. “Your wife’s father is a Great One almost beyond the thinking of a human being,” he said in his strange, old, cracked voice. The young man nodded. He knew his father-in-law was a Supernatural Being. “Where is the Trail to his village?” he insisted. The old medicine man pierced him again with his glittering wild eyes before he said “You are a worth man. The trail runs behind my house.” Pausing only long enough to present the old shaman with a small, but beautifully carved box, the young man raced out to see the Trail, the Spirit trail that would lead him to Skyland.
Growth was so dense on the Haida islands that men seldom ventured into the depth of the forest; they clung to the seacoast. But now a trail seemed to open up before him as he moved. And it closed behind him. His heart was pounding. For who knew what would happen along such a trail? He pushed from his mind the old stories of fearsome Beings who lived there. As he moved along, he seemed to have left even time behind him. For his world was a world of summer. He had gone a long, long way when he came upon the mouse. A white mouse! It had cranberries in its mouth. And it was vainly trying to get over a huge tree that had fallen across its pathway. With instant compassion for the small creature, he picked it up and lifted it over the fallen tree. He watched it scurry off into the a stand of large ferns. Then he heard a voice, a squeaky little voice. “Come in and speak to the Chief-woman!” it commanded. Startled by the words, the young man lifted a leaning fern. And there, to his amazement, was a house. A huge, underground house. “Come in!” It was a sharp command in the same squeaky voice. He went in. And there was the tiniest of old women, cooking cranberries in a hot-stone box. She was watching him with big, busy, mouse eyes. “You are a worth man,” she said to him in the same voice. “And since you have helped me, I will help you. Though it is not a proper marriage,” she added tartly. “It is a marriage, Grandmother.” He protested. “It is a marriage,” she conceded. “And I owe you assistance.” For of course, this was Mouse Woman. And of course she knew the obligation of a gift. If help had been given, the helper must be compensated. She marched off to a corner of her house and began to open a nest of five carved chests. From the innermost chest, she took out a tiny mouseskin. “I wore this for hunting when I was young,” she told him, with just a little sigh for her long gone days of hunting. She held it out for him. “Wear it!” she commanded. “Wear...that?” The young man looked at the tiny mouseskin. He looked at his own big body. “Wear it!” she repeated. To humour her, he took it. And to his utter amazement, he could enter it the way the reflection of a giant tree can enter a tiny puddle. He could move around in it, as if he were a mouse.
“Practice wearing it!” she commanded. And she pointed toward the outdoors. The young man, now seeming to be a mouse, scampered around logs and mosses for a brief time. Then went back into the house. “Now,” the tiny old woman said, “as soon as you have eaten, be on your way! Though it is not a proper marriage.” “It is a marriage, Grandmother,” he answered. Removing the garment, he ate and went on his way.
This time he met only one creature – a strange little man with one leg, one arm and half a head. “Master Hopper!” he gasped, watching the halfman bop boisterously around the base of a red pole that seemed to reach up and up forever, beyond the highest treetops. He had heard about Master Hopper, but he had not believed in him. Then his gaze fastened to the pole. He had heard stories about that, too, and had scarcely believed them. This was the red pole that reached up to Skyland. Where Goose Princess was.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he entered his magical mouseskin and scampered up the red pole. He climbed up and up and up beyond the treetops, up and up and up beyond the eagles, up and up and up beyond the clouds, up and up and up until he reached the door into Skyland. It was an alarming door. It opened and shut again as fast as the blink of an eye. He watched it for a long time. And only when he had caught the rhythm of its opening did he ready himself to leap through. As a mouse, he leaped through. Then, as a man, he looked about him. Skyland was dazzling. Houses as blue as the sky and as white as the clouds were decorated with tiny stars. Before the biggest house he saw the Goose pole. Then he saw Goose Princess running toward him. She was embracing him. She was taking him into the house of her father who was Town Chief. “You will be happy here,” she told him. And for some time, he was happy. Then he began to long for the great sea where he had gone seahunting. He began to long for the smell of the cedars, the screams of the seagulls, the sound of the rain on the roof. He began to long for his family.
“My son-in-law is not happy here,” the Town Chief told his daughter. She nodded in sad agreement. “He is not happy here” As she had not been happy living among humans. “I will send him back to his own kind,” the Town Chief told her. And again she nodded in sad agreement. She understood his yearning for his own kind. The Town Chief summoned Eagle, and Rave and Heron and Seagull to consult about the manner of the young man’s return to earth. And it was agreed that they would carry him back while he was sleeping.
So it was that the young man woke up next morning in his own house in his own village. “Did I dream it all? He asked himself, glancing about at the familiar walls and smokehole. He then saw the mouse skin. But as he reached, it vanished. He blinked his eyes to clear them. But the mouseskin had truly vanished. And he thought he heard a small, sharp-voiced mutter, “It was not a proper marriage”.
Indeed, it was not a proper marriage. But, as long as he lived, the Goose Princess’s husband watched the high passing of the geese with a great yearning. He went often to lonely waters. But he never again found a goose maiden swimming.
It was the time of very long ago, when things were different in the vast green wilderness of the Northwest. It was a time when Mouse Woman was living on the Haida islands.
It was early in the spring. Geese were filling the northern flyway with their wild calls as they moved toward their summer feeding grounds in great flying wedges.
A chief’s son was out alone, watching the mighty travellers of the air with longing eyes. For not even the biggest and finest of the Haida canoes could venture as far as the great birds. He was looking up at the birds with shining eyes when he heard a chattering of geese at a nearby lake.
Eager to observe the mighty visitors at close range, he glided warily toward the sound. But there were no geese. There were only two maidens swimming near the shore. They were swimming and laughing and chattering merrily.
The young man caught his breath. For there was something geeselike about the chattering. And, shining in the sun, two large gooseskins lay at the edge of the lake. “Goose maides!” He scarcely breathed it. For these were supernatural maides, Narnauks. And they were as beautiful as a summer sky. He longed to speak to them. But he knew that they would take flight at the first sign of a human being. Unless – His eyes widened with a thought. The goose maidens could not take flight without their flying blankets. He crept warily toward the gooseskins.
A startled cry told him he was discovered. Wild to speak to the two beautiful maidens, he threw himself down on the gooseskins so they could not take them. The elder maiden came to him, hissing like an outraged gander. But the younger maiden only looked shyly at him. Caught in the spell of her eyes, the youth rose to his feet, picking up the gooseskins. The elder maiden almost snatched hers from his hand. But the younger stood looking at him with great wondering eyes. And a wild thought leaped up in the young man. Perhaps she would marry him. With the courage born of his yearning, he held her gooseskin toward her, “If you will marry me, Princess, I will give you your flying blanket.”
The elder maiden hissed in outrage at such presumption, “Marry you! YOU! A mere human!” But the younger one still looked at him. “I will marry you,” she whispered. The elder maiden hissed at both of them. Angrily she put on her gooseskin. And then she was a goose, flapping furiously out into the lake. With a great thunder of wings and a fury of wild calls, she rose. She flew up, up, up, up until she was lost in the vast blueness of the sky.
“She has gone home to Skyland”, the younger maiden whispered. And her shining eyes were shadowed with concern. “I will take you home to my village,” he assured her. “You will be warmly welcomed by my family,” But now a shadow darkened his eyes. For the beautiful princess was a narnauk. His family would look askance at her. Unless they did not know she was a narnauk. Putting her flying blanket on the ground, the youth took off his top martenskin robe and laid it gently on her shoulders. Then he folded up her gooseskin and hid it under his second robe. “May we keep this as our secret, Princess?” he begged. She nodded, though her eyes were still anxious. They started toward the village. And when they were nearing it, the youth hid the gooseskin in the heart of an old cedar tree. “Keep it safe!” the maiden murmured to the tree. The youth looked at her with a moment’s sadness. “You will be so happy with my family that you will not want it again, Princess.”
For a time, she was happy with his human family. Her husband could see the questions in his parents eyes. But they were a proud and proper people. They did not pry into their daughter-in-law’s concerns. They recognized the nobility in her bearing and in her manners. They noted the richness of her broad black neck ring. Obviously she was a princess who had been spirited away from her own people and was now keeping herself secret from some dreaded enemy. But she did walk a little oddly, they confessed to one another.
“Since my wife came in springtime, with the geese,” her husband suggested, “let us call her Goose Princess.” He caught her grateful and loving glance. Food was her first problem; for she did not like their food, until a woman chanced to steam the roots of plants she gathered near the mouth of the creek. Goose Princess ate those with relish. “Though I do wish they weren’t cooked,” she confessed to her husband. For some time, she seemed happy enough in her new home. Then her husband began to notice something. Often at night she glided silently out of the house. And when she returned she was cold. Cold as the night air. Cold as the seawater.
One night he stealthily followed her. He saw her take her flying blanket from the heart of the cedar tree. He watched her fly off to graze on sea grasses. And as he went back to the house so that she would know he had watched her, his heart was heavy. Goose Princess was not satisfied to be a human. Summer passed. And winter came. A desperately cold winter. Fierce gales uprooted trees and set the sea smoking with blown spray. Canoes could not go out on the sea for food. Snow and ice locked in the island. And people in the great cedar houses grew hungry. For, in the Haida islands, no one was prepared for such a winter.
One day when they were outdoors, Goose Princess said “Sh!” to her husband. And she seemed to listen to the sky; though he could hear nothing but the wind. “My father is sending food to us,” she told him. To the amazement of the whole village, a great flying wedge of geese came out of the south. And when they had gone, there was a mound of roots and grasses behind the house where she lived. “Strange food for people!” envious neighbours muttered. There was fear and scourn – as well as envy – in their voices. For people do not like unaccountable happenings.
Again and again during the bitter winter, flying wedges of geese came out of the south, brining more roots and grasses for the family. “That family will be turning into gaggling geese,” a man muttered. His friends laughed. For there was now much gossip in the village. There were shy little goose walks and goose hisses. And there were many sidelong glances at the mysterious princess who had come from no-one-knew-where. She did walk very oddly, people whispered to one another.
Goose Princess heard the whispers. She caught the glances and the goose walks and hisses. “They are mocking me,” she told her husband. And for the very first time, she hissed at him. “They are mocking me; for humans are always suspicious of people who are different.” Then her eyes blazed with anger. “And they are mocking the geese, who are greater than they are.” She raced out of the house. But, after a while, she came back.
Then the worst of the storms was over. It was early spring. Geese filled the northern flyway with their wild calls as they moved toward their summer feeding grounds in great flying wedges. And as she watched their high passing, Goose Princess was sad and quiet. Her eyes were full of yearning. One night she slipped out of the house. Alarmed by what might happen, her husband followed her. But she seemed to fly on the wings of her longing for her own kind. And as he fell farther behind, she reached the cedar tree. With a quick, grateful word to the tree, she snatched up the gooseskin and put it on. Then, with a great thunder of wings and a trumpeting of wild calls, she flew up, up, up, up until she was lost in the vast darkness of the sky.
Her husband sank to the ground in despair. He knew he had lost his beautiful goose princess. At long last, he sadly went back to the village. Next day, the rumours flashed from house to house. Goose Princess had vanished mysteriously as she had come. “She was not a proper woman,” people whispered to one another. And now there was fear in their voices. For they had offended a narnauk. And who knew what would happen to them? They begun to turn angry glances at the young man who had brought her to the village. It was his fault that they were now in danger. The young man neither heard the whispers nor saw the glances. For he was lost in grief. When he finally stirred himself, he made his way to the remote house of a shaman, a witch doctor who had almost left the ways of man to have closer contact with the spirit world.
“My wife has vanished,” the young man told the shaman. “So I wish to find the Trail to her father’s village.” The old man’s glittering eyes seemed to pierce into the young man’s innermost being. “Your wife’s father is a Great One almost beyond the thinking of a human being,” he said in his strange, old, cracked voice. The young man nodded. He knew his father-in-law was a Supernatural Being. “Where is the Trail to his village?” he insisted. The old medicine man pierced him again with his glittering wild eyes before he said “You are a worth man. The trail runs behind my house.” Pausing only long enough to present the old shaman with a small, but beautifully carved box, the young man raced out to see the Trail, the Spirit trail that would lead him to Skyland.
Growth was so dense on the Haida islands that men seldom ventured into the depth of the forest; they clung to the seacoast. But now a trail seemed to open up before him as he moved. And it closed behind him. His heart was pounding. For who knew what would happen along such a trail? He pushed from his mind the old stories of fearsome Beings who lived there. As he moved along, he seemed to have left even time behind him. For his world was a world of summer. He had gone a long, long way when he came upon the mouse. A white mouse! It had cranberries in its mouth. And it was vainly trying to get over a huge tree that had fallen across its pathway. With instant compassion for the small creature, he picked it up and lifted it over the fallen tree. He watched it scurry off into the a stand of large ferns. Then he heard a voice, a squeaky little voice. “Come in and speak to the Chief-woman!” it commanded. Startled by the words, the young man lifted a leaning fern. And there, to his amazement, was a house. A huge, underground house. “Come in!” It was a sharp command in the same squeaky voice. He went in. And there was the tiniest of old women, cooking cranberries in a hot-stone box. She was watching him with big, busy, mouse eyes. “You are a worth man,” she said to him in the same voice. “And since you have helped me, I will help you. Though it is not a proper marriage,” she added tartly. “It is a marriage, Grandmother.” He protested. “It is a marriage,” she conceded. “And I owe you assistance.” For of course, this was Mouse Woman. And of course she knew the obligation of a gift. If help had been given, the helper must be compensated. She marched off to a corner of her house and began to open a nest of five carved chests. From the innermost chest, she took out a tiny mouseskin. “I wore this for hunting when I was young,” she told him, with just a little sigh for her long gone days of hunting. She held it out for him. “Wear it!” she commanded. “Wear...that?” The young man looked at the tiny mouseskin. He looked at his own big body. “Wear it!” she repeated. To humour her, he took it. And to his utter amazement, he could enter it the way the reflection of a giant tree can enter a tiny puddle. He could move around in it, as if he were a mouse.
“Practice wearing it!” she commanded. And she pointed toward the outdoors. The young man, now seeming to be a mouse, scampered around logs and mosses for a brief time. Then went back into the house. “Now,” the tiny old woman said, “as soon as you have eaten, be on your way! Though it is not a proper marriage.” “It is a marriage, Grandmother,” he answered. Removing the garment, he ate and went on his way.
This time he met only one creature – a strange little man with one leg, one arm and half a head. “Master Hopper!” he gasped, watching the halfman bop boisterously around the base of a red pole that seemed to reach up and up forever, beyond the highest treetops. He had heard about Master Hopper, but he had not believed in him. Then his gaze fastened to the pole. He had heard stories about that, too, and had scarcely believed them. This was the red pole that reached up to Skyland. Where Goose Princess was.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he entered his magical mouseskin and scampered up the red pole. He climbed up and up and up beyond the treetops, up and up and up beyond the eagles, up and up and up beyond the clouds, up and up and up until he reached the door into Skyland. It was an alarming door. It opened and shut again as fast as the blink of an eye. He watched it for a long time. And only when he had caught the rhythm of its opening did he ready himself to leap through. As a mouse, he leaped through. Then, as a man, he looked about him. Skyland was dazzling. Houses as blue as the sky and as white as the clouds were decorated with tiny stars. Before the biggest house he saw the Goose pole. Then he saw Goose Princess running toward him. She was embracing him. She was taking him into the house of her father who was Town Chief. “You will be happy here,” she told him. And for some time, he was happy. Then he began to long for the great sea where he had gone seahunting. He began to long for the smell of the cedars, the screams of the seagulls, the sound of the rain on the roof. He began to long for his family.
“My son-in-law is not happy here,” the Town Chief told his daughter. She nodded in sad agreement. “He is not happy here” As she had not been happy living among humans. “I will send him back to his own kind,” the Town Chief told her. And again she nodded in sad agreement. She understood his yearning for his own kind. The Town Chief summoned Eagle, and Rave and Heron and Seagull to consult about the manner of the young man’s return to earth. And it was agreed that they would carry him back while he was sleeping.
So it was that the young man woke up next morning in his own house in his own village. “Did I dream it all? He asked himself, glancing about at the familiar walls and smokehole. He then saw the mouse skin. But as he reached, it vanished. He blinked his eyes to clear them. But the mouseskin had truly vanished. And he thought he heard a small, sharp-voiced mutter, “It was not a proper marriage”.
Indeed, it was not a proper marriage. But, as long as he lived, the Goose Princess’s husband watched the high passing of the geese with a great yearning. He went often to lonely waters. But he never again found a goose maiden swimming.
My Introduction to Mouse Woman
As I have mentioned before, I have had glimpses of Haida culture throughout my life but many times they went unnoticed. One of the greatest examples of this would be a story I loved as a child. My parents had a subscription to Reader's Digest and, along with the numerous magazines that would test my "word power" or provide jokes I could use later to impress someone, they would also get books! One of these books just happened to be for me; The Canadian Children's Treasury. All of these stories ended up being ones I still read today but the first section, titled The First People, had several which really stuck with me. I used How The Human People Got The First Fire by George Clutesi for an English project in high school and always remember The Loon's Necklace by William Toye when I would hear a haunting song at Dollar Lake. But one story has stayed with me more than the rest. The Princess and the Geese by Christie Harris.
I wouldn't call it a happy story necessairly but the concept of good vs. bad is something that does not show up in any aboriginal story, really. It's more of the concept that everything has the ability to be good OR bad and it comes down to choice. One of the star characters of this story is Mouse Woman. Now, if someone asked me if she was good or bad, I'd say she was definitely a "good" character but she's known for being mischievous. Normally, this is her way of being the protagonist and helping those who meet her to become better people and find the answer to their problems. She, like Raven, enjoy playing tricks but harm only comes if someone crosses her. An example of this comes to mind but I cannot remember the story exactly. It's in another book by Christie Harris and has to do with a Porcupine clan...if I find it again, I will let you know! Mouse Woman is definitely one of my favourite characters and the first time I met Willie's grandmother, Nuni Pat, I was (and still am) convinced she is Mouse Woman, haha.
I will post a copy of the The Princess and the Geese next so you all can enjoy it! Funny enough, the story reminds me of Willie and I, but we're trying to alter our "ending" so it's better than this one. So far, so good...we've made a baby goose! Hahaha.
Enjoy!
I wouldn't call it a happy story necessairly but the concept of good vs. bad is something that does not show up in any aboriginal story, really. It's more of the concept that everything has the ability to be good OR bad and it comes down to choice. One of the star characters of this story is Mouse Woman. Now, if someone asked me if she was good or bad, I'd say she was definitely a "good" character but she's known for being mischievous. Normally, this is her way of being the protagonist and helping those who meet her to become better people and find the answer to their problems. She, like Raven, enjoy playing tricks but harm only comes if someone crosses her. An example of this comes to mind but I cannot remember the story exactly. It's in another book by Christie Harris and has to do with a Porcupine clan...if I find it again, I will let you know! Mouse Woman is definitely one of my favourite characters and the first time I met Willie's grandmother, Nuni Pat, I was (and still am) convinced she is Mouse Woman, haha.
 |
| http://citizenshift.org/blogs/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/mouse-woman.jpg (from the cover of Mouse Woman and the Mischief Makers by Christie Harris) |
Enjoy!
Monday, August 23, 2010
Happy "3rd" Anniversary to the Haida Heritage Center
This post is a day late...but I"ll write it anyway!! I'm quite sad we weren't able to make it to the 3nd annual "Haida Fun Day" (that's what I call it anyway) yesterday in Skidegate, BC.
It's actually the third anniversary of the Grand Opening Ceremony to mark the official opening of the Heritage Centre. Some people know it as the Kaay Centre. This is because the piece of land it sits on is known as Kaay Llnagaay, or Sea Lion Town. There are several "houses" that make up the center: the Greeting house, Trading house, Exhibits Gallery, Eating house (with EXCELLENT food, by the way), the Performance house, the Bill Reid teaching centre and Canoe house, and the Carving Shed (you may be lucky enough to witness some pole/canoe carving in this area!)
You can find more information about all of these places, and events going on throughout the year by visiting their website, http://www.haidaheritagecentre.com/.
Anyway, as I was saying, I'm sad we didn't make the celebrations this year because we had a BLAST! It started out at Jag's Beanstalk (for those of you who don't know, it's quite the happenin' coffee house with an amazing view of the ocean). Everyone was decked out in their finest and representing their clans. Button blankets, woven headbands and face-paint was everywhere. The sounds of the drums grew louder as the crowd gathered. Someone started singing and before long, everyone was in full song. Elders and children marched hand-in-hand down the stretch of highway that leads from the coffee shop to the Heritage centre. I ran ahead at one point to capture some on video and snap a few pictures (if I knew what happened to them, I'd post them...but alas, I do not!)
The speeches were given, the elders were acknowledged, the prayers were said...and then the fun began! The canoe races (in which Willie was a part of) were my favourite part. I had always heard about how great the Haida canoes were, and sure, they look good as decoration, but I hadn't had the opportunity to see them in action....
Wow!
I honestly didn't think a piece of wood "driven" by 20+ people could go that fast! I mean, yes, it would go faster than me paddling a canoe myself, or even a paddle boat (I'm quite fast in one of those...all my power is in my legs! haha) but wow. And it wasn't just the speed that took my breath away, but the sound of the paddles banging on the side. It sounded like the biggest drum I had ever heard. Steady. Keeping speed. Then the singing...drifting to shore with the waves...it was soft to my ears but loud in my heart. Definitely a highlight for me. The sight of my man powering his way around in the canoe....well...it was a very good image and I keep it tucked away in the back of my mind when I need a bit of a smile.
There were fun games (none of which I played...but I was a damn good spectator!!) and LOTS of food (here's where I'll give some important advice...where there's fried bread involved...get there early or NO FOOD FOR YOU!) In the evening we watched some dance competitions and witnessed an epic dance-off in the men's dance. It went on for 30 minutes or more and still, it was basically a tie! Impressive (especially because it was a "how low can you go" danceoff!). I think if Willie had tried to go on for 3rd place (he came in 4th) his pants would have ripped!
The biggest highlight of the night was when I felt Noora move for the first time....she was dancing to the drums! It hadn't hit me until then that I was really REALLY pregnant and I was going to have a baby!! It was such a great way to end the evening!! My little Haida princess knew her place!
It's actually the third anniversary of the Grand Opening Ceremony to mark the official opening of the Heritage Centre. Some people know it as the Kaay Centre. This is because the piece of land it sits on is known as Kaay Llnagaay, or Sea Lion Town. There are several "houses" that make up the center: the Greeting house, Trading house, Exhibits Gallery, Eating house (with EXCELLENT food, by the way), the Performance house, the Bill Reid teaching centre and Canoe house, and the Carving Shed (you may be lucky enough to witness some pole/canoe carving in this area!)
You can find more information about all of these places, and events going on throughout the year by visiting their website, http://www.haidaheritagecentre.com/.
Anyway, as I was saying, I'm sad we didn't make the celebrations this year because we had a BLAST! It started out at Jag's Beanstalk (for those of you who don't know, it's quite the happenin' coffee house with an amazing view of the ocean). Everyone was decked out in their finest and representing their clans. Button blankets, woven headbands and face-paint was everywhere. The sounds of the drums grew louder as the crowd gathered. Someone started singing and before long, everyone was in full song. Elders and children marched hand-in-hand down the stretch of highway that leads from the coffee shop to the Heritage centre. I ran ahead at one point to capture some on video and snap a few pictures (if I knew what happened to them, I'd post them...but alas, I do not!)
The speeches were given, the elders were acknowledged, the prayers were said...and then the fun began! The canoe races (in which Willie was a part of) were my favourite part. I had always heard about how great the Haida canoes were, and sure, they look good as decoration, but I hadn't had the opportunity to see them in action....
 |
| http://www.civilization.ca/cmc/exhibitions/aborig/reid/images/re10_03b.jpg |
Wow!
I honestly didn't think a piece of wood "driven" by 20+ people could go that fast! I mean, yes, it would go faster than me paddling a canoe myself, or even a paddle boat (I'm quite fast in one of those...all my power is in my legs! haha) but wow. And it wasn't just the speed that took my breath away, but the sound of the paddles banging on the side. It sounded like the biggest drum I had ever heard. Steady. Keeping speed. Then the singing...drifting to shore with the waves...it was soft to my ears but loud in my heart. Definitely a highlight for me. The sight of my man powering his way around in the canoe....well...it was a very good image and I keep it tucked away in the back of my mind when I need a bit of a smile.
There were fun games (none of which I played...but I was a damn good spectator!!) and LOTS of food (here's where I'll give some important advice...where there's fried bread involved...get there early or NO FOOD FOR YOU!) In the evening we watched some dance competitions and witnessed an epic dance-off in the men's dance. It went on for 30 minutes or more and still, it was basically a tie! Impressive (especially because it was a "how low can you go" danceoff!). I think if Willie had tried to go on for 3rd place (he came in 4th) his pants would have ripped!
The biggest highlight of the night was when I felt Noora move for the first time....she was dancing to the drums! It hadn't hit me until then that I was really REALLY pregnant and I was going to have a baby!! It was such a great way to end the evening!! My little Haida princess knew her place!
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Haida Who?
Quick!! What's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word, HAIDA?
.
..
...
....
.....
Time's UP! Ok...let me guess...you drew a blank? If your answer is "Karyn's Blog"...I suppose it counts, but it's not the correct answer! Haha. Good try.
Well, you're not the only one! I think Haida Gwaii stands for "island of the hidden people" because, really, who's heard of them?! When you rhyme off a list of Aboriginal groups, I bet they don't make the list. I know, personally, my list would have gone like this: Mi'kmaq, Ojibway, Dene, Inuit, Cree, Blackfoot, Crow, Sioux, Apache, etc. I knew about the Haida peoples solely because of Free Willy ( I had a MAJOR crush on Randolph) and the art we studied for a day in Art 12. So, naturally, it's not the first to come to mind. You don't normally hear about Haidas on the news or, unless you're watching APTN and still it would be a rare occurance, see them on television! OR you may see people who seem to be Haida but in fact may be Nisga'a or T'lingit or T'simshian because they may look alike but they're very VERY different! I bet most people wouldn't even know there's a great example of the beautiful Haida artwork on the back of a $20 bill! There's a conversation starter for you! Haha. My point is...they're hidden! Secret. Mysterious. Powerful.
So, here's a nice little list of things to fill that blank for future reference!
1.Anthropologists have studied pre-contact Haida remains and came to the conclusion the average male stature was around 6'6". Could this perhaps be where the Sasquatch stories started? Hmmm....Personally, I've met more average stature Haidas but this could very well be a result of inter-tribal relations ;) But there are some really tall ones out there! (information from my fiance's anthropology professor...I haven't read any studies myself...but this just gives me more to look for!)
2. The Haida are very closely related to the Apache. Very peculiar...a desert tribe and a water tribe...this data was found accidentally thanks to the Genome project in the 1970s! Makes sense though...both are very successful warriors!
3. The Haida people knew how to use cannons/gunpowder before European contact (information from the Haida Heritage Centre). How, you may ask? Some theories point to trading or perhaps they took them from sunken ships off the coast!
4. The Haida canoes were built as sea-faring vessels to travel long trade routes to Japan and New Zealand. After the smallpox plague, information on how to build these mighty ships was lost until Bill Reid re-discovered the process of making the canoes by using artifacts in museums and practicing using small blocks of cedar wood. He also discovered that ammonia was the key to stretching the canoes and they used child's urine to do so in the past due to the high ammonia content. (information from the Haida Heritage Centre).
5. Education is important to the Haida! Chief Niis Wes and some other elders were the oldest people to finish their grade 12 education in their late 90s. Who ever said you can't teach an old dog new tricks obviously never met these guys! Wow!
6. This tidbit of information is close to my heart! Our daughter, Noora, is the first Haida to be born in Nova Scotia...this was confirmed by a man named Big Bear from Indianbrook, NS. We'll trust his word, haha. She deserves a certificate! :)
7. The most famous Haida canoe was featured on a Coke commercial which aired during the February 2010 Olympics in Vancouver, BC. The Loo Taas is Bill Reid's baby, the first in 100 years to sail the West Coast, from Vancouver area to Haida Gwaii. There is also a children's book out now called The Canoe He Called Loo Taas by Amanda Reid-Stevens and illustrated by Michael Nicoll Yahgulanaas. Check it out!
8. There were approximately 40,000 people populating the island of Haida Gwaii before European contact and smallpox and not the 10,000 that is usually seen in the history books. The "hidden" 30,000 men, women and children go unaccounted for in hopes that this "tragedy" will be overlooked. I don't think so!
9. The smallpox virus which hit Haida Gwaii happened in three waves. Biochemical warfare was utilized....a genius plan, really. The Europeans gave the Haida blankets which had been infected with the virus (from deceased individuals, I'm guessing) and therefore, passed it onto unsuspecting victims. And to think of all the fuss made over the H1N1 virus...if only we knew then what we know now. Check out the March 2009 edition of Haida Laas for more information (found on www.haidanation.ca/Pages/Haida_Laas/PDF/Journals/Smallpox_Journal.72.pdf)
10. It is theorized that the Haida canoes spawned the design of modern Naval ships and other seacraft because they were so fast, durable and smooth on the water! Who knew!
Well, folks, there's a list of ten things you can add to your brain. I'm sure I'll have more little-known-facts to come as I further research and talk to people! I know I can't wait to learn more and it's always fun to say "Hey, did you know...?"
Goodnight!
.
..
...
....
.....
Time's UP! Ok...let me guess...you drew a blank? If your answer is "Karyn's Blog"...I suppose it counts, but it's not the correct answer! Haha. Good try.
 |
| This is the Haida Nation Flag...beautiful, huh? |
Well, you're not the only one! I think Haida Gwaii stands for "island of the hidden people" because, really, who's heard of them?! When you rhyme off a list of Aboriginal groups, I bet they don't make the list. I know, personally, my list would have gone like this: Mi'kmaq, Ojibway, Dene, Inuit, Cree, Blackfoot, Crow, Sioux, Apache, etc. I knew about the Haida peoples solely because of Free Willy ( I had a MAJOR crush on Randolph) and the art we studied for a day in Art 12. So, naturally, it's not the first to come to mind. You don't normally hear about Haidas on the news or, unless you're watching APTN and still it would be a rare occurance, see them on television! OR you may see people who seem to be Haida but in fact may be Nisga'a or T'lingit or T'simshian because they may look alike but they're very VERY different! I bet most people wouldn't even know there's a great example of the beautiful Haida artwork on the back of a $20 bill! There's a conversation starter for you! Haha. My point is...they're hidden! Secret. Mysterious. Powerful.
So, here's a nice little list of things to fill that blank for future reference!
1.Anthropologists have studied pre-contact Haida remains and came to the conclusion the average male stature was around 6'6". Could this perhaps be where the Sasquatch stories started? Hmmm....Personally, I've met more average stature Haidas but this could very well be a result of inter-tribal relations ;) But there are some really tall ones out there! (information from my fiance's anthropology professor...I haven't read any studies myself...but this just gives me more to look for!)
2. The Haida are very closely related to the Apache. Very peculiar...a desert tribe and a water tribe...this data was found accidentally thanks to the Genome project in the 1970s! Makes sense though...both are very successful warriors!
3. The Haida people knew how to use cannons/gunpowder before European contact (information from the Haida Heritage Centre). How, you may ask? Some theories point to trading or perhaps they took them from sunken ships off the coast!
4. The Haida canoes were built as sea-faring vessels to travel long trade routes to Japan and New Zealand. After the smallpox plague, information on how to build these mighty ships was lost until Bill Reid re-discovered the process of making the canoes by using artifacts in museums and practicing using small blocks of cedar wood. He also discovered that ammonia was the key to stretching the canoes and they used child's urine to do so in the past due to the high ammonia content. (information from the Haida Heritage Centre).
5. Education is important to the Haida! Chief Niis Wes and some other elders were the oldest people to finish their grade 12 education in their late 90s. Who ever said you can't teach an old dog new tricks obviously never met these guys! Wow!
6. This tidbit of information is close to my heart! Our daughter, Noora, is the first Haida to be born in Nova Scotia...this was confirmed by a man named Big Bear from Indianbrook, NS. We'll trust his word, haha. She deserves a certificate! :)
7. The most famous Haida canoe was featured on a Coke commercial which aired during the February 2010 Olympics in Vancouver, BC. The Loo Taas is Bill Reid's baby, the first in 100 years to sail the West Coast, from Vancouver area to Haida Gwaii. There is also a children's book out now called The Canoe He Called Loo Taas by Amanda Reid-Stevens and illustrated by Michael Nicoll Yahgulanaas. Check it out!
8. There were approximately 40,000 people populating the island of Haida Gwaii before European contact and smallpox and not the 10,000 that is usually seen in the history books. The "hidden" 30,000 men, women and children go unaccounted for in hopes that this "tragedy" will be overlooked. I don't think so!
9. The smallpox virus which hit Haida Gwaii happened in three waves. Biochemical warfare was utilized....a genius plan, really. The Europeans gave the Haida blankets which had been infected with the virus (from deceased individuals, I'm guessing) and therefore, passed it onto unsuspecting victims. And to think of all the fuss made over the H1N1 virus...if only we knew then what we know now. Check out the March 2009 edition of Haida Laas for more information (found on www.haidanation.ca/Pages/Haida_Laas/PDF/Journals/Smallpox_Journal.72.pdf)
10. It is theorized that the Haida canoes spawned the design of modern Naval ships and other seacraft because they were so fast, durable and smooth on the water! Who knew!
Well, folks, there's a list of ten things you can add to your brain. I'm sure I'll have more little-known-facts to come as I further research and talk to people! I know I can't wait to learn more and it's always fun to say "Hey, did you know...?"
Goodnight!
Friday, August 20, 2010
White Raven
I have been thinking about starting a blog for a few weeks but never could think of what to call it or what I would write about. Should it be a personal blog, should it be about my children's series, Noora's Adventures, or should I develop a specific project to blog about? I guess you could say I've combined all three!
So, the what and why had been decided...now to decide the who. I mean, it's MY blog but I needed a title. Something that meant alot to me. Ha....here's where I hit the road block. I have had so many nicknames in the past! After some thinking, I remembered a photo I saw at the Trout House in Masset, BC. It was of a white raven. I was so intrigued by this creature because I had no idea something like him existed! The raven had been a resident of the island but unfortunately got himself electrocuted a few years ago. He still remains in Port Clements, stuffed.
This got me thinking though...Willie, my fiance, has always said if I were Haida I would be a Raven because I was so cheeky! I've kinda adopted that notion and I know in my heart it's true. He's an Eagle so we balance each other very well...even if I do happen to tease him constantly. It's not his fault he's an Eagle, afterall! Now, I'm not Haida but that made the idea of the White Raven appeal to me even more; white and unique, just like me! The White Raven is seen in Celtic mythology, as well as Haida mythology, as a symbol of healing, survival, and sacrifice. I believe I embody these traits as well.
The White Raven Returns is my way of expressing the nature of this blog: coming home to Haida Gwaii and all that will entail, from learning about the Haida culture, language and history to the challenges of everyday life.
For more information on the White Ravens of British Columbia, here are a few websites!
www.digitaljournal.com/article/294246
www.vancouverislandbirds.com/Journal255.html
So, the what and why had been decided...now to decide the who. I mean, it's MY blog but I needed a title. Something that meant alot to me. Ha....here's where I hit the road block. I have had so many nicknames in the past! After some thinking, I remembered a photo I saw at the Trout House in Masset, BC. It was of a white raven. I was so intrigued by this creature because I had no idea something like him existed! The raven had been a resident of the island but unfortunately got himself electrocuted a few years ago. He still remains in Port Clements, stuffed.
This got me thinking though...Willie, my fiance, has always said if I were Haida I would be a Raven because I was so cheeky! I've kinda adopted that notion and I know in my heart it's true. He's an Eagle so we balance each other very well...even if I do happen to tease him constantly. It's not his fault he's an Eagle, afterall! Now, I'm not Haida but that made the idea of the White Raven appeal to me even more; white and unique, just like me! The White Raven is seen in Celtic mythology, as well as Haida mythology, as a symbol of healing, survival, and sacrifice. I believe I embody these traits as well.
 |
| Photo courtesy of www.vancouverislandbirds.com/Journal255.html (2008) |
For more information on the White Ravens of British Columbia, here are a few websites!
www.digitaljournal.com/article/294246
www.vancouverislandbirds.com/Journal255.html
A Bit About Me!
Happy Friday everyone!
This is the first entry of my new blog, White Raven Returns, so I decided to introduce myself and my "project".
Hmm...let's start from the top. It's January 2009 and I'm so SICK of men that I decide to swear off dating until I find someone who's actually worth spending time and love on. It's a big change for me and, quite frankly, a bit scary! Being alone until whoknowswhen.....*shudders*.
I was in Halifax at the time, visiting one of my best friends at Saint Mary's University. We were up one night relaxing, chatting, and watching television. During a commercial break, an ad for EHarmony came on...you know, the one with the couples who are SO cute they make you feel sick to your stomach? Yup...those ones! So my friend suggests that we go onto the website and fill out the questionnaire for fun. She was dating someone at the time and I had sworn off men, so I figured, hmmm why not? I took my time and was brutally honest...and I mean brutal! For example, out of all the guys I had dated only one was blonde and blue eyed (not a bad guy, just wasn't my type) so I excluded them from my search. Same went for "bald", "under 25", "caucasians" (again...nothing personal, again, just not my type), "smokers" and "drinkers" (well, occasional was fine).
Then came the hard questions about what I was like and what I wanted in a partner. What happened to the fun??? It took quite a while to finish the survery but it had my attention and I was determined to finish. Then came the big moment....they were about to show me all the men in North America (because I had been too picky on where Prince Charming lived) who matched my request.
....
Five profiles appeared. Yup.....five. Out of the entire male population, on EHarmony, in North America. Seriously??? Was I that picky? *sigh* Well....I was disappointed because my friend received numerous pages of matches...lucky thing! What to do now...it was all "just for fun", right? I took a peek at the first profile and I was actually really interested to find out more....same with the second...and the third...hmmm, maybe there's something to this afterall, I thought!
SETBACK! You had to pay in order to see the photos and to communicate with the matches. UGH...now what? I did something that was so uncharacteristic of me; I still do not understand it to this day. I pulled out my almost-maxed-out credit card and paid for a one-month subscription. SUCCESS!!!!
I went back to the profile of the first match and it was love at first glance. He was HANDSOME, had a beautiful smile, crazy curly hair, and a very warm glow. All of his pictures showed the same thing. I was shocked! On paper, and now in picture, this man was perfect! How do they do that? I guess I hadn't been too picky, afterall!
So the communication started, and in a few days we were exchanging emails. February 2, 2009 we had our first MSN session, which lasted all afternoon and resulted in our first phonecall that evening. We talked for hours! Everyday! Never ran out of things to talk about. This was real, I thought. I was terrified that the one thing I wanted, I had found. I made the decision to pick up everything and move to Haida Gwaii, BC, where he lived. On March 31 I arrived at the airport, dropped my baggage, and ran into his arms.
May 3-he proposed...and I accepted.
June 4-I received a call from the doctor saying I was pregnant (shocking, because I had been told I could not have kids when I was 16....).
Fast-forward to today.....August 2010.We're still together, after MANY life-changing events, fights, make-ups, and love. We have a beautiful six month old daughter. We have been living in Nova Scotia for the past nine months. And we are now heading back to Haida Gwaii so she can meet her other family.
A simple just-for-fun activity has led to the most emotional experiences of my life and I wouldn't change a thing.
The purpose of my blog is to record the everyday occurances of our brand new family, the challenges of living in a remote area, and the excitement of the unknown. My fiance is Haida and I am not, haha. Our daughter is half. SO.....it's important to us that she knows her culture! I intend to learn as much as I can, for myself and so I can pass it on to her.
And that is our story.
This is the first entry of my new blog, White Raven Returns, so I decided to introduce myself and my "project".
Hmm...let's start from the top. It's January 2009 and I'm so SICK of men that I decide to swear off dating until I find someone who's actually worth spending time and love on. It's a big change for me and, quite frankly, a bit scary! Being alone until whoknowswhen.....*shudders*.
I was in Halifax at the time, visiting one of my best friends at Saint Mary's University. We were up one night relaxing, chatting, and watching television. During a commercial break, an ad for EHarmony came on...you know, the one with the couples who are SO cute they make you feel sick to your stomach? Yup...those ones! So my friend suggests that we go onto the website and fill out the questionnaire for fun. She was dating someone at the time and I had sworn off men, so I figured, hmmm why not? I took my time and was brutally honest...and I mean brutal! For example, out of all the guys I had dated only one was blonde and blue eyed (not a bad guy, just wasn't my type) so I excluded them from my search. Same went for "bald", "under 25", "caucasians" (again...nothing personal, again, just not my type), "smokers" and "drinkers" (well, occasional was fine).
Then came the hard questions about what I was like and what I wanted in a partner. What happened to the fun??? It took quite a while to finish the survery but it had my attention and I was determined to finish. Then came the big moment....they were about to show me all the men in North America (because I had been too picky on where Prince Charming lived) who matched my request.
....
Five profiles appeared. Yup.....five. Out of the entire male population, on EHarmony, in North America. Seriously??? Was I that picky? *sigh* Well....I was disappointed because my friend received numerous pages of matches...lucky thing! What to do now...it was all "just for fun", right? I took a peek at the first profile and I was actually really interested to find out more....same with the second...and the third...hmmm, maybe there's something to this afterall, I thought!
SETBACK! You had to pay in order to see the photos and to communicate with the matches. UGH...now what? I did something that was so uncharacteristic of me; I still do not understand it to this day. I pulled out my almost-maxed-out credit card and paid for a one-month subscription. SUCCESS!!!!
I went back to the profile of the first match and it was love at first glance. He was HANDSOME, had a beautiful smile, crazy curly hair, and a very warm glow. All of his pictures showed the same thing. I was shocked! On paper, and now in picture, this man was perfect! How do they do that? I guess I hadn't been too picky, afterall!
So the communication started, and in a few days we were exchanging emails. February 2, 2009 we had our first MSN session, which lasted all afternoon and resulted in our first phonecall that evening. We talked for hours! Everyday! Never ran out of things to talk about. This was real, I thought. I was terrified that the one thing I wanted, I had found. I made the decision to pick up everything and move to Haida Gwaii, BC, where he lived. On March 31 I arrived at the airport, dropped my baggage, and ran into his arms.
May 3-he proposed...and I accepted.
June 4-I received a call from the doctor saying I was pregnant (shocking, because I had been told I could not have kids when I was 16....).
Fast-forward to today.....August 2010.We're still together, after MANY life-changing events, fights, make-ups, and love. We have a beautiful six month old daughter. We have been living in Nova Scotia for the past nine months. And we are now heading back to Haida Gwaii so she can meet her other family.
A simple just-for-fun activity has led to the most emotional experiences of my life and I wouldn't change a thing.
The purpose of my blog is to record the everyday occurances of our brand new family, the challenges of living in a remote area, and the excitement of the unknown. My fiance is Haida and I am not, haha. Our daughter is half. SO.....it's important to us that she knows her culture! I intend to learn as much as I can, for myself and so I can pass it on to her.
And that is our story.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)