This note is for Jerry and Ken. I have met a man who you would both envy. He’s a semi retired marine engineer. He and his mother have driven down here from England in a big motor home and are living down in the harbour. That is where he keeps his 50 foot retired British Navy boat. He has it out of the water right now and is working on it.
He bumped into me in Modela (supermarket chain). He said sorry. I said no problem and we went on our separate paths. I could tell he wasn’t a local by his clothes. He was wearing royal blue short, an old sweater, white mid-calf sport socks, and beat up runners. No ,one from here would be wearing something that unfashionable.
We met up again in the checkout lineup. That is when it occurred to him that I had answered him in English and that my English did not have a Portuguese accent. Well hello, he said. Where are you from?
I gave him my brief outline. I am here from Canada. Renting a place from a friend in Vancouver. Blah blah blah.
Well have a good day. Hopefully we will run into each other again. He replies as he loads his groceries into bags and heads out to the parking lot.
This was the longest sustained English conversation I have had for a while so I nod and say bye.
I gathered up my groceries and headed out the parking lot to untie the Koot and start to lug our groceries back to the house.
You didn’t bring her from Canada as well did you? I stood up and looked around. There was my English man loading his groceries into a basket on his moped.
I sure did. And I have done it more than once now. I replied and made my way over to his bike. I could tell he wanted to ask me about Kootenay. She is the starter for so many conversations. And this one i will understand.
He plied me with a list of questions… How did she fly? She didn’t fly she’s a dog. Ha Ha. She sat in a crate in a plane that carried us here. Were there problems at the borders? No, despite having done a pile of research, and having the dog micro chipped, inoculated, inspected by the Official Canadian Vet, and all the paperwork to prove these steps have occurred not one person has looked at any of her paperwork. We have flown into Germany twice, Portugal twice and once back to Canada. It is amazing when you think about how we and our luggage are x-rayed, swabbed and wanded down so much that I worry about wearing an underwire bra on flights that no one seems worried about a giant fluffy dog and her enormous crate.
Then he moves onto the fun questions. What kind of dog is that? I have never seen one quite like her. She’s part poodle and part golden retriever I reply.
I have been thinking about getting a dog, he tells me. I was thinking about border collie, but I am worried about it on the boat. Before I get a chance to reply he fills me in on his life. He and his mom are down here. He keeps his boat here and then heads out all over from here. He has been to the Azores. Liked it. Sailed down to the Algarve where is sister lives. Hated it. Too many British he says, and the people in Nazare are nicer. The list goes on… Greece, Turkey, France etc. He wants to head over to Canada and the east coast of the US, but that depends on Mum. I am not sure what he means by that. Is he waiting for her to be well enough or….
His boat is a 50 footer. He bought it from the Royal Navy when it was decommissioned. Now he is researching the history of its’ war years. He keeps his moped on it so that he can explore whatever port he finds himself in. He is semi-retired so he spends six or seven months a year doing this and then heads home for the summer. Sound like a life you could live?
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
They may be ugly, but...
Crocs are comfortable. They may be ugly, but they are comfy. I keep hoping they will hurt my feet. If they did I would be able to stop wearing them. I could put them on in the house like slippers and be sure that they didn’t make their way out to streets. But, instead I find myself two blocks from home, and the look on people’s faces tells me that I have bright green, comfy, foam shoes on. In Nazare these shoes stand out. People and, in particular, women dress up. There seems to be no such thing as casual Friday. Even when they are “dressing down” they are fancy folks. My always-practical Birkenstocks and comfy Crocs scream visitor/tourist.
Someone who had travelled to Nazare asked me if I had noticed the unusual number of people on crutches in town. I had noticed it, but had not really given it much thought. Now I have a few theories. First the fancy shoes and cobblestones really don’t mix. If you take high heels, smooth soles and mix in cobblestones it is a recipe for hurt. If you add moisture, navigation becomes a delicate ballet where only the seasoned survive. You are more likely to lose your dignity than maintain it. My rule on rainy days is to wear pants. If you wear a skirt make sure your underwear are clean, because you are likely to be showing them off.
Here people walking the seawall on a Sunday afternoon would look over dressed on Robson Street in Vancouver. Men are wearing dress pants with collared shirts, and if they do dress down with jeans and runner, they have tucked in cotton shirts and gold and silver lame runners. I have not seen a pair of Chucks and 501s anywhere. The women amaze me. They stroll the cobblestone walkways in delicate heels, pointy-toed high heel boots, wearing bedazzled and faux furred jackets and pants. No one seems concerned with comfort. I seem to be the only person who owns Lycra. Unlike in Vancouver, I am the only person wearing Lululemon clothing here. And I am also the only woman wearing comfortable shoes.
The cleaning lady just asked me to move my chair so she could sweep around me. I could tell she was coming up behind me by the clacking of her heeled mules on the stone floor.
Someone who had travelled to Nazare asked me if I had noticed the unusual number of people on crutches in town. I had noticed it, but had not really given it much thought. Now I have a few theories. First the fancy shoes and cobblestones really don’t mix. If you take high heels, smooth soles and mix in cobblestones it is a recipe for hurt. If you add moisture, navigation becomes a delicate ballet where only the seasoned survive. You are more likely to lose your dignity than maintain it. My rule on rainy days is to wear pants. If you wear a skirt make sure your underwear are clean, because you are likely to be showing them off.
Here people walking the seawall on a Sunday afternoon would look over dressed on Robson Street in Vancouver. Men are wearing dress pants with collared shirts, and if they do dress down with jeans and runner, they have tucked in cotton shirts and gold and silver lame runners. I have not seen a pair of Chucks and 501s anywhere. The women amaze me. They stroll the cobblestone walkways in delicate heels, pointy-toed high heel boots, wearing bedazzled and faux furred jackets and pants. No one seems concerned with comfort. I seem to be the only person who owns Lycra. Unlike in Vancouver, I am the only person wearing Lululemon clothing here. And I am also the only woman wearing comfortable shoes.
The cleaning lady just asked me to move my chair so she could sweep around me. I could tell she was coming up behind me by the clacking of her heeled mules on the stone floor.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Dalmatian Dad
Your dog is very self-sufficient he said to me today. He has a beautiful Dalmatian that dearly wants to play with Kootenay. I was totally shocked. He spoke to me in perfect English. There was a pause in our conversation while my mind processed the fact that I understood him. Usually I smile nod my head and say fala English while pointing at my self.
She just really loves her ball I end up stuttering out in rely.
No. Even when you don’t have the ball she is just as happy following you down the beach with her nose to the sand. My dog is desperate for another dog to play with him. It is the only time he gets any real exercise. Replies the man who will from now forward be known as Dalmatian Dad.
She is easy to exercise. I reply. Just throw a ball and wait. She brings it back and demands that you do it again. The only drawback is the slobber stains on my shoes. I can’t figure out why I can’t come with something else to say. I seem to have lost any ability to engage in small talk. Have I been out of normal life for too long? I have really enjoyed my days of walking on the beach, reading and even fitting in a little writing. But, could this have all lead to me becoming, gasp, even more socially awkward. And, why is he walking away.
Bye I call out. What I really want to do is scream. She really only plays with dogs she knows. If Dalmatian wants to get to know her she will be happy to run in the waves with him. Then I wonder…. Is this really about K?
She just really loves her ball I end up stuttering out in rely.
No. Even when you don’t have the ball she is just as happy following you down the beach with her nose to the sand. My dog is desperate for another dog to play with him. It is the only time he gets any real exercise. Replies the man who will from now forward be known as Dalmatian Dad.
She is easy to exercise. I reply. Just throw a ball and wait. She brings it back and demands that you do it again. The only drawback is the slobber stains on my shoes. I can’t figure out why I can’t come with something else to say. I seem to have lost any ability to engage in small talk. Have I been out of normal life for too long? I have really enjoyed my days of walking on the beach, reading and even fitting in a little writing. But, could this have all lead to me becoming, gasp, even more socially awkward. And, why is he walking away.
Bye I call out. What I really want to do is scream. She really only plays with dogs she knows. If Dalmatian wants to get to know her she will be happy to run in the waves with him. Then I wonder…. Is this really about K?
Friday, January 25, 2008
Breaking Up is Hard to Do
I think my boyfriend and I broke up today. Guess I should tell you a little bit about him. Kootenay and I met him on the beach. We stand out in Nazare. People here don’t often play with their dogs. The dogs run around and then check back at their owners a few times during the day. Add the fact that I “play” with my dog and I walk around with her on leash and we stand out….
People along the seawall have become intrigued with my ball chucker.
He came up and tried to ask about it. He wanted to try it. So we stood there and “chatted”. What I mean by chatting is that we exchanged the few words I know in Portuguese and the few that he knew in English, and then we smiled and watched Kootenay run up and down the beach.
We ran into each other at the community center the next day. He started walking me home and then I would get K and we would all trek to the beach for some dog exercise time. It was nice.
But, tonight some young hussy came and took him away. He looked at me gave me a little smile and shrugged his shoulders as he left with her. I guess that is what happens when your boyfriend is 12 and he is more interested in your dog than you.
People along the seawall have become intrigued with my ball chucker.
He came up and tried to ask about it. He wanted to try it. So we stood there and “chatted”. What I mean by chatting is that we exchanged the few words I know in Portuguese and the few that he knew in English, and then we smiled and watched Kootenay run up and down the beach.
We ran into each other at the community center the next day. He started walking me home and then I would get K and we would all trek to the beach for some dog exercise time. It was nice.
But, tonight some young hussy came and took him away. He looked at me gave me a little smile and shrugged his shoulders as he left with her. I guess that is what happens when your boyfriend is 12 and he is more interested in your dog than you.
Have I Become James?
I am sitting at a small table in the Community Center / Library using there free internet. I have become a regular. It feels a little weird, because it reminds me of home. I have become the weird foreigner that comes in everyday to use the internet. We had a few at work back in Vancouver. And to top it off I don’t even speak the same language, so no one has a clue who I am or why I am here. So people here are free to make up my back-story. Hopefully it is more interesting than the truth. I am sitting here looking at People magazine on line and ichatting with my sister. But I can hear the waves hitting the shore and if I angle my computer just right I can see them as well.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Post Feminist World?
I miss my MVS, and Matt, and George… They could always be counted on to challenge me and help me hone my opinions. Matt, MVS and I worked together and spent many slow afternoons debating the state of the world. Seems crazy to miss those days when I am sitting with my dog in the sun’s warmth on a beach in a foreign country, but I do. There is no one here with enough English skills to talk to about my most recent rant.
I watched Blood Diamond and thought it was a good film. Then, because I hear so little English, and because it was a DVD and had a directors commentary on it, I watched the show again. The director impressed me at first. He talked about how filming and being in Africa deeply affected him, the crew and the stars.
Then as he was describing a scene that introduced the love interest for the main character he talked about her being a reporter in a post feminist world. He talked about female war reporters who dressed in dresses despite their surroundings and who had relationships with “inappropriate” men and used these as examples of this post feminist world. He seemed to find it odd that despite the circumstances the reporter didn’t want to lose her femininity. It was as if in his mind one must chose between feminism and femininity.
That is when I started to look at the movie a bit differently. At first it was just a buddy movie that turned conventions a little. I was happy that a movie would try to challenge the narrow view of life that Hollywood often brings us.
One point in this movie even moved outside the regular Hollywood path. The female character stepped outside the role of victim and managed to thwart a militia attack. But even this moment was cheapened when a soldier was required to say a line about her reminding him of his wife. In the director’s commentary you find out that she was originally supposed to cling to Leo the antihero, but came up with this idea instead.
The other thing that amazed me about this movie was the implied guilt meted out for women who have, or want a diamond ring. Again the lone female character is forced to defend all women while separating herself from them by declaring that “Not all women want a diamond ring” and “women wouldn’t want a diamond if the new it cost someone their arm”. It turns out that when men treat each other inhumanely, enslave each other to amass vast wealth, and rape and plunder nations it is because of outside pressures….
Okay, it was not that simple an analogy, but it feels that way today.
Where are you guys when I need to talk to you????
I watched Blood Diamond and thought it was a good film. Then, because I hear so little English, and because it was a DVD and had a directors commentary on it, I watched the show again. The director impressed me at first. He talked about how filming and being in Africa deeply affected him, the crew and the stars.
Then as he was describing a scene that introduced the love interest for the main character he talked about her being a reporter in a post feminist world. He talked about female war reporters who dressed in dresses despite their surroundings and who had relationships with “inappropriate” men and used these as examples of this post feminist world. He seemed to find it odd that despite the circumstances the reporter didn’t want to lose her femininity. It was as if in his mind one must chose between feminism and femininity.
That is when I started to look at the movie a bit differently. At first it was just a buddy movie that turned conventions a little. I was happy that a movie would try to challenge the narrow view of life that Hollywood often brings us.
One point in this movie even moved outside the regular Hollywood path. The female character stepped outside the role of victim and managed to thwart a militia attack. But even this moment was cheapened when a soldier was required to say a line about her reminding him of his wife. In the director’s commentary you find out that she was originally supposed to cling to Leo the antihero, but came up with this idea instead.
The other thing that amazed me about this movie was the implied guilt meted out for women who have, or want a diamond ring. Again the lone female character is forced to defend all women while separating herself from them by declaring that “Not all women want a diamond ring” and “women wouldn’t want a diamond if the new it cost someone their arm”. It turns out that when men treat each other inhumanely, enslave each other to amass vast wealth, and rape and plunder nations it is because of outside pressures….
Okay, it was not that simple an analogy, but it feels that way today.
Where are you guys when I need to talk to you????
Friday, January 18, 2008
Moving...
My dog changed my life. Before she came into my life I lived a nice, quiet, safe life. I had a good job. It was not my passion, but it paid a living wage and had health benefits. I bought a safe fixer up style of apartment in a nice neighbourhoood and fixed it up. I was average and glad of it. While my friends went about marrying, breaking up, and living overseas I was happy to offer them a bed when they needed it and live my quiet life.
Then came Kootenay. Soon after she came into my home the people in my building decided that she was too big to live in our building and offered me a choice. Either I had to get rid of her or move out of the building. This was a difficult time. I had made friends with many of the people in the building and then had to choose between this dog I had just adopted and the security and friendship of the people in the building I had been living in for four years. I chose the dog. It was my first moment of madness. I am not sure I would have been able to make that choice had my sister not been around. She, in her ever practical and capable way, made the choice of moving because of my new dog an easy one. “Of course you’ll move,” she said. As if selling the home I had lived in for four years for a dog I had for only four weeks was the most normal choice in the world.
So with her help and the support of all my family and friends I put my put my house up for sale and planned a future in a new neighbourhood with my new pet.
Luckily I have a friend who knows almost all of Vancouver. Michael introduced me to Tim, who took on selling my place. It was not an easy task. The strata minutes were messy. We, the building residents, had started down a path of unkindness to each other that would be hard to stop. Neighbour picking on neighbour is a difficult thing when you live in such close quarters and like all negative emotions, once you start focusing on the negative it becomes difficult to stop. As sad as I was at losing the friends I had made in the building moving was the right choice. If a dog could cause so many people to be so unhappy it was better to not live there.
So, I sold the place and started looking for a new one. This time I would have a better idea how to read strata minutes and making sure my dog was welcome would be the top concern.
Then came Kootenay. Soon after she came into my home the people in my building decided that she was too big to live in our building and offered me a choice. Either I had to get rid of her or move out of the building. This was a difficult time. I had made friends with many of the people in the building and then had to choose between this dog I had just adopted and the security and friendship of the people in the building I had been living in for four years. I chose the dog. It was my first moment of madness. I am not sure I would have been able to make that choice had my sister not been around. She, in her ever practical and capable way, made the choice of moving because of my new dog an easy one. “Of course you’ll move,” she said. As if selling the home I had lived in for four years for a dog I had for only four weeks was the most normal choice in the world.
So with her help and the support of all my family and friends I put my put my house up for sale and planned a future in a new neighbourhood with my new pet.
Luckily I have a friend who knows almost all of Vancouver. Michael introduced me to Tim, who took on selling my place. It was not an easy task. The strata minutes were messy. We, the building residents, had started down a path of unkindness to each other that would be hard to stop. Neighbour picking on neighbour is a difficult thing when you live in such close quarters and like all negative emotions, once you start focusing on the negative it becomes difficult to stop. As sad as I was at losing the friends I had made in the building moving was the right choice. If a dog could cause so many people to be so unhappy it was better to not live there.
So, I sold the place and started looking for a new one. This time I would have a better idea how to read strata minutes and making sure my dog was welcome would be the top concern.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)