A year at home

Just over a year ago, I returned to Canada for my brother's wedding. At the time, I believed it would be a short visit home. I think I knew that I would have to stay because I remember talking about my fears of being trapped in Canada, but I refused to accept it - Comalapa was my home. 

I was part of something in Guatemala that was revolutionary. Long Way Home is something I was ready to dedicate everything I had to. I dismissed any thought that my life could be led with the same purpose and passion anywhere else. 

I had tried it before, and at every turn I grew more angry - school, job searches, activist circles, society, government...it all frustrated me beyond belief. It felt like ramming myself into a brick wall that never gave any sign of weakness or anyway over or around. It pissed me off that barely anyone saw the same wall in front of them doing just as much damage to them as it did to me.

In Guatemala, I had found my home away from home, an adopted family that loved me just as much as I did them and work that made me proud. I was part of something that was making a tangible difference and offered a real solution to the things I care about the most - anti-poverty, indigenous rights, environmentalism. 

I was happy for, I think, the first time in my adult life. My life was an adventure - everyday, I learned something new. I was privileged to introduce international tourists/travelers/volunteers to a people, place and way of life that takes little for granted. It was an incredibly refreshing experience after coming from the wasteful and disconnected society here at home.

Then I returned to Canada and had to stay. I stopped reading with the ferocity that I once had. I took a step back from activist communities because I was exhausted - mentally, spiritually, and physically worn out. It felt like everything was for naught. The world is a messed up place and trying to change it felt fruitless. 

I remember my first job back here because it seemed so meaningless and ineffective. I'm not someone who cries easily, but that job made me weep at the apathy that surrounded me. LWH spoiled me with active world citizens, people who gave a shit and took action to make a difference. Back here, I started to find the anger that I had been so happy to live without. So, I removed myself for fear that it would consume me. I stopped learning. I lost my passion, my energy and so much of what makes me, well, me.

I am slowly finding myself again. I am reading a little more. I am trying to not be irritated and angry because those are not the antonyms of apathy or complacency. I feel more productive and effective. My spirit is steadily being restored. I was once told that repatriation takes two years, so I'm only at the half way mark. The past two to three months have been, by far, the best of the last twelve. I feel happy and full of anticipation of what life holds for the first time in a long time.

Special Note: Thanks to all my family and friends (near and far) who've put up with me for the last year. I know I have not been the most pleasant person to be around, talk to, or get emails from. I am profoundly grateful for everyone that accepts me during the most difficult parts of life. Without you, I don't know what I'd do or where I would be.

Home again

My last week in Yukon Territory made me wish that I had more money and time to get outside of Whitehorse a bit more than I was able to. There's so much beauty that I missed because of my minuscule travel budget and limited time. It makes me a bit sad because I can't see myself going back anytime soon with so many other places in the world left to see. 

Regardless, it was a great experience and I'm very happy that I made the journey. It gave me perspective and this is the first time in awhile that I am thrilled to be home in Southern Ontario. I missed Ontario's diverse flora and fauna, warm summer nights (mainly darkness, 24-hours of daylight is magical but fatiguing) and, of course, my dog.

Now that I am home, I am still looking for work in the nonprofit world. Though, I am beginning to think that maybe I should work somewhere where I am decently paid to save my money to do what I believe in during vacation time, sorta vagabond style, rather than dedicating my entire career and life to a particular type of work. It's something that I've been toying with for the past few months, but I have also spent the last five to ten years going after a particular career that I am having trouble letting go of that idea. We'll see.

Chase vehicle and balloon disappearing into the clouds 

For right now, I have a pretty cool job chasing a hot air balloon twice a day, seven days a week. Launch is usually around 6am and 7pm, and as a result my sleep pattern is broken and irregular. But, that's the worst part of this job. I work with good and interesting people, have about an hour of real work per flight, see sunrise and sunset daily, drink a glass of champagne after each flight and chase a hot air balloon around the Kitchener-Waterloo countryside. Cool. I might even go work a balloon festival in New Mexico in a couple months, but I haven't decided if that's a good move for me yet.

Getting political North of 60

With five days left in the North, it occurs to me that I have been using this blog as a diary rather than a comment on the socio-political and economic experiences that I have been apart of. This is somewhat out of character for me. So, as my time winds down, here are a few things that I want to write before this place is a memory.

Housing: There is a housing crisis all over the North. In Whitehorse, the emergency homeless facilities are regularly full or near capacity. In 2011, 48% of the business community had employees that had difficulty with adequate and affordable housing (whoa!). For the past few years, the territory has seen the effects of a commodity-fueled mining rush and stimulus spending, as well as an astonishing shortage of housing lots. Whitehorse has near-zero vacancy rates (odd when you see so many homes for sale) that gave rise to high rents and outrageous housing prices (they went up 62% between 2005 and 2008).

In my opinion, the root-problem of the housing crisis can be found in incompetent city planning. With proper engineering, structures could be built vertically (above the current four storey maximum) to mitigate sprawl and environmental degradation. There is also a lot of land where new homes could be built and a number of derelict buildings that could be restored. With such severe winters, homelessness ought to not exist here and government has a fiduciary responsibility to ensure that the people have shelter.

Environment: Whitehorse calls itself the wilderness city and people are very active year round (from what I have been told, at least). There is a profound appreciation for the land and the elements, but also a certain willful ignorance with resources. The obvious thing to talk about here would be the resource extraction industry. I have a strong belief that we need mining (I like shiny things) and being able to utilize certain resources is often what pushes humanity into a new era of cultural evolution (ex. computers and internet). However, it needs to be done responsibly. I have learned from getting into conversations with pro and anti-mining locals that I do not have a solid enough knowledge base to say more than that.

The best example I can offer to explain my statement of willful resource ignorance is water. The territory’s water quality is greatly influenced by glaciers. Between 1958 and 2008, the total ice area in Yukon shrank by 22% that influences a decrease in stream flow. Over the last several decades, temperatures have increased while precipitation has slightly increased in winter (but has more often increased as rain and not snow) and decreased in summer. Higher water temperatures affect ecosystems, human health and the reliability of water systems. It is difficult for scientists to predict what will happen, but these issues seem to infrequently cross people’s minds up here. I suppose when you live with 40 below freezing, you would welcome warmer temperatures. On the flipside of that, last week it rained moderately heavy for about 20 minutes and parts of Whitehorse flooded, including the house I am staying in because of inadequate sewer infrastructure.

Racism. On the surface, this community appears to be open and accepting. Art on the exteriors of buildings gives the illusion of inclusivity and a seemingly accurate depiction of history. However, I have been walking down the street and overheard chilling comments and have been involved in conversations where blatant racial slurs, stereotypes and inaccuracies were stated as fact. I have been subjected to comments involving First Nations, had remarks directed against myself as a white southern female, and heard slurs against the Filipino community who are more-often part of a Federal work program that gives a path to citizenship. As an outsider, it has been difficult for me to effectively tackle such opinions with any sort of weight or force. I don’t want to give the impression that Whitehorse is worse (or better) than other places since racist attitudes are part of institutional structures of this country.

The North certainly has its problems, but it is a friendly place that is full of iconic Canadiana sights (see above picture), sounds and experiences. I highly recommend that if you're given the chance that you come and see one of the last frontiers that this country and our planet has left. It is an incredibly gorgeous place that has a total population smaller than a medium-sized city for a landmass larger than most countries.

Time goes by so quickly

Feet in the Yukon River

With a little less than two weeks left in Yukon Territory, I am in a rush to get things done that I haven't over the last month. I've gone on a number of extended walks, gone to hot springs, eaten at the most touristy restaurant in Whitehorse where I ate reindeer, climbed sandy cliffs and steep inclines, put my feet in the Yukon River and walked around a Lake taking a long break when we arrived at a canyon. It has been a pretty good week. 

The coolest thing is that most of these activities have started in the afternoon and ended well into night time, while the sun is still out(!). Back home I'm pretty good at telling the time by the sun, but here I'm always asking, "what time is it" and am flabbergasted when I am told 9pm or 3:30am. This weekend a number of us are going camping near the Yukon/Alaska border at a spot called Pine Lake. I had plans to climb up King's Throne - a mountain that half way up, just past the tree-line, has a rock outcrop that looks like a rock throne. Cool!  

I say I had plans, because over the weekend while walking around a lake, I somehow tweaked something on top of my left foot. It has been very painful for the past couple days, to the point that I am opting to walk around barefoot because it is less painful. My main mode of transportation has been my feet here and having a messed-up foot isn't doing me any good. A few quick internet searches tell me that it's likely tendinitis and that the cures are rest, hot/cold baths and mild anti-inflammatory meds. Today is a little better, but I am about to walk for an hour to work because I am short $1 for bus fare, maybe I'll see if I can hitch.

If I don't get to do any hiking this weekend, maybe I'll see some wildlife. Apparently, there are bears where we are going. I'm still pretty scared to encounter one, but what is life without a little fear?

Midnight Sun

Local time is 12:30am. While the sun has dipped below the horizon, its light is still strong. I just took that picture of me minutes before posting this - no flash nor messing with the exposure.  It is an incredible experience to have nearly 24-hours of light, but I can tell my body isn't used to it.

I find myself feeling tired most of the time. I don't think I have slept for more than three hours straight since arriving here, unless induced by alcohol. Some nights I sleep for an hour at a time and sometimes I sleep in blocks of a couple hours here and there. My body and brain are in a battle to mitigate fatigue and my body is on the losing end.  

I am very much looking forward to seeing a dark night and finding a sleep pattern that resembles normalcy when I return to Ontario. I can't believe that happens in three weeks already. There's so much left here that I want to do and see: a bear, a heard of elk or caribou, hike Grey Mountain and get outside of Whitehorse a bit. 

Honestly, I'd be okay without seeing a bear. Mostly because I'm pretty terrified of bears, since I have no real understanding of how to interact with them. More correctly, how to give them their space. My gut tells me that if I came across a bear I'd be in the newspaper as that silly woman who didn't know what she was doing and tragically lost her life. Yup, that'd be me, best to stay away.

Going to try to sleep now. G'night world, or good morning since most will be reading this after (hopefully) a full nights sleep.

Beautiful people, beautiful scenery

The weather has taken a turn for the better. With highs of 20°C this past week and nearing 30° for the next week, it feels like spring was skipped and summer has arrived. Over the past 48 hours the buds on the trees have started to open and right now there is an explosion of light-green leaves starkly contrasted against the dark-green of the spruce trees and the rocky snow-caps of the mountains. It’s a gorgeous thing to witness and I am privileged to have this epically beautiful experience.

From what I understand, the weather is particularly different up here this year. The winter was longer, colder and harder, and spring has arrived later than normal. Abnormal weather is the trend around the world these days and it is becoming increasingly more difficult to predict. You ought to leave your house prepared for 20-degree shifts in temperature and be ready for drought or floods and severe storms. It boggles the mind that there are still people who deny that climate change is real when I can clearly detect shifts in weather patterns within my short life. Though, this is a subject for a different post.

The pace of life is much slower here in the North, and people seem to be friendlier for it. It’s reminiscent of my experience in Guatemala, in that when you walk down the street you say hello to folks you encounter and they actually respond with a smile and a greeting. That doesn’t happen so frequently back home. People also go out of their way to help you out. I am routinely offered guided tours of the wilderness, receive invites to join a group of friends for the weekend adventures and am given suggestions about the best way to go for a canoe trip down the Yukon river. I have seldom, as of yet, accepted any of these offers but am keeping a detailed mental list and plan to take full advantage of people’s kindness. Hopefully, I can appropriately reciprocate their unselfish helpfulness. 

On that note, I highly recommend to anyone who is disillusioned about the state of humanity to take a trip to a different place and relish in the kindness of strangers. Go to a developing country, somewhere more economically sound or a place just a few hours away from home, it is a beautiful thing to be warmly welcomed into a place that is a little strange. It strengthens the soul and makes the heart happy. I am living proof that you don’t need a lot of money to make this happen, you just can’t be risk-adverse or be shy about asking for help.

I should’ve brought warmer clothes.

When packing for this trip, I opted to not carry my winter jacket across the continent. What a silly Southerner I am. Since last weekend the temperature hasn’t broken 10°C. It is currently -1°C in Whitehorse with an overnight low of -3°C and snow in the forecast. If you look closely, you can see the snow swirling off the snow capped mountains just waiting to rip through your clothing and send shivers to your bones. 

This is not what I am accustomed to calling spring, but the people here are outside cleaning up their yards (they sweep their lawns with brooms to remove a mold that builds up this time of year, strange) and gardens in anticipation of warmer weather. I’m not cut out for the cold and am wishing that I had packed mittens, a toque and my warm winter jacket. 

Walking into town

Besides the weather, I am in constant and complete awe of the beauty of this place. There’s a reason that they call Whitehorse the Wilderness City. A myriad of trails exist here that take you into pristine nature within minutes of leaving your door. I am somewhat surprised, though, of the amount of trash that you encounter but I am of the opinion that it’s because the snow just melted and folks haven’t had a chance to go out and do their annual trash pick-up. 

This awareness and appreciate for nature from the people is something I really love about it here; there is a connectedness to the land that doesn’t exist in the same way in Southern Ontario. I suppose when more than half your life is subject to surviving the frigid elements, you feel a certain appreciation for the land. 

I keep telling the kids that I work with to be thankful that they get to live with mountains. Most of them seem to shrug off my words, until I show them a few pictures I have from a hot air balloon ride I was fortunate to take a few days before coming North. It’s only then that their eyes widen in awe of how far the eye can see. Southern Ontario is beautiful in it’s own right, but mountains, gosh I just love them.

In other news, I have moved from living with the family I originally got set up with here, and am now staying with my friend who set me up with the gig at the Boys and Girls Club and his girlfriend. I am beyond grateful to have folks open their home to me. People really do make a place. They also have an awesome dog, Pearl, which is making separation from my pup more bearable and oddly more painful.

Less than 48 hours in the North

As the plane was preparing for landing the pilot came over the intercom system and said that the temperature outside was 14 degrees. I half didn’t believe him because I had been staring at frozen water for the past two hours, but he had no good reason to lie. Regardless, I put on a light sweater and pulled out my jacket in anticipation of the air being crisp and cold. It’s a strange thing to see snow and ice, have your brain tell you to bundle up and then to have your body tell you that it’s too warm.

The Whitehorse airport is small and quaint. Security is minimal (I left the airport to have a cigarette and then came back in to claim my luggage without anyone saying a word, weird) and everything had the orange and yellowish colour tones of the 70s. Immediately I felt like I had taken a step back in time and really felt that I was in a little northern town, though Whitehorse is a big town in these parts.

I haven’t quite found my feet, yet. That is to be expected as I have only been here for less than 48 hours. So far, I like it a lot. It is a very different experience from going to Guatemala, there isn’t a language barrier, and the cultural barrier is much less severe. Yesterday, I stopped in at the Boys and Girls Club, where I am working for the next six weeks, just to get a general feel for where I would be spending a good deal of my time. I had intended to get in and out rather quickly and then explore the city, but they were short-staffed and asked if I could start right away – of course I would.

I think the strangest thing for me to get used to is the amount of day-light there is. My body has generally been in-tune with the sun – when it’s dark outside I’m tired and when it’s bright I am awake. But here, right now at least, the sun never goes away. Last night when I returned home, I felt exhausted and had intended on taking a nap. I went into my room and before I knew it, it was 10pm but the sun was still so strong that it looked like 5pm outside. My body is either going to adapt or I am going to become an insomniac. Fingers crossed for adaptability.

The family that I am staying with is exceptionally friendly and interesting. I am grateful to have found them and have them welcome me into their home with their arms wide open. They are tentatively planning a trip to Dawson City (6 hour drive North) and Skagway, Alaska sometime during my time here…very cool!

It’s wonderful to be around mountains again. These ones are very different ones from the ones I lived with in Guatemala, extremely gorgeous but in a pristine sort of way. Well, I don’t have much else to say. I am sitting in a Tim Horton’s using their internet and should probably be productive before the battery on my computer dies. 

I’m going north! Wait, what?

My job at the electronics factory ended rather abruptly early last week. I returned home after a shift one day and received a phone call saying that I had just finished my last day. Temporary employment, sigh, it has zero job security. Back to full-time job hunting, again.

Yesterday, I responded to something a university acquaintance posted about a short-term position in the Yukon. He got back to me quickly and it felt like the job was mine as long as I could get myself there.

I’ve managed to save a significant portion of what I’ve made over the last few months and I can afford the journey. With my luck finding work in my field here in Ontario over the last nine months, I’ve been thinking that I need a change of scenery. The timing of this just seemed too perfect to not take advantage of it.

So, we chatted about the job earlier today – kind of an informal interview. Then a few hours later, I had the real interview. After answering a few questions and a bizarre one about physical abuse, I heard the golden words, “You’re hired. When were you thinking of coming?” Crazy.

I’ve booked my flight. I leave May 9th for Whitehorse (I even get to fly through BC and see the Rockies!). No leaving myself stranded in a strange place this time, so I have a flight home six weeks later.

I’m not entirely certain about what this adventure holds for me, like any good adventure, I suppose. After telling my parents my plans, my Mom said, “You never make plans.” True statement. From what I understand, nonprofit opportunities are rampant in the Yukon and there’s possibility that I could land an amazing, permanent job while I am there. Who knows? At the very least, I’ll get to experience a new environment and finally go west!

You know when you make a big decision and immediately after committing it you think, “What did I just do?” in the healthy sort of way? That’s me right now, reeling in the excitement of it all. Mountains, here I come.

Employed

Since returning to Canada I have been searching for work in my desired field – community organizing, volunteer management and research for nonpartisan grassroots nonprofits. After six months of countless applications and never-ending rejection my money was running out and I decided to take a job through a temp agency.

I am working on an assembly line in an electronics factory. The people are nice, the work is easy and the factory is the cleanest one I have ever worked in. I have absolutely no responsibility beyond doing my job right and being on time and I don’t take the work home with me, except for my carpal tunnel and tendonitis acting up. It is really nice to be working again and better to have the numbers in my bank account go up instead of down. But, I am lacking a certain sense of purpose in my life.

The time I spend at work gives me a lot of time to think about my future and my plans, and I often feel that I am going in circles. As much as I miss Guatemala and working for LWH, that portion of my life is a closed chapter (sad face). I have decided that I should stay in North America (I need the wages to clear my debt and the ease of travel to return home when desired) but really feel like I need to get out of Southern Ontario. I am seriously considering making my way out west once I have sufficient money in the bank for a comfortable existence for Whiskey (my dog) and myself for a few months.

While that sounds well and good in my head, I am unsure what type of work I am looking for now. Government and private sector work has been ruled out for the last few years based on principle, and given my last eight months of nonprofit career hunting I have become disenchanted with the idea of searching for work with nonprofits. I am uninterested in planting trees, like the idea of seasonal farm work, but would really prefer something more stable and with some margin of responsibility and agency over my work. 

I am still highly interested in helping to build a world free of poverty and oppression, but am at an impasse about how to do it while taking care of my financial obligations and without compromising my principles more than I already have. If I had any sort of capital I would really like to start my own organization, and if I were more dedicated I would finish the book I’ve been writing and try to get published. Honestly, what I really want to do is find a piece of land and subsist off it and not get one of those job things…though that feels like a pipe dream.

I was cynical about my life/work options before I went to Guatemala and was increasingly fed up with the ‘civilized’ world and am finding that anger within myself again. Now I feel too frustrated to keep up the good fight and just want to disassociate myself from it all.

To end on a happier note, here's a pic of Whiskey...she keeps me sane. I've just realized that I've had her for over a year. Time flies.

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The quality of being fair and reasonable is most always the definition of justice. Justice is attributed to good, moral and right. Justice is what makes one happy, what is practical and efficient. It is a constant and perpetual will of giving everyone their due. It is this absolute and firm concept of justice that inspires imperfect systems to improve. 

Drawing on practical knowledge and reasoning, one can form a strategy for what could ideally be. It is a foundation for making predications for the future: if truth is known, then ideal truth should be attainable. But, ideal truth or knowledge is dangerous to navigate because creating absolute definitions that justify all other forms of knowledge is intensely complex and, in practice, remain absolute only temporarily. 

Concepts of truth are constantly in flux. They vary depending on who holds authority and where interests lie. It is presumptuous and ignorant to recommend dealing with something in of itself without considering real world analogies and observations. Our thinking, my thinking, is shaped by history. Our history is a narrative that is selectively descriptive. It has a pattern of events that appear cyclical, but are really only animated versions of recycled myths that have reappeared throughout our discourse. 

The belief that good will prevail over evil is true only but occasionally. Neither good nor evil will ever literally prevail. Yet, we are bombarded with a message of moral redemption in the interest of putting evil to rest...what is commonly conceived as just is commonly unjust and visa versa. Progress is another myth that is recycled; a narrative of salvation. Communism, capitalism, global free market are myths of progress that are profiteered and have resulted in needless human toll and terror that is predictable and perceived as normal.

The economic boom that we have been experiencing over the last 50+ years has been turning into an economic slump for the past 20+. We have over-populated cities with not enough demand for work and skyrocketing levels of exploitation on our planet and its creatures. We need to go beyond determining that power exists and where it exits. We need to take on the task of imagining a good and just society and then advocating ways in which to achieve this.

Today’s puzzles are less about why differences exits, and more about how people can overcome positional differences to collaborate on issues of common concern. Put your trust in people and not in all the institutions they work in. People are what matter.