girl, narrated

I'VE MOVED!

2011-09-24T15:01:00.002-04:00

New site! I'm now at lesleytrites.com.

Favourite Books Read in 2009

2010-01-04T15:04:00.015-05:00

I keep a list of all the books I read each year. The rule is that I have to finish the book for it to make the list. Partially read books can't go on the official list but get relegated to the less-impressive "Partially Read" list.

Here are some favourites from the 2009 (official) list:

Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin, Three Cups of Tea
Miriam Toews, The Flying Troutman
Michael Winter, This All Happened
Pasha Malla, The Withdrawal Method
Lisa Moore, February
Curtis Sittenfeld, American Wife
Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
Zoe Whittall, Holding Still for As Long As Possible
Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler's Wife
Nicole Krauss, The History of Love
Jessica Grant, Come, Thou Tortoise
Kathryn Borel Jr., Corked: A Memoir
Kevin Zraly, Windows on the World: Complete Wine Course

The last book isn't a literary book; it's a course book on wine. Some of my reading time previously dedicated to fiction has been allocated to reading about wine of late, and these days I'm more often blogging over at girl on wine.

Fill in The Gaps

2009-06-04T06:59:00.003-04:00

I somehow neglected to post about it, but some time ago I posted my Fill In The Gaps reading list over here.

February by Lisa Moore

2009-06-04T06:44:00.002-04:00

On Valentine's Day in 1982, a terrible storm hit the coast of Newfoundland. An oil rig called the Ocean Ranger sank, causing the death of 84 men. Lisa Moore's new novel February explores the psyche of Helen O'Mara, whose husband Cal was on the boat. The narrative is divided into short sections, dropping in on a moment in Helen's timeline and then doubling back or moving forward with graceful fluidity to visit another one. Such are the poignant details of these moments that it's possible to pick up the threads and weave together the at times heartbreaking story of Helen's life.

Moore does an excellent job of capturing the pain of Helen's loss and the difficulty of being left alone to raise three children. The narrative also touches on the lives of Helen's fatherless children, especially her son John, who is surprised to discover he will soon become a father. Moore's prose simply dazzles with its understated emotions and evocative use of colourful images. The two are often juxtaposed to wonderful effect, as in a scene about the now grown-up John:
“And Jane Downey had hung up on him. There was just the platform and the giant boulders and the pale yellow dress of the Japanese child and the red candy ring catching the light.” (33)

The beauty of Lisa's Moore's prose is often startling. Reluctant to reach the last page, I drew out reading February for as long as possible to savour its beauty.

Thanks to @houseofanansi and the House of Anansi Review Crew for the chance to read and review an advance copy of this book!

Things I've Been Reading Lately

2009-03-30T20:58:00.014-04:00

The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga (Free Press)
I was in the mood for a page-turner, and that's what I got. Balram Halwai, the narrator and main character, explains how he left the "darkness" in rural India for the "light" of the cities and eventually became a successful business owner in Bangalore. His tale is a compelling story and kept me hooked until the end, but something about the narrative set up for the novel kind of bothered me. The narration is given over seven nights, all told in long letters that Balram is presumably writing to a Chinese politician. To me this narrative frame seemed a bit gimmicky, and at the end I still saw no real reason for its existence. I think the best parts were somewhere in the middle, when this frame fell away and the real story emerged. Winner of the Man Booker Prize in 2008.

The Man of My Dreams by Curtis Sittenfeld (Random House)
Someone asked me what I was reading recently and I was a bit embarrassed to reply "The Man of My Dreams." I had expected that the title might be some kind of ironic play on words, but no, it really was about a girl searching for the man of her dreams. Not really sure why some editor didn't change the title. I picked this up because of my love for Sittenfeld's first novel, Prep, and while I can't say that I was as wildly enthusiastic about this one, it was still a good read that I had a hard time putting down for three days. The narrative drops in on Hannah, the main character, at several points in her life between the ages of 14 and somewhere in her late 20s. Hannah is self-conscious, neurotic, depressed, and often seems to say the wrong thing, but there's still something likable about her. Less precocious and somehow more depressing than Prep, but still worth the time.

Stripmalling by Jon Paul Fiorentino (ECW Press)
This is Jon Paul Fiorentino's first novel (he's published several books of poetry and a book of short fiction), and of course it's hilarious, much like JPF himself. The protagonist, Johnny, works in a strip mall. But he has bigger aspirations: he wants to be a writer and eventually starts writing a novel called Stripmalling. Self-referential but not annoyingly, over-theoretically so, Stripmalling is a hybrid of novel and graphic novel, a pastiche of diary entries (mid-life crisis reports), letters, interviews, and confessions. It's very clever and very good fun.

Jack by Mike Spry (Snare Books)
I really liked these poems. They're quirky, narrative-driven, honest, confessional, and funny. There are recurring characters and themes that give the collection a real sense of continuity that keeps you reading. My favourite was a long poem in the middle called "Skate Betty," which starts and ends with the image of the narrator's four year-old son holding up a photograph, and in between tells the story of the narrator's relationship with the girl in the photo: "My mum would often ask about you./'Where's your little girlfriend?'/'She's not my girlfriend, Mum.'/'Why isn't she your girlfriend?'/'Because she has a girlfriend, Mum.'/'Well that's just silly.'" And each section of the poem takes its title from a song by The Smiths - what's not to love?

Book Trailers

2009-02-21T17:08:00.006-05:00

Word is that in times of recession, the use of social media as a publicity tool is becoming even more popular.

Well, of course. Makes sense.

Maybe this means we'll start to see more video book trailers (well, in some cases mock book trailers) for literary press books, such as:
Sina Queyras' Expressway (Coach House)
Jon Paul Fiorentino's Stripmalling (ECW Press)
Sean Stanley's Etcetera and Otherwise (Tightrope)

This is a new concept to me, but apparently I'm behind the times, because there's already a wikipedia entry for book trailer.

Sybil Unrest

2009-01-31T21:18:00.002-05:00

To add to the list of books to read in 2009: Sybil Unrest, co-authored by Larissa Lai and Rita Wong. Interesting review here.

I wrote my MA essay about Larissa Lai's last novel, Salt Fish Girl. Consequentially, I've probably combed through those words of hers more than that of any other text. So it's been a couple of years and I'm excited to read her words again.

Book Watch

2009-01-26T18:34:00.002-05:00

A few friends and I recently decided to start a book club. What began as suggestions for our first book club book turned into a list of books I'd like to read this year. Included are:

2666 by Roberto Bolano (The other members of the book club thought that a three-volume book was too much for our first book--funny, that.)

The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga (Sounds like a page-turner; won the Man Booker prize in 2008).

Outliers: The Story of Success by Malcolm Gladwell (Because I need to throw in some non-fiction once in a while.)

Stunt by Claudia Dey (Sounds like something slightly akin to Lullabies for Little Criminals, which I loved.)

Cockroach by Rawi Hage (Because I'm curious to check his writing out for myself after hearing so much hype and even a bit of controversy.)

American Wife: A Novel by Curtis Sittenfeld (Because I devoured Prep and have heard that this one is equally as good, though of course with a very different protagonist/subject matter.)

How to Buy A Love of Reading by Tanya Gibson (Because it's been compared to Special Topics in Calamity Physics, which I loved.)

Stripmalling by Jon Paul Fiorentino (Very funny stuff, and because I'm slightly obsessed with anything I consider "genre-bending"--usually poetry/novel, but in this case novel/graphic novel.)

God of Missed Connections by Elizabeth Bachinsky (Because I've loved all the other poetry books by this very talented and entertaining lady.)

The Pilot reading at Blizzarts last night was also full of good material. I'm quite excited about Angela Szczepaniak's novel-in-poems (again with the genre-bending) Unisex Love Poems. And Eva Moran's reading from her new book Porny Stories really had me laughing out loud, and from what I can tell so far is as well-written as it is funny.

Speaking of funny, check out an except from Jon Paul Fiorentino's new novel over at Joyland.

Wine Tasting Aromas

2009-01-20T12:30:00.002-05:00

Last week two co-worker friends and I started a wine tasting class, Initiation à la Dégustation, through the Amicale des Sommeliers de Québec. The course is in French, which means that I've been trying to reconcile English and French wine terminology in my head and occasionally lean over to whisper something like, "What's moelleux in English?" (It turns out that there isn't really a single word translation.)

As we tasted the wines, we consulted a sheet full of different wine aroma descriptors. I doubt that I would think of many of these things without the sheet in front of me... Rubber? Kerosene? Cat piss?!

This got me thinking about a poster I'd seen in one of the wineries in Mendoza. It featured all the most common wine aroma descriptors with a picture of each one inside an empty wine glass. A little creative googling, and here it is.

Now if only I had room for a framed version of that on the kitchen wall beside my (very modest) wine collection and the two beautiful decanters I got from my lovely girlfriends for Christmas.

Mendoza Mendoza

2009-01-01T15:14:00.004-05:00

Unbelievably, it’s been over a month (almost two by now, in fact) since I got back from Argentina. I only recently got a new computer to replace the one that died part way through my trip though, which means that I missed out on blogging about some of my favourite parts of the trip.

Once we left the rather harsh weather conditions of Patagonia (I have memories of running down the dirt road from the restaurant back to the hostel because it was so cold and windy), we hopped on a plane back to Buenos Aires. We had planned to go into the city and take an overnight bus to Mendoza, but on a whim we stopped by the ticket counter on our way out of the airport. They offered us a decent price on a flight leaving an hour or two later, so I bought my first last-minute airline ticket at an airport.

On our first full day in Mendoza we did an organized tour in the afternoon, visiting two wineries and a place where they made olive oil and dried fruit. (I bought a very small sample bottle of olive oil to bring home and though I’ve been savouring it, it’s almost gone and now I wish I’d bought more - delicious.) All the wineries around Mendoza are actually in outlying neighborhoods, not in Mendoza proper. We visited Chacras de Coria, Maipu, and Lujan de Cuyo. It was quite interesting to learn a bit more about the process and see the big barrels and cellars.

But for me the highlight of that day was our trip to the Vines of Mendoza tasting room when we got back into town. As if we hadn’t had enough wine that day (actually we’d only had a few samples), we ordered a tasting flight of Argentine reds and a platter of cheese. We sat at the bar, and our knowledgeable server, a Mendocino girl around our age, told us about each wine. My favourite was the Pulenta Estates Merlot 2005, which was said to have hints of eucalyptus and mint.

Afterwards we stumbled over to Ampora Wine Tours to book a day-long tour for the next day. I was delighted to see that Pulenta Estates winery was on the itinerary.

The next morning our tour guide Luciana (who, by the way, was excellent - super friendly and fun) picked us up at our hotel. First, we visited a bodega boutique called Clos de Chacras. It felt a bit strange to taste wines at 9am, but hey, you do what you have to do. We sat on couches in the tasting room and, for those of us who were new to tasting, learned about how to stick your nose in the glass and smell, swirl, and then smell again to get the secondary aromas. Tasty wines here - Caro and I both bought a bottle to bring home.

Next was my personal favourite, Pulenta Estate. I loved every wine we tried there and had a hard time deciding which one to buy to bring home. Then we headed on to Ruca Malen, where instead of doing a tour we sat down on a beautiful terrace in the winery's backyard to a five-course lunch. Each course had a wine pairing. I wasn't quite as crazy about the wine there, but the food was delicious. The main course was steak, which was probably the best I had on the whole trip. For dessert there was a cream cheesecake with dulce de leche - I don't usually go for such things, but it was heavenly.

Lastly, once we could barely see straight, we went to the Bodega Benegas, where I was introduced to the sangiovese grape for the first time.

Needless to say, by the time we boarded an overnight bus back to Buenos Aires later that evening, I didn't have a hard time dozing off.

Butterflies, Dogs, Wind, and Wine

2008-11-02T09:57:00.004-05:00

In Iguazu, a butterfly landed on my hand and accompanied us the rest of the way to the most dangerous part of the falls (Devil's Throat). In El Calafate, a stray dog adopted us and accompanied us into town to the restaurant (well, at least until he started chasing the shiny wheels of each passing car). In El Chalten, we had only the howling wind and the rain by our side. And here in Mendoza, we have wine.

So, yes, where was I the last time I had internet access for more than five minutes? The Perito Moreno glacier in El Calafate, which was very impressive and not nearly as cold as I expected (in fact, I was a bit overdressed). First, they dropped us off at an area where we could walk around on the metal-constructed pathways and observe the glacier from various angles. It was incredible to me, how this glacier could spring up in the middle of nowhere, especially when the surrounding area wasn't as icy cold as I thought it should be.

Then we went to another area where we took a boat closer to the glacier and were each issued a set of crampons (kind of like ice picks) to strap on to our hiking boots. Our guide instructed us how to walk with the crampons - go uphill like a penguin and downhill like a monkey. We walked up, down, and around, and sometimes down through small narrow holes in the glacier that were slightly alarming. But we came out unscathed, and they served each of us a shot of whiskey to drink on the rocks (literally, that is).

That night we went to a popular parilla in town. We'd been to parillas before, but this one was a bit more intense - I ordered the lamb, and when a huge hunk of meat arrived on a grill, bones and all, my ex-vegetarian self had no idea how to deal with it. But I think I made out well in the end. It was really tasty, but I ate vegetarian for a couple days after that in an attempt to recover.

Soon we moved on to El Chalten, a four-hour bus ride away. El Chalten is quite remote; it was established only in 1985 to deal with the trekking (the only reason to go there) tourist industry quickly rising in the area. It only recently got the internet, and we noticed that acess was slow and spotty, and the power kept going out.

To be continued...

El Calafate

2008-10-27T22:45:00.002-04:00

As we were landing in El Calafate, Caroline and I were both a bit surprised by the terrain, which looked more like a desert than we were expecting. It's beautiful here with the mountains (which are a different texture and not covered in snow like in Ushuaia) and the pretty turquoise lakes. Our hostel has a gorgeous view of the lake and the mountains. And the infrastructure of the town looks so strange and temporary, constructed only recently (as the tourist industry grew) on dirt roads. I haven't seen any grass or lawns anywhere, and many of the buildings are A-frames with large wooden beams. Ushuaia was pretty too, but rather grey and overcast while we were there (as evidenced but the flat light in my photos); it looks clearer here. Tomorrow we're going on a trekking tour of the Glacier Perito Moreno. I'm a bit nervous about the cold - hope I don't freeze!

Travel Talk and Penguins

2008-10-27T08:51:00.005-04:00

When travelling, I suppose you have to be prepared for at least the possibility of some things going wrong. For a couple days I seemed to be having a string of bad luck...I grabbed my sunglasses out of my bag and both arms had snapped off, I forgot a couple small things in one of our rooms, my laptop died, we had to pay surcharges for our baggages because they don't allow as much weight on domestic flights, and then we found out that our flight to Ushuaia had been cancelled.

The agent at the Iguazu airport was not very helpful, basically telling us that it wasn't his problem and that there were no flights to Ushuaia that day. We started to think we were going to have to cancel the Ushuaia leg of our trip. But when we got to Buenos Aires, we found a manager who was much more efficient and got us on a flight with a different airline later in the day and arranged a car to take us to the other airport (a bit confusing, having two airports so far from each other in Buenos Aires). Our flight was shorter than we expected, and in the end we only lost a few hours...whew! So our luck turned around and in any case, none of these annoyances seem as dire when you're travelling and relaxing and seeing all kinds of amazing things.

Our first night in Ushuaia Caroline and I found a really nice place for dinner, where we both had Fuegian trout that was well-prepared and tried a wine from a different area of Argentina, Neuquen, near Bariloche. I had some kind of stuffed pear with mint carrot coulis for dessert...really different!

Yesterday we hiked a bit in the Parque National Tierre del Fuego. The landscape there was really kind of curious...so many things appeared dead or dying, actually. There were many fallen trees. We found this one lake full of half-dead trees that made me feel like I'd stepped into a Tim Burton film.

Next we headed back into the town, where we took a long cruise around the Beagle Channel. We saw animals on little islands - sea lions, cormorants, and eventually...penguins! I have been wanting to see penguins for a long time, and these ones were pretty adorable. We weren't able to get terribly close to them, unfortunately (so no photo of me and a penguin like I´d hoped), but I'm not sure that human contact would be very beneficial for the penguins anyway. It was amusing enough to watch them waddle around.

Last night we tried a speciality in this region - King crab, or centolla in Spanish. They prepare it in a variety of ways (sort of like mussels) and I tried provencal, with garlic, spinach and parsley. It was really very tasty, but funny in that it comes in a bowl composed almost purely of crab, with no side accompaniments. That's one thing I haven't quite gotten used to here - dishes don't usually come with vegetables or grains on the side; you have to order that separately.

Oh, and a bit more about Iguazu. The first day we only had a couple hours at the falls and it poured, so we just did a shorter trail called the Upper Circuit. We were blessed with a gorgeous, sunny day for our second full day. First we did a longer trail called the Lower Circuit. The infrastructure at this place was insane - I don't know how they've managed to construct all those metal walkways. At some points you can get up really close to some (because there are many, many different waterfalls all grouped together) of the waterfalls - close enough to get soaked, in fact! Later we took a toy train up to another area to see what it supposed to be the most spectacular part, the Devil's Throat as they call it in English. Again, insanity. Biggest falls ever, I guess. Then we did a hike through a jungle-like area that ended at a small body of water with a smaller (in comparison) waterfall where we took a quick swim.

Today we have some more time to explore to town of Ushuaia, and late this afternoon we have a short flight to El Calafate. I just got an e-mail saying that our flight time has been moved ahead by one hour and am hoping our air travel will go a little more smoothly this time.

El Fin Del Mundo

2008-10-26T07:52:00.003-04:00

Wow. It was really dramatic and impressive landing in Ushuaia, the supposed southern most city in the world, yesterday. It's nestled amidst the Andes on a small island in the Tierra del Fuego region. During daylight, you can see the snow-covered mountain chains all around the city. From the air, the landing strip literally appeared to run off the island into the water. It's rather cold here, but the fresh air is refreshing after the heat and humidity of Iguazu, which was starting to make me a bit sick.

A bus is coming to pick us up in three minutes to take us to the Parque National Tierra del Fuego...so more later. Also, my laptop has mysteriously died, so updates may be fewer for the rest of the trip, unfortunately.

Tropical Showers

2008-10-23T21:26:00.001-04:00

Today we flew in to the tropical heat of Puerto Iguazu. I traded my heels in for some hiking shoes, and we saw some (multiple) insane waterfalls in the midst of a thunderstorm.

So far we’ve found this town to be full of conflicting information. We found our way to the bus station, and everyone had a different story about what time the national park to the falls closed. We went anyway and made it in. We had trouble finding our way around though, and when we finally did noticed things like a sign for the train that said the maximum was 5 km one way and 7 km the other way.

But of course the waterfalls were spectacular. Waterfall after waterfall, all thundering and drowning out the actual thunder. We got caught in a downfall near the end and were a bit miserable waiting for the bus. Perhaps due to our utter exhaustion, we somehow managed to walk the same blocks four or five times in search of our hostel once we got back into town.

But a hot shower does wonders, and we found a great local restaurant called Aqua to replenish ourselves. We both tried variations on the local river fish, a white fish called surubi. It was delicious. For dessert we had fresh fruit with a kind of custard-like sauce, torrentes with wine. And of course, the ever-present glass of Malbec.

Lots has happened the last several days in BA, but I’ll have to write about that later once I’ve caught up on some sleep…

End of First Week...

2008-10-18T11:58:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was my last day of Spanish classes – a bit sad because I was having a lot of fun in those classes and learning a lot. Maybe some day I’ll come back and find the same teacher. I think I would have needed something like six more weeks to really become fluent.

On Wednesday I went to visit the Recoleta cemetery, one of the famous sights of Buenos Aires. It’s really like a small village in there, with each small dwelling (not sure whether to call them houses or what) enclosing a casket. Very ornamental. My pictures will portray it better, if I can ever manage to upload them (the internet connections seem rather weak here).

That evening I ate my first Argentine steak. It was really good, unlike anything I’ve ever tried before (but then again, I don’t think I’ve ever ordered steak in a restaurant before so what do I know). Traditionally everything is served with mountains of fries here, but I had it with salad.

Like most nights, I was thinking of staying in and catching up on sleep, but ended up going along to the disco. What a place – it holds 2000 people and I think at some point they had to start turning people away because it was full. Needless to say, at the beginning of the evening (around midnight or later for a club) you could barely move, much less dance. They played typical dance club songs as we fought our way to the bar to try to get drinks and pushed away the men lying in wait who would try to grab you if you weren’t careful (not exactly my type of place, but something to experience once).

Thursday was a bit calmer. With the two girls I’ve spent the most time with here, I took the subte to Palermo. We stumbled upon a really nice restaurant where I ordered chicken a la thai that was nothing like that thai food I’ve ever tried. It was served with small round potatoes (potates noisettes) mixed in with the chicken, sauce, and herbs. Generally I’ve found that food is a bit plain here; Argentines don’t seem to be big fans of spice and I find myself adding a lot of salt and pepper to my food (maybe my taste buds are just used to being over saturated). But the food is generally really good. At the beginning of most meals they bring a basket full of bread, and it’s always a nice variety of different breads instead of just white baguette. The whole grain rolls are pretty tasty. As usual we sat there talking and finishing our wine for a long time; even the calm evenings of dinner and wine go on until 1 or 2 a.m. here.

Yesterday on my way to school I stumbled upon the most beautiful bookstore I’ve ever seen. Seriously, it was heaven in there. It used to be an old opera house. I have to go back and take some photos and buy some books (even if I can’t read them yet). I’m thinking I’ll buy a Argentina novel in Spanish to use as a goal for the next year (meaning the goal is to be able to read it a year from now). Or maybe some Borges poetry.

After class a friend and I jumped in a taxi to go to the MALBA (the Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires). There was some really interesting contemporary (read: experimental) Argentine art there, though unfortunately we were too late for the performance artist on the top floor. I love being able to visit the art museums here, because it’s not something I often take the time for at home.

After the museum we stopped at an empanada shop and I ordered my first carne picante (spice meat) empanada, fresh out of the oven. I learned the hard way that they’re really hot inside and quite messy, but it was really good all the same.

We stayed out dancing until the wee, wee hours of this morning, and so it’s a little slow-going today. I may need another espresso (yeah, I’ve been fueled by espresso and mate this week), because there’s so much to see today and it’s nice and sunny out.

Photos

2008-10-17T10:06:00.004-04:00

I'm slowly trying to upload my stream of photos here and an occasional more polished one here. Most of the internet access I've found here is quite slow though, so it's very slow going...

Conspiracy Theory

2008-10-17T09:50:00.002-04:00

Buenos Aires has some definite quirks. For example, right now there's a shortage of coins in the city. I’ve heard rumours about why this is (involving a discovery of illegal barrels full of coins), but suffice to say that it’s very difficult to find change for the bus (or el collectivo, as it’s called in Buenos Aires). The collectivos only take change that you put into a machine once you get on, so if you can’t find any change (and really, you can't just change it at the corner store) you’re basically out of luck.

There’s also the fake money to look out for. One night I tried to pay a taxi driver and he wouldn’t accept two of my 10 peso bills, telling me they were fakes. Since then I’ve learned to hold bills up to the light to look for the watermark of the head.

Most of the time the streets feel reasonably safe, but we were warned that once a week or so you have to look out for (and stay away from) the fights that break out between rival gangs who’ve come from the areas outside Buenos Aires to pick through the garbage in the city. The cartoneros, as they're called, make their living recycling this garbage.

There's something very fascinating about this city, gritty and charming as it is. I think I'd need much longer than two weeks here to even begin to grasp the history and politics and complexity of it...

Ticking Time

2008-10-15T19:02:00.001-04:00

Paradoxically, time here is passing very quickly despite the relaxed pace of life (and for me, vacation) – I can already feel my vacation time slipping through my fingers. We didn’t make it to the tango show the other night (maybe another time). I went out with a couple other girls and we were having trouble finding somewhere to eat, so eventually we jumped in a cab and told the driver to take us to Palermo Hollywood. We found a resto vraiment sympa, as I’d say in French, though it really could have been a restaurant in Montreal or somewhere in Europe. I had grilled trout (trucha) and vegetables, and we shared a nice bottle of Argentinian wine.

I guess we adapted to the Argentinian/travelling pace of life very quickly, because we must have sat there for a few hours talking and nursing our wine. There’s a standard set of questions among travellers: where are you from, where did you come from before this, and where are you going next? I’ve heard people complain that you often don’t get beyond that when meeting other travellers, that you don’t really talk about home or reveal anything of yourself, but this night we did, talking about home and where we are in our lives. A complimentary glass of champagne (para la casa, chicas) rounded off the evening.

On Tuesday I set out by myself for the first time, explored a bit and sat in a café until I had to go to school. After class, a group of us headed to the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes. It was a mix of older and more modern Argentinian art. I got so involved in discussing the artwork with a new friend that we didn’t make it to the end of the exhibit before they closed.

Next, it was off to a sort of traditional Argentina restaurant for some parilla in an area of the Palermo neighbourhood called Las Canitas. I intended to eat beef (when in Rome do like the Romans do, right?) but kind of chickened out and ordered salmon a la parilla (typical of me – some day I really am going to eat a streak!), of course accompanied by more Argentinian wine. Though Buenos Aires is definitely one of the more expensive travel destinations in South America, eating out is still maybe about half the price it would be at home in Montreal. We had a large table of people, and several of us continued on to a nearby bar afterwards. The conversation varied from previous travels and strange experiences to music and literature (I’ve met a couple of other aspiring writers here, though unfortunately none of us are writing in the same language and so it’s a bit difficult to exchange writing).

Cafe Culture

2008-10-15T18:15:00.003-04:00

One of my favourite things to do, in any city, is to go sit in a café by myself to read, write, think, and linger over a coffee. Buenos Aires is a great city for that because there are cute, cozy cafes on every corner. No matter what time of day, they seem to be always full of people, either sitting by themselves with a book or chatting with friends. Coffee is served European-style, espresso accompanied by a small glass of agua con gaz and a small sweet. And so far it’s very tasty, better than what I’ve been drinking at home. No one seems to mind if you sit there for hours--it's all very relaxed and they only bring the bill when you ask for it.

I can definitely see the European influence that is usually the first thing anyone says about Buenos Aires. Yesterday, sitting in a Parisian-style brasserie café, there was something very familiar about sitting there with my botella de agua con gaz (I had ordered a coffee but he told me “no tienen agua” – we don’t have water – and that they couldn’t make coffee, and something about the reaction of a woman who came in after me told me that this was not an unusual occurrence).

I'm slowly improving my Spanish and try to practice whenever I can. I've caught on to the Argentinian pronunciation (the "ll" and "y" are pronounced "sh," unlike in other Spanish-speaking countries) and am slowly learning to understand people. This week I have classes from 2:00-6:00 p.m. every day. It's a small group of six students, and I lucked out and got an excellent teacher. Let's see how far I get by the end of the week...

First days in BA...

2008-10-13T15:10:00.004-04:00

The flight over was long, as expected – fourteen hours of flying time and, with connections and travel time, almost twenty-four hours door-to-door. I had arranged for an airport transfer with the Spanish school where I’m taking lessons for the week, and started to realize what I’d gotten myself into while trying to communicate with the driver in my broken Spanish. He dropped me off in front of a barred-up front door and I got a little nervous until I heard a friendly voice at the other end of the buzzer saying my name.

While I waited downstairs, several girls came through the door and everyone greeted me with “Hola” and kissed me on the cheek. At first, in my confused state (didn't sleep much on the plane), I wondered if everyone around here was so friendly, but later discovered that the whole building was full of students from the Spanish school, so everyone knows and greets everyone. They all seemed to know a new girl was arriving on the first floor.

Since then I’ve been living in “l’auberge espagnol” and have met dozens of other students, mostly from Holland, Germany, England, and the U.S. In my flat (for the week) I have two roommates, a girl from Israel and a guy from Holland. (So far no other Canadians, though.) Our flat is a meeting place of sorts, and so there are always people sitting around in the common room and people to go out with. Most of the students are a bit younger than me; many have just graduated from college and are taking several months to travel in South America before starting their careers. It’s a bit unheard of to study for only a week like I’m doing; on average people seem to be studying for about four to eight weeks, and then travelling. I wish I could have done something like that.

As I’ve mentioned, I’m not so good at packing. I was sitting in the Toronto airport when I realized that I’d forgotten to bring extra pairs of contact lenses. Luckily for me, I texted Caroline, who happens to be coming to join in a week, and she happened to be at Lisa’s, who lives around the corner from me and happens to have a key to my airport. I really need to learn how to pack in advance.

Yesterday we went to San Telmo, an artistic and bohemian sort of neighbourhood that’s famous for its Sunday markets. There were lots of homemade crafts, mate gourds, tango souvenirs, etc. We stopped at a restaurant and I tried a tortilla espagnol con chorizo (sort of a Spanish omelette with potatoes and sausage) – very different from anything I would eat at home and tasty, but definitely not something I could eat every day. (Those who know me well, or knew me in my vegan days, may have been shocked to see my eating sausage! I still don’t know if I could stomach a whole sausage intact, but mixed into a tortilla it's a bit more palpable.) Washed down with a mini bottle of Argentine red wine from the region, San Telmo malbec.

Later in the evening (and I do mean later – people don’t seem to go to bars here until after midnight, clubs not until 3 a.m., and regularly arrive home as the sun is coming up) a group of us headed to a plaza in Palermo that is full of bars. We sat outside even though it was cold (it’s Spring here, but only slightly warmer than it was in Montreal when I left).

Today was my first Spanish class. After a placement test, I was put into 1B (one up from the first level, 1A). We read a poem by Pablo Neruda, a self portrait, and then tried to write our own poetic self portrait. Mine was obviously rather rudimentary. I realized how much Spanish grammar I’ve forgotten when asked to conjugate verbs in the preterito imperfecto and indefinido. Ow. I’m hoping the learning goes fast this week.

It's a holiday today in Argentina and so rather quiet. I tried to go to the Evita museum with a couple girls from class, but it was closed. So we've wandered and are hanging out in a cafe. Tonight we're hoping to catch a tango show, but we'll see. Seems like it's en vogue to go with the flow here, no worries...

Time Zone Travel

2008-10-09T22:23:00.002-04:00

During a past trip to Mexico we somehow ended up in a strange time warp where we never figured out exactly what the correct local time was (we thought we knew but halfway through the trip the clocks told us otherwise) and how it differed from the time at home. Later we figured this had to do with daylight savings time. This time I figured I’d be prepared and now have to write it here before I forget.

When I first arrive in Buenos Aires, it will be one hour ahead of Montreal. (It will be funny to travel so far – a 14-hour flight – and only have one hour of time difference.) On October 19th, Buenos Aires springs forward an hour and will be two hours ahead of Montreal. On November 2nd, Montreal falls back an hour and will be three hours behind Buenos Aires. Whew – research done and time confusion avoided.

I am a notoriously last-minute packer and this time is no different. It's 10:30 pm - I'm leaving tomorrow and have yet to drag my suitcase out of the closet.

The Countdown Begins...

2008-10-05T21:20:00.002-04:00

I’m leaving for Argentina in five days. Roughly, the plan for the month is to do big city cultural things in Buenos Aires, see the supposedly better-than-Niagara falls and a bit of jungle in Iguazu, hang out with the penguins in that southern-most city in the world called Ushuaia, climb a glacier in El Calafate, trek up Fitz Roy from El Chalten, bike around to the bodegas and sample some delicious wine in Mendoza, recover at a relaxing estancia somewhere in the Pampas, and head back to Buenos Aires to celebrate my 28th birthday with one last fiesta before the flight back to Canada.

Crazy? Why yes! But you’re talking about the same two girls who, once upon a time, during a 10-day trip to Peru managed to: paraglide off the cliffs of Miraflores, eat ceviche, drink Pisco Sours, try the best restaurant, buy new underwear because our luggage got lost, and see the art gallery and the old town in Lima; drink the special tea and acclimatize, mountain bike through the Sacred Valley, see the Pisac ruins and market, eat alpalca steak, and buy alpalca shawls in Cusco; and embark on a five-day trek through the Andes to Machu Piccu. During the trek we made due with our less-than-optimal (non-existent) trekking equipment and survived the cold (we definitely weren’t expecting that snow at the peak and were continually surprised by the children who appeared out of nowhere in bare feet) by drinking mulled wine and practicing our Spanish and card playing with our lovely guide, who believe it or not was named Socrates. We camped under eucalyptus trees and passed through several small villages on our way, and in comparison Machu Piccu was somehow almost anti-climatic with its uber-touristy atmosphere. But still magical. The whole thing was an amazing experience. Here’s to hoping my second time in South America is equally as memorable.

Since I've Been Gone...

2007-10-11T23:36:00.000-04:00

Oh, yes, I used to have a blog...

I started my "new job" over a year ago now.
Funny that it still feels new, but I've finally settled in enough to start doing creative things again...

Lately I've been doing the photoblogging thing and have become quite addicted to shutterchance.

I've enrolled in a fiction workshop and have snatches of narrative strolling through my head again.

It's a good feeling.

2007-01-01T16:07:00.000-05:00

Taking some time to decide what to do with this space...

Fish and Chicklets

2006-08-22T10:15:00.000-04:00

It seems that vegetarianism is going out of style these days, and I'm not the only former vegan turning to fish - Losing My Veginity.

Also new and interesting on The Tyee, the Chick Lit debate.

Rainy Sundays

2006-08-21T10:42:00.000-04:00

After braving the rain to get more eggs and fresh bread from the bakery, we had scrambled eggs with green onions, spinach, and chèvre, and fresh bread with my grandmother's homemade raspberry jam (which is, sadly, almost gone).

Hot Saturdays

2006-08-20T18:57:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was another hot Saturday in Montreal. After a long day of running around we were too hungry (and it was too hot) to make anything complicated and opted for simple quality. But it turned out quite tasty. Toni made an appetizer out of a baguette, chèvre chaud, pesto, and cherry tomatoes. I made spinach seminola pasta with spinach, broccoli, artichoke hearts, and black olives in tomato sauce.

Thursday Night Scallops

2006-08-19T00:33:00.000-04:00

Another first in the Lesley kitchen: scallops. My dear friend Caro came over for the occasion, and I combined a few recipes to make pan-fried scallops (I used olive oil instead of butter and added a bit of ginger) topped with tangerine vanilla seafood sauce on brown rice (cooked with garlic, ginger, and tamari for flavour), and sauteed green beans (also with ginger and garlic).

Simplicity

2006-08-17T10:47:00.000-04:00

Simple but tasty breakfast: plain organic yoghurt, a dash of my grandmother's homemade raspberry jam, and sliced yellow plums topped with slivered almonds.

One Pan Frittata Dinner

2006-08-16T19:25:00.000-04:00

I was a vegan until about a year ago and have only recently incorporated eggs into my diet. I never thought I liked eggs, but at some point during the past year I tried a few egg dishes at brunch (huevos rancheros, omelettes, or even plain old scrambled eggs) and discovered how good they could be. So for my first egg-based dish, I decided to modify this one-pan frittata recipe.

Since my kitchen isn't fully stocked and I only have one non-stick pan, the one pan thing worked well from me. Also, I remembered at the last minute that I don't have a measuring cup yet, so measurements are very approximate. Here's my version:

Serves About 4

Approx 1C Grelot/Small Potatoes (Closest to new potatoes I could find)
Approx 2C Veggies (Red, orange, yellow, and green peppers, broccoli, and green and white onion)
4 Brown Eggs, beaten
Goat cheddar cheese
Pinch of chili powder
Salt, Pepper, Herbes de Provence

I found I needed to cook it for longer than that recipe called for, and probably should have fried the vegetables longer (and with more oil) before adding the eggs and goat cheese. But still, it was tasty, especially with a side salad.

Spinach Pasta with Shrimp Veggie Stir-Fry in Tomato Sauce

2006-08-14T13:30:00.000-04:00

It's been a summer of a bit too much eating out, and now that I'm finally relatively settled in a new apartment, I figure it's high time I got back into cooking. I thought that adding a food component to my existing blog might help to motivate me, so here you have it! I'm starting out simple, so forgive me if this seems rather basic.

1. Get water boiling and cook spinach pasta noodles while making stir-fry.

2. Sautée onions, garlic, mushrooms, and green onions in a little olive oil. Throw in some herbs like basil and oregano.

3. Add green, red, yellow, and orange peppers.

4. Heat up the tomato sauce on minimum.

5. Add a bit of water, broccoli, and shrimp to the stir-fry.

6. Drain noodles when they're cooked and run under hot water.

7. When the stir-fry is ready, add more herbs, salt, and fresh ground pepper.

8. Arrange noodles, sauce, and stir-fry on plate, adding a little parmasan cheese for garnish: presto!

P.S. I seem to be having a problem with my Flickr photos. Usually I upload in the large format and get much better quality, but these seem to have been automatically uploaded into a lower quality and resolution format and I can't figure out why. Anyone know how to resolve this?

It's Not Easy Being Green

2006-08-14T12:09:00.000-04:00

Sadly, things aren't looking so green in Montreal. Not only has Quebec "missed the boat" on converting to organic farming, but one of the community gardens was recently found to have abnormally high levels of lead and arsenic.

The $2.13 Million Dollar Comma

2006-08-07T14:06:00.000-04:00

It's summertime, and as usual I've been spending much less time in front of the computer than during other seasons. I think this article, however, merits my return to the blogsphere. People may grimace at dinner parties when I say that I enjoy grammar and copy editing, but hey, it's important!

Grammar Geek

2006-05-25T12:33:00.000-04:00

I'm re-reading William Zinsser's On Writing Well. It's full of good reminders, such as:

"Prune out the small words that qualify how you feel and how you think and what you saw: 'a bit,' 'a little,' 'sort of,' 'kind of,' 'rather,' 'quite,' 'very,' 'too,' 'pretty much,' 'in a sense' and dozens more. They dilute your style and your persuasiveness.

Don't say you were a bit confused and sort of tired and a little depressed and somewhat annoyed. Be confused. Be tired. Be depressed. Be annoyed. Don't hedge your prose with little timidities. Good writing is lean and confident.

Don't say you weren't too happy because the hotel was pretty expensive. Say you weren't happy because the hotel was expensive. Don't tell us you were quite fortunate. How fortunate is that? Don't describe an event as rather spectacular or very awesome. Words like "spectacular" and "awesome" don't submit to measurement. 'Very' is a useful word to achieve emphasis, but far more often it's clutter. There's no need to call someone very methodical. Either he is methodical or he isn't.

The larger point is one of authority. Every little qualifier whittles away some fraction of the reader's trust. Readers want a writer who believes in himself and in what he is saying. Don't diminish that belief. Don't be kind of bold. Be bold" (p. 71-72).

And sometimes Zinsser is just plain amusing. About the exclamation mark, he writes:

"Don't use it unless you must to achieve a certain effect. It has a gushy aura, the breathless excitement of a debutante commenting on an event that was exciting only to her: 'Daddy says I must have had too much champagne!' 'But honestly, I could have danced all night!'" (p. 72).

Last week I attended an EAC copyediting seminar that brought out my inner grammar geek and made me want to read more about writing, editing, and grammar. My favourite writing guide during my undergrad was Strunk and White's The Elements of Style. During my stint as a Teaching Assistant and tutor, I found Diana Hacker's A Canadian Writer's Reference indispensable. Does anyone have further recommendations?

What's happening to women's rights in NB?

2006-05-25T09:54:00.000-04:00

New Brunswick is the only province in Canada that does not pay for abortions performed in clinics. This violates the Canada Health Act, and the former Liberal government even threatened to withhold health funding to the province. (I'm not sure if the current government would make the same threat.) The Fredericton hospital recently announced that it will stop performing abortions on July 1st, which means that women needing an abortion will either have to travel outside of the province or pay out of their own pockets to go to a private clinic. Not great options...

Here's the original CBC article and an update from today with Health Minister Brad Green stating that he is looking into the issue. Michelle also posted a very eloquent blog entry on the subject.

The Plight of Sessionals

2006-05-24T13:40:00.000-04:00

Piecework Professors: An interesting article over at the Tyee on some important issues facing Canadian universities. I was pretty shocked to learn more and more about the realities of sessional work and academic careers while completing my MA, and I'm glad people are starting to speak up about these issues outside the academy.

Da Vinci Code

2006-05-24T12:31:00.000-04:00

I saw the Da Vinci Code last night. Negative reviews had me expecting a god-awful film, but instead I found it simply mediocre.

Audrey Tautou's role as Sophie Neveu is definitely not one that will be complimentary to her career, in my opinion. (She's much better suited to whimsical scenes like those from Amélie or the storybook princess scene from Les Poupées Russes.) But it was almost worth seeing the film just to watch her instigate a car chase by wildly charging her Smart car up a Paris street in reverse.

As for Tom Hanks, I had too hard a time disassociating him from roles in sleepy romantic comedies like You've Got Mail and Sleepless in Seattle to find him very convincing as Robert Langdon. He's a little too fuzzy around the edges as an actor for my tastes.

Those Gilmore Girls

2006-05-17T09:52:00.000-04:00

Writing about the Gilmore Girls on PopMatters.

A Sample of Montreal Nightlife

2006-05-15T10:07:00.000-04:00

The A GoGo Lounge on St Laurent.

Lie With Me

2006-05-06T07:38:00.000-04:00

Review of Lie With Me up on PopMatters.

In Flux

2006-04-28T19:59:00.000-04:00

It's been and will be a crazy several days - clearing & cleaning out an apartment, watching friends' defenses, saying many goodbyes, a conference, and finally a flight. Ah, transitions. Be back soon with the Montreal version.

On being in your 20s

2006-04-22T13:55:00.000-04:00

I wish I could get all my favourite people to move to the same damn city!

Oh, also, I am now a Master of the Arts! The defense went well. Onward ho!

Almost D Day

2006-04-19T12:16:00.000-04:00

Keep your fingers crossed for me, k?

FROM: (Grad Director)
TO: (Graduate Students)
Master's Essay Oral

Lesley Trites will present her 598 Master’s Essay ("Queering the
Corporate Body: Identity and Postfeminisms in Larissa Lai's Salt Fish
Girl") on the following date and time:

Thursday, April 20
12:00 noon

The presence and support of an audience is always appreciated, and
questions from the floor are allowed/encouraged. Attending an oral
examination also provides good experience in preparation for your own.
So please do come.

Weekend Surfing Roundup

2006-04-18T12:29:00.000-04:00

There's a connection between sex and Spring cleaning, the CBC has announced the picks for Canada Reads 2006, Douglas Coupland has a new book that sounds like fun if a little, uh, overly selfreferential (I'm skeptical but will probably read it anyway), and Jan Wong becomes a maid for a month, à la Barbara Ehrenreich.

The Beat that My Heart Skipped

2006-04-14T15:26:00.000-04:00

I have an article on The Beat that My Heart Skipped up on PopMatters.

Identity-making & Digital Communities

2006-04-14T13:37:00.000-04:00

Today I came across a scholar, Danah Boyd, who's doing some interesting work on identity-making in digital communities. I was especially interested in the way the metaphor of the body reoccurs in her work:

Identity Production in a Networked Culture: Why Youth Heart MySpace:
"The dynamics of identity production play out visibly on MySpace. Profiles are digital bodies, public displays of identity where people can explore impression management. Because the digital world requires people to write themselves into being, profiles provide an opportunity to craft the intended expression through language, imagery and media. Explicit reactions to their online presence offers valuable feedback. The goal is to look cool and receive peer validation. Of course, because imagery can be staged, it is often difficult to tell if photos are a representation of behaviors or a re-presentation of them."

Broken Metaphors: Blogging as Liminal Practice (PDF)
"In essense, these blogs are digital bodies, complete with fashion markers intended to convey cultural subcultural signals that only have meaning to those with shared values."
"Of course, just as with any virtual corporeality, the act of having to type oneself into being results in gaps that that trouble any clean reading of digital bodies."

Another interesting one: G/localization: When Global Information and Local Interaction Collide.
I find this idea of "familiar strangers" - that "two people who take the same bus every day for years may never interact, but if they were to run into each other in a different environment across town, they would say hello and talk about the bus" - and the way this translates online very compelling.

How do you create a viable digital community?

Spring Soundtrack

2006-04-12T13:34:00.000-04:00

It's a busy time of year, but somehow I've still managed to get out to hear some good music lately.

The New Pornographers and Belle & Sebastian played the Paramount theatre in Seattle on March 26. Neko Case's voice is so distinctive that, for me, without her the New Pornographers sounded like just another indie rock band. But I got over my disappointment at not seeing Neko and realized they're still a good band - A.C. Newman has admirably stepped up to the plate as frontman, and Twin Cinema is a fun record.

There's something about Belle & Sebastian that brings out the adoring fangirl in me. Maybe it's because my appreciation of their music has survived otherwise drastic in taste over the years. They put in a great show, always ready to interact with their audience. I love bands who have this ability to convince every audience that this particular show is special (or, ya know, maybe it's just the shows I go to). "I feel like we fit in this place like a hand in a glove or something," said Stuart Murdoch.

Stuart was as charming as the last time I'd seen them play (on my birthday in Toronto a few years ago), but this time I was increasingly impressed (ok, it's possible that "enamored" might be a better word) with Stevie Jackson, the suit-wearing, robot-dancing, melodica (or impromtu spaceship)-touting other frontman.

When they played “Jonathan David,” a really sweet song about a love triangle, they brought up a cute girl in a vintage dress from the audience to act out the song. She played the part well, dancing with both Stuart and Stevie and mimicking a beating heart with her hands. I grinned like an idiot, as I did when they played "Boy with the Arab Strap," one of my favourite songs. Thanks to the persistence of a couple of friends (because I would never have pulled off this kind of thing on my own), we ended up meeting the band after the show. I tried to avoid turning into a puddle of gushing fangirl, but did tell Stevie that I enjoyed his dancing.

Frog Eyes and the Pink Mountaintops played at Sugar in Victoria last Friday night, April 7th. A favourite of the local indie scene, Frog Eyes is a ubiquitous opening band in Victoria. Though they definitely had me tapping my toes and wiggling my shoulders, there's something aggressive about the lead vocals that I find a little off-putting.

I think Sugar uses especially potent gin or something, because it tasted a little funny, and by the time I'd had a double G&T and the Mountaintops got on stage, I couldn't not enjoy them. I especially love their song "Tourist in my Town," written about (where else?) Victoria. It's pretty fitting that I saw these two bands near the end of my tenure in Victoria, actually, because they played the first show I saw in Victoria in September 2004.

Last night Sarah Harmer played the Alix Goolden Hall, a gorgeous church and concert venue. There's something to be said for a show where you can sit down -- it was very calming, and cozy. Ms. Harper looked quite fetching in her pretty skirt and black heels (which she removed by the end of the show, dancing in her bare feet). I'm a sucker for large string instruments (in this case, the upright bass) and was quite impressed with the clarinetist. I used to be a clarinetist, so I really appreciate it when the clarinet is incorporated into any type of alternative music. Basically, I like it when bands deviate from the standard guitar, bass and drum combo.

Sarah Harmer had a nice chemistry with the audience that made for a great show. She played an good range of songs and several covers, including an especially gorgeous one by the Weakerthans, one by Luther Wright, one by Dolly Parton (she received a fax from Dolly on Valentine's Day about this song), and something bluesy from the 40s. I liked the stories that introduced many of the songs -- before the Luther Wright cover she talked about how, one of the first time she played in Victoria, Luther Wright got so into it he accidentally caught her just above her left eyebrow with his guitar. She still has the scar. Then there her introduction to "Escarpment Blues," lamenting that some company wants to turn parts of the Niagara escarpment, including the wetlands in her parents' backyard in Burlington, into a giant rock pile.

the g&m talks poetic experimentation

2006-04-08T23:51:00.000-04:00

The avantest of the avant-garde: The Globe reviews three new poetry collections from Coach House - a. raw's wide slumber for lepidopterists, John Paul Fiorentino's The Theory of the Loser Class and Sina Queyras' Lemon Hound.

It's been a little while since I've picked up a new book of poetry, and I can't wait to get to my new address so I can participate in CH's Sping poetry committment.

Take the Lead

2006-04-08T14:02:00.000-04:00

I recently joined PopMatters as a film/TV/DVD writer. My first review, of Take the Lead, has been published here.

Goodbye Victoria, Bonjour Montréal

2006-04-06T19:22:00.000-04:00

Things are slowly falling into place. My master's defense has been scheduled for April 20th, someone has been lined up to take my apartment, and some furniture has been sold. I have a summer sublet awaiting me in Montreal and a plane ticket booked for May 1st. Then begins the post-school job hunt (not to mention celebratory martinis on springtime terraces)!

Growing up C.R.A.Z.Y. in Montreal

2006-04-05T14:06:00.000-04:00

Sincere but not sappy, and without the cynicism of other Quebec film darlings like The Barbarian Invasions, C.R.A.Z.Y. interweaves two themes not uncommon in Quebecois film and literature: sexuality and religion. Evoking a very convincing sense of time and place, the film centers on Zac, the fourth of five brothers growing up in 1970s Montreal. C.R.A.Z.Y. is an acronym for the names of the five brothers: Christian, Raymond, Antoine, Zachary, and Yvan. With a penchant for David Bowie and a special gift from the Virgin Mary, Zac isn’t like the other brothers.

With a nostalgic atmosphere fuelled by music like Patsy Cline’s “Crazy” and David Bowie’s “Space Oddity,” C.R.A.Z.Y. is delicate in its portrayal Zac’s sexual confusion. The film doesn’t belabor the focus on Zac’s possible homosexuality, however, but centers on his complicated relationship with his father. Zac’s father, played by Michel Côté, is less than accepting of his son’s “deviant” expressions of gender and sexuality.

Wearing a white construction hat, the young Zac watches his father pull out of the driveway before ditching the hat for his mother’s robe and jewellery. Unfortunately, Zac’s father returns unexpectedly and catches Zac in the act. Even at this young age, Zac knows that he is doing something wrong in the eyes of his father and 1970s Catholic Quebec society with its conservative gender roles. Blessed with the misfortune of a December 25 birthday, the young Zac receives a succession of gifts meant to encourage his masculine side, rather than what he really wants: a baby carriage.

Superstition, and its relationship to religion, also plays a role in the film. Thrilled to learn that her son has “le don,” a gift of healing from the Virgin Mary, Zac’s mother (Danielle Proulx) receives a barrage of telephone calls from friends and relatives asking for Zac’s thoughts and magical powers of healing. Zac’s mother clings to this belief as the reason for Zac’s “difference” and increased sensitivity. As he grows up, Zac isn’t sure if he believes in God, but continues to pray for God to make him a normal boy. He throws himself into reckless situations to test his faith: if he can just make it through this red light, or through this blizzard, he’ll be “normal.”

Zac’s relationship with his mother provides some of the most tender moments of the film, which somehow manage to avoid being overly-sentimental, perhaps due to their quirkiness—this is a mother, after all, who irons toast for her eldest son. Perhaps the weakest moment in the film is an unnecessary tangent when Zac escapes to Jerusalem, seemingly to live out his mother’s religious dreams but more likely to check out the local gay scene.

Marc-André Grodin gives a convincing and nuanced performance as the teenaged Zac. Grodin has been referred to by some as the "Canadian Gael García Bernal," and indeed there’s a similarity between the two actors that goes beyond their good looks: Bernal, known for his role in Spanish-language films such as Y Tu Mamá También, The Motorcycle Diaries, and Bad Education, often stars in coming-of-age films similarly centered on sexuality and/or religion. Grodin’s role as Zac may propel him to imminent Québec stardom.

Director Jean-Marc Vallée originally thought he would have to translate the film into English for it to be a commercial success. Luckily, actor Michel Côté convinced him that this particular film needed to be made in Québec. Its distinctive French Canadianness is a large part of its appeal, and Québec audiences have reacted accordingly. C.R.A.Z.Y. ranked third in Quebec box offices in 2005, coming behind only Harry Potter and Star Wars – quite a feat for an independent local production. The film also recently swept Canada’s Genie awards, winning 10 of the 12 categories including best film and best director for Vallée. Michel Côté won best leading actor and Danielle Proulx best supporting actress for their roles as Zac’s parents.

Vallée has likened the film to a big mix tape. A self-professed music maniac, Vallée wanted to add his personal signature to the film through its soundtrack. The main character connects spiritually to music more so than to prayer—a point driven home by a surreal scene where Zac rises above the Church congregation to the tune of a rock anthem. With C.R.A.Z.Y., Vallée has finally been able to make the film he’s always wanted to make. Gorgeously shot in and around Montreal’s Plateau neighbourhood, this quirky and heart-warming Canadian gem of a film is well worth seeing.

Mad Hot Ballroom

2006-04-01T02:05:00.000-05:00

Another in a succession of recent documentaries about children (including Spellbound, Boys of Baraka, Born into Brothels, and Être et Avoir),
Mad Hot Ballroom follows grade five children learning ballroom dancing in New York area schools. They learn merengue, rumba, swing, foxtrot, and tango - these kids can swing their hips better than I can.

Although it doesn't have much in the way of narrative drive, the documentary retains its flow through rhythm and music. Also, unlike most of the documentaries I've seen about kids, Mad Hot Ballroom portrays these children as intelligent (and very articulate) more so than cute. It also explores the gender politics of 11-year-olds, although dividing the interviewees according to gender only seems to heighten the strict gender roles they're learning on the dance floor.

The documentary puts a very positive spin on inner-city education; although allusions are made to bad home situations, we don't see much of the children outside of school with their families (unlike Boys of Baraka or Spellbound, which allow for more character development). It (perhaps overly idealistically) champions the positive influence dancing has on children's self esteem and character: they're learning to be "ladies and gentlemen." It also, however, in a very compelling scene, acknowledges the importance of learning to lose.

The Return of the Voiceover: Egoyan’s Where the Truth Lies

2006-03-31T01:11:00.000-05:00

Canadian director Atom Egoyan’s latest film, Where the Truth Lies, is typical Egoyan in its use of a complicated narrative structure. The film flits between the present setting in 1972 and flashbacks to the 1950s past. Neither, of course, run in chronological order. Then we have two competing voiceover narratives: that of Karen (Alison Lohman), a young and ambitious journalist sitting down to her typewriter with an admitted “desperate need to prove herself,” and that of Lanny (Kevin Bacon), one half of the famous showbiz duo Lanny Morris and Vince Collins (Colin Firth), who has set out to record the “truth” as he nears the end of his career. Surprisingly, these fragments actually fit together quite seamlessly.

The film revolves around various perspectives of the truth, revealing, of course, the subjective nature of reality and the near impossibility of discovering the “real truth.” What happened to the girl whose body turned up in, depending on who you ask, either a bathtub or a crate of lobsters in Vince and Lanny’s hotel room? Why did Vince and Lanny split up immediately afterwards? Karen thinks she has the mystery figured out in the end, but we’ll never know for sure.

Rather David Lynchian, the film plays with various conventions of film noir. There are the characteristic voiceovers, the confessions, the characters of questionable morality, the high contrast cinematography in the 70s plotline, and lots of close ups framing the subject’s face that emphasizes their subjective point of view.

The plot is often exposed through clumsily-delivered dramatic monologues as Karen thinks aloud, either talking to her best friend Bonnie or accusing Lanny or Vince. It’s easy to write off such problems with the film (including the annoyingly melodramatic voiceovers) as genre satire. In the end, however, its comments on truth and subjectivity come off as rather obvious—once you do the work of unravelling the complicated narrative framework, the truth doesn’t lie all that deep. That’s not to say that the film isn’t worth watching for its entertainment value and eye-pleasing sets alone.

Arguably both femme fatale and feminist, the morally ambiguous Karen attempts to make the best of her power within a limited patriarchal framework: she stands up to her male editor, asserting that she has her own journalistic methods, and fights fire with fire when dealing with Lanny and Vince. Karen takes on the identity of her friend Bonnie while trying to get information out of Lanny (and discover the “real” him). Her bad, overdramatic acting while playing the part of Bonnie is fitting to the overly-ambitious, eager journalist. Does she really feel for Lanny, as “Bonnie” seemingly does? Karen also has a book deal to write about the life of Vince Collins and develops an increasingly personal relationship with him as their interviews progress. She’s not afraid to put herself into her work, as Vince comments after reading her articles: “It’s funny how you’re really in a lot of them.” The question becomes, as Karen herself points out, how far she’s willing to go.

Colin Firth plays a slightly darker (and sleazier) character than usual, unlike his usual bashfully charming romantic roles (Bridget Jones, Love Actually). It’s fun to watch him lose his characteristic British cool while hyped up on bennies on stage. Alison Lohman is competent as Karen, but I fear she may have been cast more for her (admittedly gorgeous) looks than her questionable acting ability. Kevin Bacon holds it together as funny-guy Lanny Morris with his inappropriate quips and lends a certain dynamic energy to the film.

Interestingly, same-sex relations become a potential career-wrecker and source for blackmail in both the past and present plotlines. Vince sets Karen up for a romp with a beautiful young singer who plays Alice in a surreal, sexy, drug-induced segment. The next morning he tells her she’s “just in a dither because you’ve discovered you can swing both ways.” Lanny later claims that this same threat drove Vince to murder at a time when “the slightest hint that he could swing both ways would destroy his show business career in an instant.”

The eerie visual of the dead girl (who caused all this fuss) reoccurs throughout the film. Shot from above, this image rather heavy-handedly invites the viewer to question what truth lies beneath. This girl, Maureen, and Karen are linked throughout the film: visually, both because they look somewhat alike and due to an eerie film blend, and because they’re both young journalists who become sexually involved with Lanny and Vince. Will the young blond succeed in destroying the relationship between Lanny and Vince a second time around?

Sex of course plays an important role in the film, not only because it caused the now infamous MPAA rating scandal. But viewers looking for the hot threesome that made so much press will likely be disappointed, as it is brief and really not all that sexy.

I was glad that the big revelation—that Karen was the same young polio survivor who met Lanny and Vince during the telethon—was understated by Lanny’s non-reaction, because this plot point was a bit too much for me. Luckily, a plot arc focusing on Karen’s relationship with her father was cut from the film (it shows up on the deleted scenes on the DVD), because you can only tolerate Karen’s melodramatic voiceover for so long.

Localtarianism

2006-02-03T17:12:00.000-05:00

Last night I attended a lecture and panel discussion (co-sponsored by VIPIRG) on eating locally. The main speaker was Alisa Smith, one of the authors of The 100 Mile Diet, a series of articles published in The Tyee and soon to be a book.

After the lecture we tossed around the idea of trying a 100 Mile Diet of our own. It would be pretty tough - in the grocery stores lately most of the produce, especially vegetable, seems to come from California or Mexico. Another problem is that none of us have access to a large freezer, a necessity for preserving local foods out of season. We'd need to get some people together, buy things in bulk, and find access to a freezer...

Having only recently given up veganism, I'm not quite ready to exchange my newfound food freedom for another restrictive diet. I do plan, however, on making a more concerted effort to eat as locally as possible.

Eating locally played into my decision to give up veganism. Why, for example, should I drink this artifically sweetened and fortified soy milk that's imported from the U.S. when I could eat some locally produced, organic yogurt? There's also my increasing skepticism about some of the natural and organic foods on the market. I think companies are taking advantage of people's desire to be healthy and eat organic; vegans and health food nuts have become another target market.

Maybe eating local will become the new vegan - localtarianism?

Munchies...

2006-02-02T18:36:00.000-05:00

All the raisins, baby carrots, and apples I've consumed while writing papers over the course of my university career could probably feed a baby horse for a year. I guess chewing helps me think...

Coming Out of the Buffy Closet

2006-01-30T16:35:00.000-05:00

I started watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer about a year ago now. I’ve been slowly making my way through the series, occasionally watching an episode while eating dinner and discussing it during runs with a friend (a devoted Buffy fan who gets credit for introducing me to the world of Joss Whedon and fandom more generally).

I can still see why I was turned off when catching a glimpse of some ridiculous-looking supernatural beings in an episode or two early in the show’s actual reign (1997-2003). This reaction was fuelled by high school guy friends who watched the show only because they thought Sarah Michelle Gellar was hot.

At the urging of my friend I eventually discovered, however, that when watched sequentially I actually enjoyed the show for the character development, the interpersonal drama, and the risks it takes with its plot. (Buffy was, for example, one of the first prime-time TV shows to openly show a lesbian relationship and not do so in an exploitative or careless way.) You get used to the silly-looking beasties after a while. Furthermore, the supernatural elements as metaphors for the perils of regular high school life provide fruitful conversation-starters for English grad geeks like my friend and I.

Last night the rain was pounding down on my windows and I couldn’t sleep, so I broke my the-bedroom-is-only-for-sleeping-and-yoga rule, dragged my laptop into my bed and fired up the first episode of Season Six. I didn’t make it through the whole episode (a double-header) before falling asleep, but I have to say that so far I agree with those who think that Buffy should have ended with the last episode of Season Five. On the (rather off) chance that there’s someone out there who, like me, is embarrassingly late to get on the Buffy train, I won’t spoil the ending, but suffice it to say that so far the sixth season is really creeping me out.

Even More Notes of Randomness...

2006-01-27T18:37:00.000-05:00

Things I've been doing/thinking about lately...

I've started working on my paper again lately, trying to synthesize my thoughts on N. Katherine Hayles’ posthumanism, Donna Haraway’s cyborg politics, Judith Butler’s coalitional politics, and how these ideas play out in Larissa Lai’s Salt Fish Girl. Yesterday I started reading Anne Balsamo’s Technologies of the Gendered Body: Reading Cyborg Women, which is proving useful. I need to get a draft to my supervisor very soon.

I’m excited to be part of the planning committee for what I think will be an exciting conference – the Commons Conference, to be held April 28-30 in Victoria. Check out the CFP if you’re interested.

I’m TAing for an online course this term. It’s interested to observe the workings of an “online classroom” and think about how this differs from a traditional classroom...

Belle & Sebastian is going on tour! They’re one of the few bands I’ve liked consistently for the past seven or eight years, and so I was excited to acquire tickets for the Seattle show. (And by acquire I mean charge a slightly ridiculous amount of money to my credit card.)

I've started researching and planning again for a potential trip to Latin America. I'm hoping to volunteer and study Spanish, possibly starting at this school in Guatemala. If anyone has advice or ideas, I'd love to hear it...

Learning Push-ups

2006-01-24T19:25:00.000-05:00

Recently, I've been introducing my body to new levels of pain. I signed up for capoeira classes and have been telling everyone about this new discovery. Capoeira is a Brazilian art form that blends martial arts, acrobatics, music and dance. Whee! Of course, some moments are more fun than others; I'm still getting used to doing push-ups and counting in Portuguese at the same time. In fact, I'm still getting used to doing push-ups at all. As my running buddy is back in town and I can't give up the yoga classes, my exercise schedule has gotten quite full. With any luck, I'll be able to do those push-ups without cheating in a month or two. Very strange - when did my life become about doing push-ups? This may be a reaction to much of my life being dominated by cerebral activities; it's nice to experience things bodily these days...

Decadence

2006-01-10T00:01:00.000-05:00

I've been back in Victoria for about 24 hours and have already seen a healthy amount of rain. I'm sort of missing the east coast snow. Since flying back to Vancouver on Friday I've continued to wear my wool winter coat, scarf, and purple knit hat, all of which are rather inappropriate for the west coast winter.

I had such a lovely and decadent holiday and caught up with so many wonderful people. Some highlights:

Toronto
- Lexiconjury reading, where I was happy to purchase the Shift & Switch anthology
- Martini Wednesday at Labrinth (these were a tradition the summer before I moved away)
- Teri and I braving the snowstorm to march through the Annex streets and get groceries
- Drinking tea at the Moonbeam cafe in Kensington and stocking up on indie reading material at Book City and the Toronto Women's Bookstore
- Ordering Amato's and drinking wine with Caroline and Teri
- Amazing meals: brunch at Mitzi's sister, dinner at Kalendar (I ate swordfish(!) and we tried mulled wine), brunch at Fressen (always a favourite; such amazingly full plates of goodness), and sushi (tried a spicy tuna roll for the first time)
- Dancing at the Dance Cave (another favourite of mine)
- Saw Brokedown Mountain with Teri

Fredericton
- Spending time with family
- Trimming the tree (or watching my mom do it) and sipping our wine
- Big holiday meals: Christmas eve at friends of the family, Christmas breakfast at my grandparents, Christmas dinner with relatives at our house, Boxing Day dinner with friends of the family, and another dinner with my cousins and their families
- Skiing with my father (I hadn't been in a few years, and I love those new parabolic skis!)
- Catching up with Jill and Kayte over tea or drinks on various occasions
- Saw Memoirs of a Geisha with my mother
- Das Radio show at the Capitol (dancing ensued) and how on the way home Matt, Joe, and I got pulled over for no apparent reason

Montreal
- Saw The Family Stone with Caroline (Ok - a movie with Luke Wilson, Claire Danes, and Sarah Jessica Parker? How could I not see this in theatres?)
- New Year's Eve: Caro, Teri, and I spent the first part of the evening at Caro's drinking wine, and making soft tacos, sugar cookies, and elaborate martinis. We then headed to a Hawainian New Year's party also in the Plateau, toasted the New Year with styrofoam cups of champagne, and ended the evening dancing to 80s music at La Tulipe
- Mimosas, special cheese, and a fancy restaurant with Caro's family on New Year's day
- Cooking again with Caro (we used to be roomates in Toronto)
- The shopping, especially a store on St-Laurent called Surplus that had samples or slightly defective jeans (i.e. Seven jeans with a button missing for about a quarter of their regular price)
- Getting the chance to speak French again
- Exhibit at the Musée D'art Contemporain de Montréal
- Trying two new restaurants with Caro, Soy and Le Petit Treehouse, which were both amazing
- Brunch with Dana, comparing notes about grad school

Vancouver
- Dorian meeting me at the airport
- Lounging around in our hostel because we were both tired from travelling
- Brunch and exploring on Commercial Drive
- Evening on Main St with an art show at Blim and a late dinner at Habit
- Dancing at the Public Library even though the club was kind of awful (I got excited when I heard about a club in a library, but it turned out to be just in the same complex as the library)
- Splurging to take the PCL back to Victoria (so much better than the public transit, especially when you've got luggage...and busrides in the dark are cozy)
- Not getting sick on the ferry this time

I think it'll be a good while before I eat in a restaurant again... Now I really need to get back to work (!!!) - school as well as the kind where you earn money...

in the city

2005-12-14T10:34:00.000-05:00

On Monday, I finished and handed in a paper ("From Identity to Coalition: Feminist Subjectivity and Agency in Judith Butler's Politics") for my last graduate seminar, caught part of my friend's thesis defense, made some goodbye-happy-holidays phone calls, packed, and had martinis with Sarah and Dorian.

On Tuesday I rose at the ungodly hour of 5am to catch a flight to Toronto. I made it to Teri's, and we went for some thai food (her: mango chicken; me: red curry shrimp and pineapple). Then we checked out the Lexiconjury at their sexy new (well, new to me) digs in the back of the Cameron House.

It's good to be back in the city. Today I'm catching up on sleep and jetlag, and will maybe meet a friend for lunch and do some Christmas shopping.

Snow Prints

2005-12-02T11:41:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was December 1st, and it snowed in Victoria? I didn't think that was supposed to happen. Also, yesterday I realized that I'm leaving in 12 (now 11) days. So much to do, so little time! I'll be in Toronto from Dec 13-19, Fredericton from Dec 19-30, and Montreal from the 30 until I get motivated to come back to Victoria and finish my master's essay. I'm so excited to visit with people over the holidays - this means YOU!

Adventures in Light Painting & Faux-Lomography

2005-11-30T16:18:00.000-05:00

Foggy Nights

2005-11-21T01:13:00.000-05:00

I guess I've been into night photography lately.

Vic's Good For Seeing the Stars at Night

2005-11-15T00:05:00.000-05:00

Yes, Vic. The city and I have finally gotten onto a nickname basis. Why does a city grow on me most when leaving is in sight? It's gorgeous walking around at night. As far as online documentation goes, I've been more into the photographic than the textual of late.

Break it Down

2005-11-11T10:26:00.001-05:00

It's reading break here on the West Coast. In Ontario and New Brunswick we only had reading break in February, but here they give you three days in November as well. I'm trying to get a draft to my supervisor for Monday. I have two paper-writing soundtracks these days: either 90s trip-hop (Portishead, Massive Attack, Lamb) or mellow indie rock (Feist, The Mountain Goats, Iron & Wine, Cat Power). Sometimes I just throw caution to the wind and put my iTunes on "Party Shuffle."

The New Religion?

2005-10-22T16:59:00.000-04:00

Christie Blatchford has a column about yoga * in today's Globe. While for the most part I disagree -- if she thinks no one ever sweats in yoga she's obviously never been to my Ashtanga 2 or Yoga/Pilates Fusion classes -- it is an amusing piece, and I think there's something to be said about the yoga mat "ready to be tied with [the] matching cord, which should rightly match the stripe of the waistband trim on one's Lululemon pants."

I hadn't heard of Lululemon until I moved to the west coast a year and a half ago. I'm not sure if the rise in the trendiness of yoga coincided with my move or if yoga is just more trendy out here. But, when I first started attending a studio in Victoria, I began noticing the same symbol on everyone's lower backs (not even just in yoga class) and felt like I was missing out on some vital aspect of west coast yogic culture. One day I happened by the source, that brightly colored Lululemon store, and for the moment rolled my eyes and decided to resist the commercialization of yoga.

Eventually I caved, however, and shelled out for a pair of Lululemon yoga pants. In spite of my reservations, I had to admit that they were the comfiest pair of pants I'd ever owned, not to mention that in yoga classes they saved me the embarrassment of constantly tugging at the waistband of my no-name sweat pants that kept sliding down my hips.

I started doing yoga over six years ago now, before the eruption of these hip, stylized studios, when the only option was to take an Iyengar course at the local Y. Since then, it's been interested to see the rise in the popularity and the increasingly Western stylization of yoga. Apparently more people practice yoga in the West than in India these days. I don't necessarily see the westernization of yoga as a negative thing -- I certainly don't know much about the way yoga is traditionally practiced in India -- but I do wonder about what's been lost in translation. Why has yoga become so trendy, and what about it appeals to people so much these days?

I'm trying to avoid saying something cheesy about yoga being the new religion of the capitalist masses. Instead, I'm off to an Astanga class to meditate on these thoughts.

* Unfortunately you need to either sign up for a free trial or buy an online subscription to read many of the Globe & Mail articles these days. They do have a decent rate for students, at least.

West Coast Fall

2005-10-17T04:39:00.000-04:00

Recently...

- Travel: A trip to Seattle a couple weekends ago.
- Music: A Feist concert here in Victoria a couple weeks ago. She was amazing, and I've had her song "Secret Heart" and her version of "Inside and Out" stuck in my head ever since.
- Dancing: At the Lucky Bar. They played the aforementioned song, as well as several others I was accustomed to dancing to at the Dance Cave in Toronto. Dancing makes me happy.
- Bodies & Power: Have been reading Wendy Brown, Judith Butler, and Donna Haraway for a class and thinking lots of thoughts about feminism, post-feminism, bodies, politics, cyborgs, etc.
- Master's Essay: Writing and thinking about Larissa Lai's novel Salt Fish Girl, along the same lines.
- Film: Re-watched Blade Runner, which fit in well with the previous concerns. What does it mean when Descartes' statement, "I think, therefore I am" comes out of the mouth of a cyborg?
- Body Movement: Yoga yoga yoga. Mostly ashtanga. Made a headstand the other day. And, my running buddy and I are getting better as the weather gets colder.
- Language: Aprendo un poco de español, porque espero viajar en américa del sur.

Cowichan Valley, B.C.

2005-09-09T12:01:00.000-04:00

A friend and I recently took a drive out to the Cowichan Valley for a wine tasting expedition, à la Sideways. (We managed to refrain from making snotty comments about Pinot or dumping the contents of the spit bucket on our heads after a disappointing call from a book agent.)

Our first stop was the Merridale Estate Cidery, where we wandered through the apple orchard, learned a bit about how they make apples into cider, and lined up for the tasting. (She carded me. But not my (male) friend. Why do servers so often ID only the "ladies" in the group?)

Ok, so that wasn't exactly wine tasting. Blue Grouse had lots of grapes and wine for us to try, though, with a view of the mountains to boot.

My favourite winery was Echo Valley, because the estate was absolutely stunning. Their grapes are very young and not yet ready for wine-making, but they had horses! I bought a bottle of their Nouveau Gamay 2003.

I'm starting to learn about wine, but my tastes aren't yet that discerning. At one of our last stops I bought a bottle of French Oak Chardonnay, even though I don't normally drink white wine, because it had an aftertaste that reminded me of caramel. He said this had something to do with it being oaked in the barrels for two years instead of one.

On the way home we drove through Cowichan Bay, yet another beautiful spot on the island:

Salt Spring Island, B.C.

2005-09-03T16:40:00.001-04:00

Earlier in the summer a friend and I took a day trip to Salt Spring Island, one of the group of Gulf Islands that are nestled between Vancouver Island and mainland Vancouver. Salt Spring is a short and inexpensive ferry ride from the Swartz Bay terminal outside of Victoria.

From what I've seen, the Gulf Islands have a really distinct culture that involves lots of organic and healthy food, good coffee, local artisans, and cute cafés. One of the things I find most interesting about the islands is the prevalence of hitchhiking as a mode of transportation.

After an unsuccessful attempt at hitchhiking on Pender Island last February, we were a bit reluctant to try again. At the ferry terminal, however, all the bikes had been rented and taking a taxi to Ganges sounded pretty expensive, so we didn't have much of a choice. The girl working at the bike shop assured us that "everyone does it here."

It took a little while, but when the first car slowed down I almost skipped to the car. Our first ride came from a Québec ex-pat and her adorable daughter. After exploring Ganges, we went to the tourist bureau to see about hiking trails. We decided to climb Mount Erskine, and when even the grandfatherly man working at the tourist bureau recommended hitchhiking, we figured we were good to go.

My digital camera was still in the shop after a rainy incident on the Juan de Fuca trail, so I had dug out my old Pentax SLR. Here are a few (not-so-great) scans:

View from Mount Erskine:

The fairies living on top of Mount Erskine:

A break at a cute bakery café before boarding the ferry back to Victoria:

Montmartre, Paris

2005-08-30T20:16:00.000-04:00

(You wouldn't know it from the photos I've been posting, but I've been back in BC working and studying for almost three months now. This is the last of the Paris photos, honest.)

On one of our last days in Paris, Teri and I visited Montmartre. After seeing the Sacré Coeur, we wandered through the less touristy area of Montmartre and decided we needed a coffee break. We decided to go into the first cafe we saw, which just happened to be the Cafe des 2 Moulins.

In the film Amélie, the main character (played by Audrey Tatou) works here.

We ended up sitting in the same booth Nino sat in as Amélie wrote on the menu board behind him. Here's Teri, and a little bit of me taking the photo in the mirror:

If you've seen the film, you'll know what goes on behind these doors.

Having a nice stretch:

Centre Pompidou, Paris

2005-08-24T02:39:00.000-04:00

Centre Pompidou:

La Tour Eiffel, Paris

2005-08-08T00:16:00.000-04:00

Musée du Louvre, Paris

2005-07-23T21:02:00.000-04:00

Part Five: Paris, France #2

2005-07-17T02:02:00.000-04:00

For breakfast, Teri and I tried a couple cafés in Montparnasse for the first couple mornings. It seemed to be the same breakfast everywhere: croissant ou tartine (baguette with jam), fruit pressés (fancy name for orange juice), et café (espresso). The next couple mornings we stopped at a boulangerie and picked up a pain au chocolat. I could learn to live like this. Easy.

We did a lot of walking (and shopping), and managed to pack an extraordinary amount of activities into each day.

These carousels were everywhere in Paris:

Also everywhere was the Olympic bid logo, Paris 2012. Its gaudiness kind of took away from the charm of the buildings. (After all that effort, Paris lost to London.)

One day we took a day trip to Versailles. We, uh, wandered around the grounds of the Chateau de Versailles, but didn't pay the 20 euros to go inside.

There were almost as many tourists here as there were in Bruges.

We soon left and walked back into the town.

They had nice fruit:

Part Four: Paris, France

2005-07-10T03:06:00.000-04:00

Paris. What can I say? I really liked Brussels, Bruges, and especially Amsterdam, but...there's something about Paris. Until I arrived there I'd been travelling solo, and though I met lots of interesting people this way, I was quite excited to meet up with Teri (who also blogged about our trip, here and here) and her cousin Panagiotis.

On our first afternoon Panagiotis, our skilled tour guide, drove us around the entire city. What an introduction to Paris! We basically saw all the famous sights in that first night. Through the car window:

We stopped at a park. My memory fails me; this was probably Place du Luxembourg or the Jardin des Tuileries:

Soteria & Panagiotis:

Evening was falling...

Not a great angle, but an example of some of the gorgeous apartment buildings in Paris. How much would I love to have such a balcony, with the black iron railing, overlooking a Parisian park? Well, a lot.

We had dinner at Café Parisiann, which turned out, to our disappointment, to specialize in American-style food. I guess we should have been tipped off by the name. We redeemed ourselves, however, by going for a chocolat at Les Deux Magots, a café famous for the patronage of the likes of Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, Hemingway, and Picasso. We sat on the terrasse and watched what was happening on St. Germain.

That night we sampled a couple Paris clubs in the area of La Bastille.

The next day we took a tour on one of the bateaux-mouches, tour boats that go along La Seine. We had one of the many views of the Eiffel Tower that were to come:

Later that day, L'Arc du Triomphe:

And the Champs-Elysée:

After lots of walking, we stopped to refuel:

Back on the street, things looked pretty in the twilight:

Lido!

We didn't actually go to Lido, but to a cinema next door where we saw Lemming, a David Lynch-esque French film. When we came back outside after the movie, there was a street party in progress. Apparently someone had won a soccer game:

Our taxi driver on the way home to Montparnasse was impressed with Panayiotis' multilingualness (English, French, and Greek); he turned out to be a Greek in Paris too.

To be continued...

Part Three: Amsterdam, Netherlands

2005-07-10T02:43:00.000-04:00

The truth is that I had been getting nervous about going to Amsterdam alone. If one more person had expressed incredulity at the fact, or told me that they would never go to Amsterdam by themselves, I might have cancelled that leg of the trip altogether. So as the train pulled into Central Station I was a little on edge, double-checking that my money belt was safely in place. Once I had navigated through the crowds in the station, bought a map, and found myself on Damrak, though, I knew I'd be fine. The Damrak reminded me vaguely of Yonge Street in Toronto; Amsterdam was just a big city like any other, I thought. Since living in Toronto I find that I'm most comfortable in big cities with lots of people bustling around me, perhaps a bit strange considering I grew up in Fredericton (emphatically not a big city).

The thing I love most about exploring new cities is really learning my way around: studying the map until I can leave it behind, relying only on my sense of direction. There's something liberating about the first time you set out in a new city without a map in your bag. This task was especially interesting in Amsterdam, where the city centre is laid out in a ring with three canals nested inside of one another. If you're used to orienting yourself by large streets that are roughly straight, like I am, it can be a bit of a jolt to realize you've been going around in a circle. I must confess that I got a wee bit lost on my first night there, but by the end of my time there I was giving directions to new tourists. I get asked for directions fairly often no matter what city I'm in. I suspect it's because I don't look very threatening and have a (bad?) habit of looking people in the eye, making me approachable. I used to joke that the city of Toronto should pay me to wander around and give directions to confused tourists.

This was the first time I've really been completely surrounded by a language of which I had absolutely no comprehension. At first people seemed to intuitively speak to me in English, but by the end of my stay I was getting regularly approached in Dutch, and I liked to think it was because I'd begun to fit in. I kept hearing the same phrase when I entered shops, and something sounding vaguely like "helppen" clued me in.

The Damrak:

Once I found my hostel I navigated my backpack up one of the narrow, winding staircases that are so common in Amsterdam. I later learned that most houses have hooks built into the front of the roof for moving furniture, since not much can fit up those staircases. Here's my hostel, tucked into an alleyway as are most things in Amsterdam:

I'd barely taken off my backpack when I met a girl from Portland who'd been studying in Amsterdam. She was kind enough to show me around a bit, and so we set off again. At a coffeeshop, where I was drinking coffee, a new friend with no inhibitions whatsoever crawled up into my lap:

Afterwards we got Indonesian take-out food, which was very tasty, and ate by one of the many canals:

The next morning I went on a canal cruise with a girl from Poland I also met at the hostel. I discovered that shooting through fingerprinted windows doesn't make for great photography. Here you can at least see one of the houseboats:

And a cool-looking building...

So, there are lots and lots of bicycles in Amsterdam. And absolutely no one wears a helmet. My mother would have been appalled.

Aww, look, they're a couple:

Bikes in Vondel Park:

And then there was the food. I really liked stroopwafelen and siroopwafelen, which are basically two thin waffle wafers with sweet gooey syrup in the middle, as well as dropje, Dutch licorice. A Dutch bakery (with bike, of course):

I also tried Dutch pancakes (apple and cinnamon!) at a pannekoekenhuis (pancake house), where they had powdered sugar and syrup in mass quantities:

In every city I seem to find one funky, comfortable neighbourhood that I fall in love with. In Toronto it was the Annex, in Montreal it's the Plateau, and in Victoria it's Cook Street Village. In Amsterdam, it was the Jordaan. "Gezelligste" is an apparently untranslatable Dutch word that roughly means something between "cozy" and "kitsch." Here's the Jordaan Cafe, which had a lot of gezelligste:

And a view of the street from inside the cafe (notice that people even talk on their cell phones while riding bikes):

Not terribly interesting from the outside, but this is the Anne Frank house. I did visit several museums and such while I was there, they just weren't as fun to photograph. I especially enjoyed the Van Gogh museum though. The World Press Photo exhibition also happened to be in Amsterdam; it was absolutely amazing and horrifying.

More scenery (I couldn't seem to stop taking photos of canals):

Chairs outside a thrift shop near Waterlooplein market:

The panoramic view from the cafe on the top floor of Metz & Co, a department store:

And back on the Damrak...

And when the excesses of Amsterdam started to become just a bit too much, it was on to Paris...

Part Two: Bruges, Belgium

2005-07-09T00:22:00.000-04:00

I got off the bus from the train station and walked past a large windmill, through a large stone archway, and onto a cobblestoned street. At the Bauhaus Hostel, I stumbled into a bar on the main floor, which turned out to double as the reception desk. I was relieved to rid myself of my backpack and took a seat at the bar. Here I met two Americans from Philadelphia who'd also just arrived. After we were properly nourished, we armed ourselves with a walking tour map of Bruges and set off to explore.

Bruges is gorgeous. Really gorgeous. Small, though - it took us about two hours to walk around the entire city. And that included a stop at a local microbrewery, as per our map's recommendation. It's a medieval looking city, full of monuments, churches, beautiful architecture and canals. Whereas in Brussels I spoke to everyone in French, in Bruges most people speak Dutch and so I resorted to English. (A confession: for the first couple days I was in Belgium, I was mystified by the sheer number of German tourists milling around. Eventually I realized that I was hearing Dutch, not German.)

One of the many canal boats touring around:

I will never fail to be enamored with cobblestones:

Another main square:

Um, I think this one has something to do with royal people:

Yeah, I could see this in Victoria, but still:

Oh wait, maybe it was this one that has something to do with royalty:

I think Bruges has been trying to beef up its tourist image in the past few years; it's now being touted as "one of Europe's major tourist destinations" and "the Venice of the North." It was a holiday Monday in Belgium the day I was there, and it was absolutely crammed with tourists. It was hard to spot any locals. Actually, ironically many of them seemed to be hanging out at the bar in our hostel, which became quite the happening spot come evening.

Well, I have to admit we were a little curious about this exhibit after seeing the title, but I wasn't in Bruges long enough to see it:

Peeking around the corner of an outdoor cafe:

So...many...churches...

In the Onze Lieve Vrouw Church, we found "Madonna with Child," apparently one of the few Michelangelo sculptures outside of Italy:

Another canal boat:

Another canal:

The Stroofstraatje, a narrow alley where, according to our walking tour map, you can "smell the sex in the air" (formerly the red light district):

Bruges was full of bicycles, just a hint of what was to come in Amsterdam:

The Beguinage, which is now inhabited by Benedictine nuns:

Just a few more photo opps:

And well, after all that walking, what's left to do?

The main square (Markt) at night:

Part One: Brussels, Belgium

2005-07-08T17:26:00.000-04:00

So in May 2005 I went to Europe for the first time, something I've been wanting to do for as long as I can remember.

I landed in Paris, took a train straight to Brussels, and hopped on the metro to go to my hostel. Luckily I'd had lots of practice with the Toronto and Montréal subway systems, and so this wasn't a foreign concept to me. After I'd uneventfully found the right metro stop, my first real taste of 'Europe' was walking down Rue Neuve, a street lined with many familiar American, European, and yes, even Canadian, chain stores. I was a little disappointed; I could have been on Bloor Street in Toronto.

After settling into my hostel and taking a short nap, though, I set out towards central Brussels, where things seemed less familiar. I quickly discovered a maze of winding, cobblestoned streets lined with restaurants, each with a host standing outside beckoning seductively, trying to entice you to eat there. One was particularly aggressive, and I, jetlagged, sleepy, and confused, got startled and dashed away, unsure of what was expected of me. He called after me to apologize. I ducked into the first place that seemed less imposing, a falafel shop.

The next morning I set out early and got to see the city in relative peace before all the tourists invaded. (During my travels I had to come to terms with the fact that I too was a tourist, and sometimes I even like doing cheesy, touristy things.)

Place de La Monnaie:

Policewomen patrolling the early-morning streets:

A Belgian candy shop (the combination of neon lights and thought of sugar this early in the morning made me slightly nauseous):

Coming through an alleyway to La Grand Place/Grote Markt, the main sqaure (interestingly, most places in Brussels have both French and Dutch/Flemish names, which can get confusing):

Setting up before the crowds hit:

I just couldn't get over the building facades:

Next I headed to the Centre Belge de la Bande Dessinée, the Comic Strip Art museum!

Belgians are apparently known for comics, and around the city you'll find life-sized comics peeking out at you from the sides of buildings:

Afterwards I headed back towards the center of town, where things were getting busier:

If you've ever been to Victoria, BC, you may have seen the buskers who pose as statues and startle tourists. Well, it turns out they have them in Brussels, too:

Here is the famed Mannekan Pis, or Pissing Boy. This is supposed to be the big tourist attraction of Brussels, and it's hilarious once you get there because it's actually a relatively tiny statue surrounded by a huge mob of tourists:

Here we have ice cream trucks; there, they have waffle trucks:

At a chocolaterie called Planète Chocolate, I saw how real Belgian chocolate is made:

The other thing Belgium is famous for, of course, is its beer (gueuze). I'm not exactly a beer drinker, but quite took to Kriek Sour Cherry, À La Mort Subite:

They had a few other kinds of fruit beer there too; I also tried peach.

In Brugges a few days later, the owner of a beer shop told us that À La Mort Subite (or Sudden Death) was so named because a long time ago the undertakers from the morgue next door used to go there to drink after their embalming work. Now there's a popular label of beer, which apparently you can even get in Canada, named after this beer cafe:

After a couple nights in Brussels I was ready to keep going, and broke in my Benelux rail pass:

Self-portrait while carrying a heavy backpack (a feat, no?):