On Tuesday April 21st, 2009 I had an operation. Thebasis of which brings to mind the biblical quote "...if thy right hand offendeth thee, cut it off...". In the literal sense for me if my right molar offendeth me, pull it out!!! Which was exactly what did after narrowly missing my inital appointment and being told by a second dentist that the process of extracting my broken tooth wuld be too diffcult and suggesting that I seek out an oral surgeon.
So here I was at 3:45pm with the procedure finally completed. The sequence began with 2 vaccnations of a chemical compoundthat called or freezing of my g,ums. One on the upper outsideof my gums, the other on the outsde roof of my mouth which stung. From this pointon there was pressure, suction, drilling and pulling as the detist worked his magic. It took about an hour and lots of muscle onthe dentists end but finally the tooth gave. It took him approximately three tries before the three pronged root popped out. This isthe tooth that gave me tinging itchy sensations for the past month and made me late for the Roundtable Conference in Ottawa. Offend me indeed. It was past time for this tooth to have been cut off!!!
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
The Dawn of Realization
The past few days have been both time consuming as well as tiresome. My final exam for the semester concluded on Monday, since then I have been as busy as a bee. In all honesty, I slept till about 2 p.m. the Tuesday following the exam but that was only because exhaustion had utterly claimed me. The days since then have been dedicated to packing (both my draws and my closest are empty), but I have yet to complete this task. My phone rings consistently and my inbox has to emptied fastidiously as the numerous associates of which I have become acquainted over the past few months either call or drop a line wanting to get together before I leave or to express regret over my leaving. As if I have not socialized enough while I was here!!!
This has brought me back and I would be remiss if I did not take the time to thank the people responsible for awarding me the opportunity inclusive of the sponsors CBIE and DFAIT, the International Relations liaisons of both Brock University as well as the College of the Bahamas, President Hodder, Dr. Kelly, COBUS N.B.C., and last but not least my family. I always considered myself a worldly individual, but my tenure here as an exchange student has made that notion ever so true now. I have experienced the many circumstances of being not only foreign, but black and female in a predominately white country where women are looked at as second class citizens. Yes, I have experienced prejudices of sorts and I did expect this. What I was alien to was the emotion that piggybacked the discrimination; the helplessness that overcame me when I realized that I could not do anything about it. The adjustments that I made to acclimate myself to the temperature of indifference was so out of character for me, I often felt that I was having out of body experiences. It was like having a stranger in my own skin. I was now the often quiet, concise student that spoke when spoken to or volunteered the answer when no one else seemed able respond. I was that 'good student', that was often seen and not heard. I did not take over the seminar sessions or bully the T.A.'s into a change of topic at my peers assistance. I could not do that. This was a good thing, for it has humbled me in many ways.
At the same time, I found myself being appreciated for the student that I was. The many classmates that I worked with querying me about work and reading assignments, the nods or the sporadic conversations in the halls. The off hand explanations of, 'We have a class or a seminar together' that made it all worthwhile. I have yet to leave and already I am missing what I have started here. Looking back on all the opportunities that I have missed like not skating on the canal or having a beaver tail in Ottawa and taking part in Culture wave at the school. However, they seem superficial as I compare them to the events that I have been privy to such as meeting the High Commissioner Mike Smith; taking part in CBIE's and DFAIT's Round table Conference; Savannah Nights presented by Roots (the same group responsible for Culture wave)and Brock Idol. As I sit here and reminisce I realize that I broke even. Justice is really and truly blind and the scales in my eyes are truly balanced.
Three days and counting....
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Where is 'da grits'?
The following is the abstract paper that I completed for my English midterm. The class was a third year journalism class. It was supposedly a feature article for a newspaper. Enjoy!!!
It is about 10:00 am. The sun shine would be brighter outside if only it were not marred by the grayish clouds that tell of the anticipated precipitation warranted a few hours thus. Inside a second level living room five students sprawl. They face the roof to knee windows that are the soul to the quarry view residence. In the corner is a 32 inch television in which they watched numerous genre’s of DVD’s the night through. The television sits on a table and alongside the Dolby surround sound DVD player. Underneath the table is a silvery karaoke machine that belongs to a housemate of the student who hosts the sleep-over. One student lays abed the hardwood finish loveseat smothered in blankets, along the off-white left wall of the living room that hides the stairway. Another student stretches out on the matching couch blanket awry. Beyond the couch lurks the kitchen counter dirty and piled with the utensils used in conjunction with the previous evening’s activities. Three lie on the floor on green makeshift mattresses with blue, paisley and green plaid blankets strewn all over a warm Aubusson carpet. These are Bahamian students at Brock University and they discuss their individual pursuits since embarking on their educational journeys in this common land. They decide to have breakfast together. One student, new to Canada wants grits.
‘Let’s eat grits’, says Brooke an exchange student from the College of the Bahamas. Brooke is approximately 5 ft, 3 inches tall with butterscotch coloured skin, neck length kinky brown hair askew and amber eyes that mimic the glint of a feral feline’s in her plumb round face. They twinkle full of mischief.
‘What grits?’ Tiffany a Bahamian student that has been at Brock for three and a half years counters. Tiffany has ink black skin, dark brown eyes, almost no breasts that taper into a slender waist and large hips that trail down into legs as thick as tree trunks. She is 6ft tall. Her short kinky black hair is in a state of total disarray as bespells her now nocturnal less state. ‘They do not have grits in Canada sweet girl, either you cross the border into Buffalo or you bring it up on your trips from home’ she abruptly canters.
‘Yes’, chimes Brendon in an effeminate nature. ‘I bought my stock on my last trip to Buffalo.’ He sports a slight Mohawk in his almost bald head. He maintains a slim build, dark coffee skin tone and is 5 ft 10 inches tall. His broad nose is bulbous and bears semblance to Jim Henson’s Muppet “Telly” of the Children’s Television Workshop Series ‘Sesame Street’.
‘It’s true’, chortles Kamara a full-figured diva of size 18. The bulk of her mass lies between her gargantuan breasts and bulky stomach. She also bears wide yet flat hips that narrow into thighs that begin thick but narrow down into muscular legs. She is 5 ft 5 inches tall, with a smooth mocha and an almost flawless skin texture. Her bubbly personality reveals, ‘I haven’t come across any in the two years since I’ve been here.’ Her short black hair is covered with a silky yet ragged stocking cap that boasts of having seen better days. Brooke’s entire full breasted figure tenses at this; the perplexities are written all over her guileless face. Breakfast in Canada is definitely not what Brooke had anticipated and was put on pause as the students further discussed their experiences with food or lack thereof since entering Ontario. There are apparently no grits in Canada I would come to find out. At least not the Quaker variety of hominy that I find both myself and many of my compatriots became accustomed to as we grew up. As I pondered this notion, I wondered what else I would find myself becoming acclimated with as my tenure goes on. I also wondered what other international students had found queer if not outright odd about their sojourn here as far as food choices in this diverse multi-cultural expanse.
Grits is an American delicacy more prevalent among the Southern States. It is a traditional breakfast food whose origins are tied up with the Native American Indians that lived on continental North America previous to its occupation at Plymouth Rock. It is a concoction of coarsely ground up grain, usually corn that is hulled and boiled until soft. I utilized the internet search engine Google for grits and came up with hits from Native American Indians to the Quakers to a Groundwater Information Tracking System to a Christian Rap Group. What was clear however was that the dish itself is a staple to the American South and as American as Apple pie, maybe even as Canadian as Tim Horton’s. It was brought to the Bahamas during the Loyalist period between the late 1700’s and mid 1800’s by the generous palate of both slave owners and slaves alike. Since then it has become a Bahamian breakfast tradition as well as part and parcel of lore conducive to Bahamian cultural cuisine.
As would imagine one main concern and quite along the gamut of human nature is the value of victuals. I took the opportunity to ask a few International students about their incidents with food since coming to Canada. Almost every single person responded differently. Meet Stella. Stella is approximately 5 ft 10 inches tall and weighs possibly two hundred pounds. Her complexion is fair and she can possibly be called mulatto from her obvious mixed heritage. She claims “…my mum is known to have ‘crazy Spanish blood’ and equal temperament”. This she tells to explain her lineage. Her eyes are dark and sheltered by thin rectangular framed Yves Saint Lauren glasses. Her jet black hair is long, curly and thick; streaked with brown highlights it runs almost the entire length of her back. She keeps it pulled back in a tight ponytail that she wraps in an old fashioned bun at the nape of her neck. The top half or her body is full-figured, accented by a very narrow waist that branches off into wide, full hips that undulates along thick thighs and knocked knees that rub together as she walks. She is of a pleasant countenance and never far away from a smile. She made some immediate calculations when queried of Canadian food.
‘They eat a lot of potatoes versus rice.’ This meant to say that in her native country most dishes are served with rice; here they are instead served with potatoes. Stella, a Caribbean International Student that hails from Trinidad claimed, ‘I miss the pholourie’. This is a national dish in Trinidad of fried dumpling created from a batter of split pea flour and spices; it is packaged and served with a sweet chutney sauce made from tamarinds. Pholourie is sold in stores by the box in Trinidad and Stella brought 3 boxes when she came up for school last August. Stella has heard of grits but she has never tasted it and her knowledge of grits are along the lines of what she has either been told by her sister, who is currently a student at University in Texas, or has heard from other international students. What she did know about grits was, ‘It’s an American breakfast dish right? And quite Southern I believe…’. This detail could not be taken for granted because Stella knew about grits even though she had never tasted it and did not come to Canada anticipating having it for breakfast either.
Gabriela, an exchange student from the Catholic University of Chile, on the other hand loves Canadian food, especially the pastries. She makes several trips to the Tim Horton’s in a week and has a particular craving for cinnamon. She claims, ‘I love trying new things and I see similarities to a lot of the dishes from my home’. She is approximately 5 ft 11 inches tall and bears the golden colouring of a Mayan or an Aztec. Gabriela is beautiful and she knows it. She carries a mirror wherever she goes; not often do you find her without one. Her lengthy pitch black hair is littered with split ends due to chemical processing. She has a model’s figure; ample breasts tucked into a minuscule waist and could in fact almost pass for one except for the breadth of her childbearing hips. Even though she happens to like Canadian food she has found that she has limited herself to what she eats. She claims, ‘…I try not to eat a lot ...’ as she also asserts, ‘...I need to lose ten pounds’. Clearly she finds Canadian foods will pack the pounds with a wallop to her not so diminutive frame. Gabriela does not know what grits is nor has she ever tasted it. However she mentions that there are several variations of cereals in Chile after being briefed on the ingredients and preparation of the dish. Close but no cigar, not grits and quite a poor substitute from this viewpoint.
When venturing away from one’s place of birth or local surroundings, one of the ingredients key to survival is the food. It is a major contributing push or pull factor. Quantity, availability and access are also imperative. Many of the international students here have their personal food preferences. Kimmy, an exchange student from Scandinavia does not like Canadian food. He deems, ‘…it is too fatty’. Kimmy is about 6 ft tall with sandy blonde hair, gorgeous ice blue eyes and creamy alabaster skin. He has a thin, slightly athletic build. He apparently has an aversion to many fried and oil laden dishes that are available for consumption at the cafeterias on campus. In Scandinavia, he devours an assortment of berries, fish and chicken through various modes of preparation. He prefers less of the starch and protein of the typical Canadian diet and would probably like to intake more of the grain similar to the diet of his home. When asked about grits he claims that he has never heard of it but was curious enough to enquire of its nature. After describing the consistency of grits, I found that Kimmy compares it to porridge. He has had porridge many times and in fact maintains that it is served in the Lowenberger dining hall. Upon further investigation his porridge was discovered to be what Bahamians call ‘cream of wheat’. Similar to grits but not quite the same; this hominy, whose grains are just a bit coarser than that which you would find in grits, is ground a tad bit finer. In short it does not constitute the same taste and while served with cream and sugar, grits on the other hand is more often served with butter and salt.
Patty is a minute and shapely African Princess. She is currently in her third year of study at Brock University. In her hair she sports tri-colored micro twists of shoulder length bearing black, brown and reddish hues. She is petite - approximately 5 ft 2 inches and except for the width of her abundant hips, she could be a size zero. She is cocoa coloured and her attractive face bears slight pox marks. She sports a smile, eagerly as she anticipates answering my questions.
“What is Canadian food? Surely not pasta, ‘cause that is Italian…” She also lays burgers at the backdoor of another nation. It is clear from her answers that it is her belief that people stake too much in the novelty of Canadian food.
“…Like what is Canadian food? I know maple syrup is ‘cause it comes from maple trees and maple trees are Canadian right?” Patty claims that she has yet to make contact with food that she can truly call Canadian. One thing that she has noticed about the food in Canada however is that, ‘…they eat a lot of potatoes…’. Patty’s insecurities seem to stem from the precept of definition.
“Canadian food would be food that is unique to Canada right?” Driving her point home she alleges that she has yet to eat food in Canada that cannot be found anywhere else in the world or is indigenous to Canada alone. When asked about her personal palate she asserts “…I eat food from home. I make it.” Initially I had assumed that she referred to the food that she cooked at her home in Tupper. She meant Ghanaian meals such as ‘jollof’ which is a rice dish cooked in tomato sauce, spices and protein of choice - be it beef, chicken or pork. Initially, she is not sure if she has ever eaten grits due to the fact that she has a Bahamian roommate that cooks often. Grits is then described to her.
“Now that you mention it … I have had it, but I like it with cream and sugar…it is white and soft … we eat it hot.”
The quest to find grits brought me to the city of Ottawa in northern Ontario. Here two Bahamian students at Carleton University contend to have found grits. Randi, a toffee coloured young lady with kinky black hair cropping her heart shaped face alleges she accidently discovered it at her local Loeblaws store. She is about 5ft 10 inches tall, with a buxom bosom, flat stomach, narrow waist and expansive yet flat hips attached to endless colt’s legs. She is a sweetheart, often caught with a cross-dimensional, faraway look on her face, a trait associated with the astigmatism that plagues her. She perches at the table next to the window. ‘Loeblaws has grits’ she declared. ‘Yes’, reiterates Nevardo another Bahamian student his 5 ft 7 inch lean muscular frame covered by brown skin, charming and quite striking. The light comes in through the window, exposed due to the fact that the wooden bamboo horizontal blinds are always open. It glints off of his bald angular shaped head. As he moves around the kitchen, complete with appliances, straight out of the early nineties refrigerator, dishwashing machine and stove, full eyes peering out of a serious face meet mine. He stands in front of the sink and washes out a medium sized stainless steel pot. Out of a stained russet cupboard he pulls out a transparent package similar to an elongated Ziploc bag. Covering 70% of the package in a red Arial font bordered with gold it reads Nu-Pak Cornmeal # 120. On the inside is a yellow grainy substance. He places the pot on the beige electric range; the kind that has the heating elements on the top of the stove. In the pot he pours approximately two cups of water, sprinkles a pinch of salt and sets the temperature range between medium and high. He objective is to bring the contents of the pot to a boil. Approximately 5 minutes passes before he cautiously measures out a cup of the cornmeal, pouring it into the pot, stirring sporadically. In goes a dollop of butter and it is covered. Time goes by in a blur as we chit chat getting caught up in the antics of pastimes associated with grits at our Bahamian hearths. Another 5 minutes go by. He stirs the pot again and reduces the heating. In about twenty minutes the yellow cornmeal # 120 is done. It appears my quest has just ended. In Ottawa I surrender to the realization that I will not receive the Quaker variety of hominy that I am accustomed to at home but I have come to the conclusion that Nu-Pak Cornmeal # 120 if cooked just right tastes just like grits.
It is about 10:00 am. The sun shine would be brighter outside if only it were not marred by the grayish clouds that tell of the anticipated precipitation warranted a few hours thus. Inside a second level living room five students sprawl. They face the roof to knee windows that are the soul to the quarry view residence. In the corner is a 32 inch television in which they watched numerous genre’s of DVD’s the night through. The television sits on a table and alongside the Dolby surround sound DVD player. Underneath the table is a silvery karaoke machine that belongs to a housemate of the student who hosts the sleep-over. One student lays abed the hardwood finish loveseat smothered in blankets, along the off-white left wall of the living room that hides the stairway. Another student stretches out on the matching couch blanket awry. Beyond the couch lurks the kitchen counter dirty and piled with the utensils used in conjunction with the previous evening’s activities. Three lie on the floor on green makeshift mattresses with blue, paisley and green plaid blankets strewn all over a warm Aubusson carpet. These are Bahamian students at Brock University and they discuss their individual pursuits since embarking on their educational journeys in this common land. They decide to have breakfast together. One student, new to Canada wants grits.
‘Let’s eat grits’, says Brooke an exchange student from the College of the Bahamas. Brooke is approximately 5 ft, 3 inches tall with butterscotch coloured skin, neck length kinky brown hair askew and amber eyes that mimic the glint of a feral feline’s in her plumb round face. They twinkle full of mischief.
‘What grits?’ Tiffany a Bahamian student that has been at Brock for three and a half years counters. Tiffany has ink black skin, dark brown eyes, almost no breasts that taper into a slender waist and large hips that trail down into legs as thick as tree trunks. She is 6ft tall. Her short kinky black hair is in a state of total disarray as bespells her now nocturnal less state. ‘They do not have grits in Canada sweet girl, either you cross the border into Buffalo or you bring it up on your trips from home’ she abruptly canters.
‘Yes’, chimes Brendon in an effeminate nature. ‘I bought my stock on my last trip to Buffalo.’ He sports a slight Mohawk in his almost bald head. He maintains a slim build, dark coffee skin tone and is 5 ft 10 inches tall. His broad nose is bulbous and bears semblance to Jim Henson’s Muppet “Telly” of the Children’s Television Workshop Series ‘Sesame Street’.
‘It’s true’, chortles Kamara a full-figured diva of size 18. The bulk of her mass lies between her gargantuan breasts and bulky stomach. She also bears wide yet flat hips that narrow into thighs that begin thick but narrow down into muscular legs. She is 5 ft 5 inches tall, with a smooth mocha and an almost flawless skin texture. Her bubbly personality reveals, ‘I haven’t come across any in the two years since I’ve been here.’ Her short black hair is covered with a silky yet ragged stocking cap that boasts of having seen better days. Brooke’s entire full breasted figure tenses at this; the perplexities are written all over her guileless face. Breakfast in Canada is definitely not what Brooke had anticipated and was put on pause as the students further discussed their experiences with food or lack thereof since entering Ontario. There are apparently no grits in Canada I would come to find out. At least not the Quaker variety of hominy that I find both myself and many of my compatriots became accustomed to as we grew up. As I pondered this notion, I wondered what else I would find myself becoming acclimated with as my tenure goes on. I also wondered what other international students had found queer if not outright odd about their sojourn here as far as food choices in this diverse multi-cultural expanse.
Grits is an American delicacy more prevalent among the Southern States. It is a traditional breakfast food whose origins are tied up with the Native American Indians that lived on continental North America previous to its occupation at Plymouth Rock. It is a concoction of coarsely ground up grain, usually corn that is hulled and boiled until soft. I utilized the internet search engine Google for grits and came up with hits from Native American Indians to the Quakers to a Groundwater Information Tracking System to a Christian Rap Group. What was clear however was that the dish itself is a staple to the American South and as American as Apple pie, maybe even as Canadian as Tim Horton’s. It was brought to the Bahamas during the Loyalist period between the late 1700’s and mid 1800’s by the generous palate of both slave owners and slaves alike. Since then it has become a Bahamian breakfast tradition as well as part and parcel of lore conducive to Bahamian cultural cuisine.
As would imagine one main concern and quite along the gamut of human nature is the value of victuals. I took the opportunity to ask a few International students about their incidents with food since coming to Canada. Almost every single person responded differently. Meet Stella. Stella is approximately 5 ft 10 inches tall and weighs possibly two hundred pounds. Her complexion is fair and she can possibly be called mulatto from her obvious mixed heritage. She claims “…my mum is known to have ‘crazy Spanish blood’ and equal temperament”. This she tells to explain her lineage. Her eyes are dark and sheltered by thin rectangular framed Yves Saint Lauren glasses. Her jet black hair is long, curly and thick; streaked with brown highlights it runs almost the entire length of her back. She keeps it pulled back in a tight ponytail that she wraps in an old fashioned bun at the nape of her neck. The top half or her body is full-figured, accented by a very narrow waist that branches off into wide, full hips that undulates along thick thighs and knocked knees that rub together as she walks. She is of a pleasant countenance and never far away from a smile. She made some immediate calculations when queried of Canadian food.
‘They eat a lot of potatoes versus rice.’ This meant to say that in her native country most dishes are served with rice; here they are instead served with potatoes. Stella, a Caribbean International Student that hails from Trinidad claimed, ‘I miss the pholourie’. This is a national dish in Trinidad of fried dumpling created from a batter of split pea flour and spices; it is packaged and served with a sweet chutney sauce made from tamarinds. Pholourie is sold in stores by the box in Trinidad and Stella brought 3 boxes when she came up for school last August. Stella has heard of grits but she has never tasted it and her knowledge of grits are along the lines of what she has either been told by her sister, who is currently a student at University in Texas, or has heard from other international students. What she did know about grits was, ‘It’s an American breakfast dish right? And quite Southern I believe…’. This detail could not be taken for granted because Stella knew about grits even though she had never tasted it and did not come to Canada anticipating having it for breakfast either.
Gabriela, an exchange student from the Catholic University of Chile, on the other hand loves Canadian food, especially the pastries. She makes several trips to the Tim Horton’s in a week and has a particular craving for cinnamon. She claims, ‘I love trying new things and I see similarities to a lot of the dishes from my home’. She is approximately 5 ft 11 inches tall and bears the golden colouring of a Mayan or an Aztec. Gabriela is beautiful and she knows it. She carries a mirror wherever she goes; not often do you find her without one. Her lengthy pitch black hair is littered with split ends due to chemical processing. She has a model’s figure; ample breasts tucked into a minuscule waist and could in fact almost pass for one except for the breadth of her childbearing hips. Even though she happens to like Canadian food she has found that she has limited herself to what she eats. She claims, ‘…I try not to eat a lot ...’ as she also asserts, ‘...I need to lose ten pounds’. Clearly she finds Canadian foods will pack the pounds with a wallop to her not so diminutive frame. Gabriela does not know what grits is nor has she ever tasted it. However she mentions that there are several variations of cereals in Chile after being briefed on the ingredients and preparation of the dish. Close but no cigar, not grits and quite a poor substitute from this viewpoint.
When venturing away from one’s place of birth or local surroundings, one of the ingredients key to survival is the food. It is a major contributing push or pull factor. Quantity, availability and access are also imperative. Many of the international students here have their personal food preferences. Kimmy, an exchange student from Scandinavia does not like Canadian food. He deems, ‘…it is too fatty’. Kimmy is about 6 ft tall with sandy blonde hair, gorgeous ice blue eyes and creamy alabaster skin. He has a thin, slightly athletic build. He apparently has an aversion to many fried and oil laden dishes that are available for consumption at the cafeterias on campus. In Scandinavia, he devours an assortment of berries, fish and chicken through various modes of preparation. He prefers less of the starch and protein of the typical Canadian diet and would probably like to intake more of the grain similar to the diet of his home. When asked about grits he claims that he has never heard of it but was curious enough to enquire of its nature. After describing the consistency of grits, I found that Kimmy compares it to porridge. He has had porridge many times and in fact maintains that it is served in the Lowenberger dining hall. Upon further investigation his porridge was discovered to be what Bahamians call ‘cream of wheat’. Similar to grits but not quite the same; this hominy, whose grains are just a bit coarser than that which you would find in grits, is ground a tad bit finer. In short it does not constitute the same taste and while served with cream and sugar, grits on the other hand is more often served with butter and salt.
Patty is a minute and shapely African Princess. She is currently in her third year of study at Brock University. In her hair she sports tri-colored micro twists of shoulder length bearing black, brown and reddish hues. She is petite - approximately 5 ft 2 inches and except for the width of her abundant hips, she could be a size zero. She is cocoa coloured and her attractive face bears slight pox marks. She sports a smile, eagerly as she anticipates answering my questions.
“What is Canadian food? Surely not pasta, ‘cause that is Italian…” She also lays burgers at the backdoor of another nation. It is clear from her answers that it is her belief that people stake too much in the novelty of Canadian food.
“…Like what is Canadian food? I know maple syrup is ‘cause it comes from maple trees and maple trees are Canadian right?” Patty claims that she has yet to make contact with food that she can truly call Canadian. One thing that she has noticed about the food in Canada however is that, ‘…they eat a lot of potatoes…’. Patty’s insecurities seem to stem from the precept of definition.
“Canadian food would be food that is unique to Canada right?” Driving her point home she alleges that she has yet to eat food in Canada that cannot be found anywhere else in the world or is indigenous to Canada alone. When asked about her personal palate she asserts “…I eat food from home. I make it.” Initially I had assumed that she referred to the food that she cooked at her home in Tupper. She meant Ghanaian meals such as ‘jollof’ which is a rice dish cooked in tomato sauce, spices and protein of choice - be it beef, chicken or pork. Initially, she is not sure if she has ever eaten grits due to the fact that she has a Bahamian roommate that cooks often. Grits is then described to her.
“Now that you mention it … I have had it, but I like it with cream and sugar…it is white and soft … we eat it hot.”
The quest to find grits brought me to the city of Ottawa in northern Ontario. Here two Bahamian students at Carleton University contend to have found grits. Randi, a toffee coloured young lady with kinky black hair cropping her heart shaped face alleges she accidently discovered it at her local Loeblaws store. She is about 5ft 10 inches tall, with a buxom bosom, flat stomach, narrow waist and expansive yet flat hips attached to endless colt’s legs. She is a sweetheart, often caught with a cross-dimensional, faraway look on her face, a trait associated with the astigmatism that plagues her. She perches at the table next to the window. ‘Loeblaws has grits’ she declared. ‘Yes’, reiterates Nevardo another Bahamian student his 5 ft 7 inch lean muscular frame covered by brown skin, charming and quite striking. The light comes in through the window, exposed due to the fact that the wooden bamboo horizontal blinds are always open. It glints off of his bald angular shaped head. As he moves around the kitchen, complete with appliances, straight out of the early nineties refrigerator, dishwashing machine and stove, full eyes peering out of a serious face meet mine. He stands in front of the sink and washes out a medium sized stainless steel pot. Out of a stained russet cupboard he pulls out a transparent package similar to an elongated Ziploc bag. Covering 70% of the package in a red Arial font bordered with gold it reads Nu-Pak Cornmeal # 120. On the inside is a yellow grainy substance. He places the pot on the beige electric range; the kind that has the heating elements on the top of the stove. In the pot he pours approximately two cups of water, sprinkles a pinch of salt and sets the temperature range between medium and high. He objective is to bring the contents of the pot to a boil. Approximately 5 minutes passes before he cautiously measures out a cup of the cornmeal, pouring it into the pot, stirring sporadically. In goes a dollop of butter and it is covered. Time goes by in a blur as we chit chat getting caught up in the antics of pastimes associated with grits at our Bahamian hearths. Another 5 minutes go by. He stirs the pot again and reduces the heating. In about twenty minutes the yellow cornmeal # 120 is done. It appears my quest has just ended. In Ottawa I surrender to the realization that I will not receive the Quaker variety of hominy that I am accustomed to at home but I have come to the conclusion that Nu-Pak Cornmeal # 120 if cooked just right tastes just like grits.
Coiled Spring
It is my belief that spring has finally decided to unfurl its coils. We are well into the second week of April and all the snow has dried up. I mean even the snow that we got during Easter week. I mean like who would have ever thought that it would snow in April right? Obviously someone that has not lived in Canada as I have over the past few months.
What I can honestly say that this entire experience has done for me is create a deeply rooted admiration. Not only am I grateful to have been awarded such a rare opportunity at such a crucial point and time in my life, but I possess an even greater appreciation for and an unfathomable joy in being BAHAMIAN. There are quite a few things that I along with my fellow happy go lucky comrades in citizenship take for granted in our beautiful BAHAMALAND. One of these is the sheer warmth of the country and the usually year round serene weather conditions. I for one can honestly say that this is one faucet that I will not be taking for granted again anytime soon.
In the past three weeks, not only have I witnessed rain, sleet and snow, I have also seen earthworms of numerous shapes and sizes, some as large and thick as twigs come out to soak up the water. Only to freeze to death hours later when the temperature dropped to 0 degrees Celsius. Birds circled around and sang and cawed and danced the spring song. I had seen tiny rodents come out to forage for food only to be holed up again once the snow began again. It was almost as if the world were thrown backwards for those few brief moments in time.
As the time winds down and my imminent departure draws near, I find myself caught up in a kaleidoscope of myriad emotions mirrored through the prism of fate. Anticipation lurks in the form of the excitement that pressures the adrenaline to increase my pulse rate at the very thought of venturing home. Yet, a detached sadness looms nonetheless because of the fact that I am leaving. This vast place has over the past few months become a home to me. A home I must leave and there are no ifs ands or maybes to be accounted for. These feelings uncoil like springs that have been pent up overlong. An attachment has formed as new as a newborn latching on to its mother's nipple for the first time. I have adapted to the ever-changing conditions and walked the straight line of life in Canada and surprise of all surprises - I like it.
What I can honestly say that this entire experience has done for me is create a deeply rooted admiration. Not only am I grateful to have been awarded such a rare opportunity at such a crucial point and time in my life, but I possess an even greater appreciation for and an unfathomable joy in being BAHAMIAN. There are quite a few things that I along with my fellow happy go lucky comrades in citizenship take for granted in our beautiful BAHAMALAND. One of these is the sheer warmth of the country and the usually year round serene weather conditions. I for one can honestly say that this is one faucet that I will not be taking for granted again anytime soon.
In the past three weeks, not only have I witnessed rain, sleet and snow, I have also seen earthworms of numerous shapes and sizes, some as large and thick as twigs come out to soak up the water. Only to freeze to death hours later when the temperature dropped to 0 degrees Celsius. Birds circled around and sang and cawed and danced the spring song. I had seen tiny rodents come out to forage for food only to be holed up again once the snow began again. It was almost as if the world were thrown backwards for those few brief moments in time.
As the time winds down and my imminent departure draws near, I find myself caught up in a kaleidoscope of myriad emotions mirrored through the prism of fate. Anticipation lurks in the form of the excitement that pressures the adrenaline to increase my pulse rate at the very thought of venturing home. Yet, a detached sadness looms nonetheless because of the fact that I am leaving. This vast place has over the past few months become a home to me. A home I must leave and there are no ifs ands or maybes to be accounted for. These feelings uncoil like springs that have been pent up overlong. An attachment has formed as new as a newborn latching on to its mother's nipple for the first time. I have adapted to the ever-changing conditions and walked the straight line of life in Canada and surprise of all surprises - I like it.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Wine & Cheese Reception
On Wednesday the 8th of April, the International Relations Department of Brock University held a wine and cheese reception @ Alphie's an on campus restaurant that was supposedly solely for staff and graduate students.
The decor was quite upscale by Brock standards and may even be considered quite posh. Alphie's sits on a ledge overlooking a steep quarry. The view is breathtakingly panaromic and straight out of a movie. The scene from the deck overlooks a valley hundreds of yards below and in the distance, Lake Gibson, a picturesque and lonely little lake that joins up with Lake Ontario way down the line.
A delicious array of cheese ranging in flavour from swiss to cheddar jack to colby to be consumed with melba, rye crackers and tortilla chips. There were an assortment of cheddar and sour cream dips, quiche, fruit platters and chocolate covered strawberries, not to mention chocolate and cake. Drink selections included Pinot Grigio, Chardonnay, water, iced tea and sodas. This spread was dedicated to the fact that this would be the last time the International Exchange Students of the winter semester would meet in official capacity. Christina and company pulled out all the stops. There was no stone left unturned and it was my opinion that everyone left in good spirits. No pun intended. I even gave a few minutes of my time to a young lady from Finland, who interviewed me for an article that she would write in her home paper about what people from other countries knew about Finnish music (which was absolutely nothing). I was a bit horrified but she assured me that it was okay because hardly anyone knew anything about Finnish music (or at least that was what she told me).
Previous to our departure, John the director of International Relations at Brock University, stopped by our table to graciously give me the last piece of cake as well as mention that he was awaiting a response from Valdez, our international relations liason at COB for the list of upcoming student exchange candidates. He told us that he hoped that we had a good semester and that it was nice having us here. It was truly one of those moments where I wished that I could have stayed longer.
Oh Canada, you grew on me but its homeward bound from here you see!!!!
Monday, April 6, 2009
CULTUREWAVE 2009
The event of the semester has come and gone amid musings of self-regret and excitement. Excitement as the show was awe-inspiring and truly entertaining. Regret because due to my own ignorance I was not allowed the opportunity to take part. As I think back and reflect I vaguely recall Tiffany, one of the first Bahamian females I met here, talking about a culture show that is usually held in February. She asked if I would be interested in participating in a dance. My response was of course, where, what would the routine, comprise of and when would we practice? I was told she would get back to me. Both February and March have come and gone and yet I still anticipate the shrill stoccato of my telephone ringer indicating I have a call (from her at least).
At the end of February I remember asking her about it and being told that 'it was postponed, so they probably won't have it anymore'. Foolishly I left it at that. This is one of those rare occasions where I regret just letting everything go as it was. Why? Because I lost an opportunity to participate in a cultural event not only to illustrate pride in myself, but to demonstrate that latitude of pride to an audience that was not aware of the many faucets of the aspect of being Bahamian. I was morbidly and mortally dissapointed ( and a bit embarrassed if I might add), in the circumspect that of all the Carribbean nations present, I felt that my gold, aqua and black was the only one that was not accounted for. To me that embodied the indifference, dissarray, disregard and non-chalance that I have come to associate with many of the Bahamians that I have encountered upon attending Brock University. I simply refuse to accept this in my mind as I attempt to convey to you the breadth of my inner turmoil.
To make matters worse, the president of the ROOTS is a housemate of A BAHAMIAN!!! Now if that just don't beat all??? I asked the Bahamian housemate why she never volunteered the information to myself or to Brooke, the other exchange student. Her response was that she 'do not have any talent, so I don't bother to go on stage'. As for passing the info on, she didnt think about it. I guess it just was not relative to her as her apathy shone through.
In retrospect, my guess is that there is not so much a lack of pride as a lack of unity among the Bahamian populace here at Brock. Everyone so caught up in their own lives that they let everyone and everything pass them by. Sadder still is the fact that the majority of the Bahamian students here either know each other or have known each other before leaving the island of New Providence, yes New Providence. I am the first student to hail from the Northern Bahamas Campus. Hopefully I will not be the last.
As I retire I once again glance at the outermost cover of the programme for the Culturewave show. I will reiterate for you the words exhibited in vivid colouring:
Think about your Culture. How would you define YOUR culture?
Yourself? Your family? Your community? Your country? Your world?
I was saddened by the circumstances with which I found my emotions raged following my viewing the performances, however I am satisfied to say that it has given me a drive, a grit and determination to showcase my pride.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
ROUNDTABLE
During the 3rd week of March, myself along with numerous Caribbean students on either a GSEP (Graduate Student Exchange Programme) or a CUSEP (Current Undergraduate Student Exchange Programme) were given the option to attend a roundtable discussion in the city of Ottawa, the capital of Ontario. It was to be hosted by DFAIT (Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade) in conjunction with CBIE (Canadian Bureau of International Education). We were to arrive in Ottawa on Sunday the 29th, check into the Lord Elgin Hotel, and begin conference the following morning. Oh and by the way, the hotel as well as meals and transportation were supposed to have been provided and tabbed by the CBIE. Following the conference, there would be tours of the city - museums, Parliament, etc.
Initially, I had misgivings about attending the event as the following Tuesday I was scheduled to have both an exam and a presentation. On the other hand it would give me the opportunity to meet fellow Bahamians on exchange, an opportunity I would not have been presented otherwise should it have been lost. After weighing my options and speaking with my professor, a decision had been made. I consulted with a member of CBIE making arrangements to arrive on Friday and leave Monday evening following the conference. This concluded, I arrived by train the Friday afternoon.
On Sunday evening, I ventured to the hotel where I checked in and met a package with my name at the desk awaiting me. It contained the order of events for the following day as well as a few of the tourists guides for the city. It had been a long day (I attended a local Pentecostal church service earlier, the service began shortly after 11 and ended shortly before 4 - long!!!) and a cracked molar that I had recently acquired was not only plaguing myself with tooth pain but with a headache as well. I fought the urge to take a painkiller and lost shortly after 3 am. Much to my chagrin and the consternation of all those attending the conference - I overslept!!! Totally embarrassing!!! None the less I decided to make the most of it.
At the conference DFAIT, CBIE, International Relations liasons from participating Colleges/ Universities, as well as International Representatives of CARICOM nations all sat down to discuss various methods that could be utilized to maximize the exchange experience. The goal of the roundtable was to discuss the scholarship program, consider other education initiatives in place with the Caribbean, and explore opportunities for collaboration between Canadian and Caribbean institutions. Many travelled from far and wide. I distinctly remember the high secretary (Kendal Belisle) from Belize who sat at my table, she had arrived from Washington, D.C., only that morning. It was unfortunate that she along with many of the reps there had never heard of the programme and as such, did not have any students participating at this time. I would be remiss if I did not say that I believe that all the representatives gathered were looking forward to having students from their own country participate in the near future. What I gathered from the organizers was that our exchange was a sort of pilot programme that was not permanent. One portion of the discussion was whether or not to make the programme a fixture, which I believe was a unanimous decision (though still not as yet decided upon). Of course they discussed ways to improve the programme itself, how to make it more attractive to Caribbean students, technological advances and possibly extending the actual exchange length to possibly two semesters to make it a more viable and realistic situation to those involved. This was because we discovered that around the third month, the students are just adjusting to the changes and by then preparations are being made to return home - and oh yes the "BRAIN DRAIN".
Another segment was committed to improving the experience of the student, possibly ensuring that they contact their various embassies (as many of the leaders were not even aware of the students existence in Canada) and various immigration fiasco's prevented, ensuring that various hardships and expenses that were (by ourselves) incurred along the way are avoided in the next cycle. Funding as in most situations always seems to be a delicate issue.
The climax for me was having our High Commissioner Mike Smith, (whom I had met previously) stand up and assiduously speak about the benefits of exchange programmes and of his own experience and the technological relationship between Canada and the Bahamas today. This was specifically in relation to two different but very pertinent contracts: the laying of fiber optic cables between the archiepelagic islands as well as the reconstruction taking place at the Sir Lynden Pindling airport in New Providence. These contracts awarded to Canadian companies will prove beneficial to both the Canadian companies and the Bahamian people. What proved advantageous and to his credit was the fact that the Bahamian students present outnumbered the other nation's almost 3 to 1. I believe that there were approximately 12 Bahamian students on this exchange programme, 8 of which were present at the roundtable itself - Amad, Amina, Brandon, Brooke, Ken, Poinciana, Shavado and myself.
I wish that I could say the trip ended on a better note but somehow a miscommunication between the taxi and myself resulted in my missing the train on Monday afternoon and CBIE refuses to refund me the costs!!!! But anyhow - Alls well that ends well and I am grateful to the organizers and participants for the experience.
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