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.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Bittersweet Reality
Last week was one of both supreme joy and utmost sadness for me. Cheerful if not downright great because my sister came up for a visit. In commemoration of her sojourn we decided to rent a vehicle and drive to Ottawa, visiting the acquaintances that we had made there. This worked out quite well and in the favour of all due to the fact that Ottawa was one of the only places in Ontario that still had snow. Coming from the Bahamas she only wanted to see snow, hilarious but quite in character with many of my family members' curiosity about snow. She claims that that was all my five year old niece wanted for her to bring back from Canada for her.
After arriving in Ottawa we discovered that our compatriots were preparing for a cultural fest called Soca versus Reggae and of course we were invited to tag along. Being from the Bahamas we were exposed to both genre's of music. Soca being a Trinidadian art form and Reggae the Jamaican counterpart. The unanimous decision amongst us all was to represent and dress in our aquamarine, gold and black. The irony being our colours stood out more than any other! We represented well!
After leaving Ottawa and arriving back in St. Catharines on Monday evening my sister decided she wanted to see Lady Liberty and so once again we took to the hills and embarked on a six hour drive to NYC. This journey took us through 3 states, Upper New York State, Pennsylvannia and New Jersey. We strolled along Canal Street, bought T shirts and took pictures of the construction at ground zero. Then got lost at Jersey State Park while we got the directions to backtrack our jourey and enjoy Lady Liberty as well. It was a bonding experience long overdue and well enjoyed. This climaxed into the St. Patrick's day holiday for us. We returned the six and a half hour drive back to Canada - 3 of those hours in the pitch dark night and following the most dangerous stretch of the journey. God's grace guided my hands on the wheel, kept me focused and my reflexes coiled and prepared for anything that could have came my way.
Sad but true the following day I was to find out about the death of a first year student due to an aneurism. A young girl no more than 19 years old cut down in her prime. This saddened me, yet at the same time made me grateful. I am here to live and hustle for another day. I am truly blessed and possibly even highly favoured.
The reality of life is bittersweet. You have to take the bitter with the sweet, the yin with the yang, the night with the day and the dark with the light. You live the life you love and learn to appreciate the life you live. Thank God for life!!!
After arriving in Ottawa we discovered that our compatriots were preparing for a cultural fest called Soca versus Reggae and of course we were invited to tag along. Being from the Bahamas we were exposed to both genre's of music. Soca being a Trinidadian art form and Reggae the Jamaican counterpart. The unanimous decision amongst us all was to represent and dress in our aquamarine, gold and black. The irony being our colours stood out more than any other! We represented well!
After leaving Ottawa and arriving back in St. Catharines on Monday evening my sister decided she wanted to see Lady Liberty and so once again we took to the hills and embarked on a six hour drive to NYC. This journey took us through 3 states, Upper New York State, Pennsylvannia and New Jersey. We strolled along Canal Street, bought T shirts and took pictures of the construction at ground zero. Then got lost at Jersey State Park while we got the directions to backtrack our jourey and enjoy Lady Liberty as well. It was a bonding experience long overdue and well enjoyed. This climaxed into the St. Patrick's day holiday for us. We returned the six and a half hour drive back to Canada - 3 of those hours in the pitch dark night and following the most dangerous stretch of the journey. God's grace guided my hands on the wheel, kept me focused and my reflexes coiled and prepared for anything that could have came my way.
Sad but true the following day I was to find out about the death of a first year student due to an aneurism. A young girl no more than 19 years old cut down in her prime. This saddened me, yet at the same time made me grateful. I am here to live and hustle for another day. I am truly blessed and possibly even highly favoured.
The reality of life is bittersweet. You have to take the bitter with the sweet, the yin with the yang, the night with the day and the dark with the light. You live the life you love and learn to appreciate the life you live. Thank God for life!!!
Randoms @ BrockU
Over the past two weeks, I have had many random incidents that are becoming poignant memories for me. For instance, a gentleman outside of the library wearing the sign that said 'Hug me, It's Free'. So I gave him a hug, simply because for one, he looked like he needed one and two, I probably needed one too. Walking alongside me, my companion wailed the laughter so rocked her sides she could not compose herself. She claims to have seen me in a different light on that day and my guess was because it was then that she realized that am that type that typically goes against the grain and I am not really in league with the status quo. "You never cease to amaze me", she claimed. I guess I don't.
My presence here at the school now seems to be one that stands out. My supposition and being right in line with my personality is the fact that I have always been the type of person that stood out. I am not tooting my own horn here. I find many of my classmates will pass me on the bus or in the halls and either say 'hello', acknowledge me with a nod of their heads or start a completely random conversation with me. I do the same. I consider it a sign of respect.
About three weeks ago, friends from Ottawa visited and were totally awed. High on their totem pole of questions was the duration of the time that I had spent at the school, they could not believe that I had only been on campus for about two months because they considered me quite popular. "Everywhere we go this girl knows someone dread!" (Bahamians of course, hence the slang) To my horror (and I found that Brooke would test my knowledge on this one day after such an incident occurred by asking me the name of a classmate) I often could not tell you their names, just that I either had a class or a seminar with them. Sad but true and so out of character for me - maybe the transition in coming from a smaller University? or maybe I can chalk it up to the age factor? I doubt it, there is no excuse for not knowing the names of your fellow classmates except that of being human.
My presence here at the school now seems to be one that stands out. My supposition and being right in line with my personality is the fact that I have always been the type of person that stood out. I am not tooting my own horn here. I find many of my classmates will pass me on the bus or in the halls and either say 'hello', acknowledge me with a nod of their heads or start a completely random conversation with me. I do the same. I consider it a sign of respect.
About three weeks ago, friends from Ottawa visited and were totally awed. High on their totem pole of questions was the duration of the time that I had spent at the school, they could not believe that I had only been on campus for about two months because they considered me quite popular. "Everywhere we go this girl knows someone dread!" (Bahamians of course, hence the slang) To my horror (and I found that Brooke would test my knowledge on this one day after such an incident occurred by asking me the name of a classmate) I often could not tell you their names, just that I either had a class or a seminar with them. Sad but true and so out of character for me - maybe the transition in coming from a smaller University? or maybe I can chalk it up to the age factor? I doubt it, there is no excuse for not knowing the names of your fellow classmates except that of being human.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Devotion @ Brock
I recently had Holy Experiences at Brock University. Yes, Me! Holy experiences. With the dawn of lent I found myself in the little campus church at Rita Welch chamber, just outside of the Sankey Chamber. There was a little Mass conducted and ashes distributed all of which occurred in approximately a half hour long service. Catholicism, I found out is very widely distributed in Canada and may in fact be the major religion. I accompanied the Ash Wednesday service by attending mass the following Sunday evening.
In studying here, I realized that most if not all Catholic Schools in Canada are either eligible for or can acquire some type of support from the Ontario Government. This is much to the consternation of other denominations and some religions such as the Protestant and Muslim faiths have protested the practice as unjust. However I have found out that the Ontario school board does not regulate the schools that they support. That means either you or I can legally come in, open up a school (as long as there is no religious affiliation of course) and take in students with the charade of educating young minds. Canada, like the US, unless the school is funded outside of the government is not allowed to indoctrinate any religion on it's students.
One Catholic school, which shall remain nameless, conduct their religious exploits outside of the school board operational hours, which is either before the start of or following the cessation of the school day. Once you or your child attends a school, especially a catholic school it is done with a certain ambiguity that certain moral code and curriculum be adhered to in addition to the Ontario Curriculum. Having the advantage of Catholic Education for the majority of my pre-tertiary school years, may in fact leave me biased towards all the benefits that a catholic education may entail. What may constitute as a beneficial educational pursuit by me, may indeed be considered indoctrination by others. Canada is an ethnic kaleidescope of people, beliefs and cultures. We must always bear in mind that what is good for the goose is not always good for the gander and we must be mindful of the feelings of others. Respecting others so that we may inturn recieve respect.
In studying here, I realized that most if not all Catholic Schools in Canada are either eligible for or can acquire some type of support from the Ontario Government. This is much to the consternation of other denominations and some religions such as the Protestant and Muslim faiths have protested the practice as unjust. However I have found out that the Ontario school board does not regulate the schools that they support. That means either you or I can legally come in, open up a school (as long as there is no religious affiliation of course) and take in students with the charade of educating young minds. Canada, like the US, unless the school is funded outside of the government is not allowed to indoctrinate any religion on it's students.
One Catholic school, which shall remain nameless, conduct their religious exploits outside of the school board operational hours, which is either before the start of or following the cessation of the school day. Once you or your child attends a school, especially a catholic school it is done with a certain ambiguity that certain moral code and curriculum be adhered to in addition to the Ontario Curriculum. Having the advantage of Catholic Education for the majority of my pre-tertiary school years, may in fact leave me biased towards all the benefits that a catholic education may entail. What may constitute as a beneficial educational pursuit by me, may indeed be considered indoctrination by others. Canada is an ethnic kaleidescope of people, beliefs and cultures. We must always bear in mind that what is good for the goose is not always good for the gander and we must be mindful of the feelings of others. Respecting others so that we may inturn recieve respect.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Reading Week
At Brock University, the spring break is called Reading Week. It begins on a Monday, which is a holiday for the entire province with the remainder of the week off. During the break, some fellow Bahamian students as well as myself decided to visit Ottawa and see the sites as it is the capital of Ontario.
While there some of the highlights of the journey included meeting the Bahamian High Commisioner, Mike Smith as well as his office Staff. We also missed the opportunity of a lifetime - US President Barack Obama who just happened to be 5 minutes away in the market, while we sat at #50 O'Connor street and sipped on refreshments from Starbucks merrily chatting away. We met and formed attachments to students from throughout the Carribbean with promises to return before our sojourn back home.
While there some of the highlights of the journey included meeting the Bahamian High Commisioner, Mike Smith as well as his office Staff. We also missed the opportunity of a lifetime - US President Barack Obama who just happened to be 5 minutes away in the market, while we sat at #50 O'Connor street and sipped on refreshments from Starbucks merrily chatting away. We met and formed attachments to students from throughout the Carribbean with promises to return before our sojourn back home.
I lost my bag with my entire supply of texts and notes for my classes at Brock...yes most disheartening and while I have been in contact with the taxi company they are apparently not to big on the lost and found department if you know what I mean. I have however taken the neccessary procedures in alerting both my professors as well as their assistants and working on alternate routes to ensuring my success in my selected courses. This has been going well for the most part.
Midterms at Brock are unlike any that I have encountered at COB, for one of my courses there are two midterms!!! The others required me to either have written a paper, a few reflections or a group assignment. Right about now is where the drop add comes in handy as far as your grade goes, however none of the professors have posted any grades online as yet so its a catch -22 as far as that is concerned.
Being an international student has given me the opportunity to come into conact and make pleasant aquaintances with fellow studenst from such places as Africa, France, Germany, China and Chile - just to name a few. When they ask me where I am from and I reply 'The Bahamas', they are awed. Responses range from, 'Why did you come to this cold place?' to 'Can you take me back with you?' In the time that I have spent here there is an everyday encounter, no matter how miniscule that either reminds of home or makes me thank the Good Lord that I am a Bahamian and proud. We are blessed and highly favoured!!!
Treading on Thin Ice
Over the past few weeks as the temperatures raised and the snow melted, huge puddles were formed all around. In the evenings when the temperature dropped again, virtual ponds of thin ice were created. There were in parking lots, walkways and all along the paths. I literally treaded going back and forth from residence to campus on a daily basis. Now I know what it means when someone says you are treading on thin ice!!! The next time I hear this statement it will have a renewed meaning for me, simply because I would have accomplished the exact feat.
What I have come to realise however is that it is the dusk before the dawn. The last dredges of winter before the spring and it has just begun to thaw. Hurray for new beginnings!!!
What I have come to realise however is that it is the dusk before the dawn. The last dredges of winter before the spring and it has just begun to thaw. Hurray for new beginnings!!!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
BLACKOUT @ BROCK
While Brock may be famous for its seminar lectures, I am quite sure it is not famous for its power failures. Last Wednesday a power outage in the entire Niagara region and the city of St. Catherine's negated that the University shut down for the day. The power outage sparked as you would guess "CHAOS". It wreaked havoc with the bus schedules, the in and outward traffic at the University itself and the days classes were canceled as of 12:00p.m. While my housemates cheered the fact that there was no school, I was more concerned with how long the power would be off (cause mama began to notice that when the power went off, so did the heating system). I was more than happy some two hours later when power was restored to the area and began to wonder what else the wonderful land of snow may have in store for me.
Today began with us in the trenches of a very lively snowstorm that once again negated the closure of the Universities afternoon classes. While I am not surprised that the school is closed, I am nevertheless disappointed because this is the fourth Wednesday in a row that I have missed a seminar class. If they keep this up I will have missed an entire semester of one particular seminar through no fault of my own of course. I wonder if that will automatically constitute an A grade in this class?
LOL!!! While that remains to be seen, I would be remiss if I do not once again state...I wonder what else is there in store for me during my duration here?
Today began with us in the trenches of a very lively snowstorm that once again negated the closure of the Universities afternoon classes. While I am not surprised that the school is closed, I am nevertheless disappointed because this is the fourth Wednesday in a row that I have missed a seminar class. If they keep this up I will have missed an entire semester of one particular seminar through no fault of my own of course. I wonder if that will automatically constitute an A grade in this class?
LOL!!! While that remains to be seen, I would be remiss if I do not once again state...I wonder what else is there in store for me during my duration here?
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
The Ride
Waking up this morning I had a sense of deja-vu and numerous flashbacks the onset of which, I am not absolutely sure. It could have been the new layer of snow that covered some 3 - 5 inches off the ground, or the fact that for the first time in numerous years, I am not in the vicinity of my sister that is celebrating her birthday today (Happy b-day Meka, I love you!!!).
These flashbacks range from the shopping trip in Miami, the highlight of which occurred when four adults came out of the mall and could not remember where the vehicle was parked (not one - LOL)!! It could also have been my trip to Bimini this Christmas where my two sisters and I re-inhabited my late grandmother's house for the first time in about four years (sniff,tear); or maybe even the kids faces when I left last Friday - there was no sense of wonder or fear. There were like, 'yeah mummy/auntie Koko you'll be back' (oh and my three year old nephew Meko wanted a kiss). The pinnacle of the smorgasboard may have been my attempt to pre-reserve my seating for my flight the night before (a bit last minute, I know) and to be told that my airline reference number had been cancelled - what a hoot!!! Luckily, I emailed Mr. Russell right away and by 9:30 the following morning, Mr. Russell had returned my call and explained that whatever had went wrong was right again. I guess it has been more or less a real roller coaster ride of ups and downs up to the time that I have arrived here in Canada. I am still in the process of getting my classes together and plan to be set by Friday!!! Wish me luck!!!
These flashbacks range from the shopping trip in Miami, the highlight of which occurred when four adults came out of the mall and could not remember where the vehicle was parked (not one - LOL)!! It could also have been my trip to Bimini this Christmas where my two sisters and I re-inhabited my late grandmother's house for the first time in about four years (sniff,tear); or maybe even the kids faces when I left last Friday - there was no sense of wonder or fear. There were like, 'yeah mummy/auntie Koko you'll be back' (oh and my three year old nephew Meko wanted a kiss). The pinnacle of the smorgasboard may have been my attempt to pre-reserve my seating for my flight the night before (a bit last minute, I know) and to be told that my airline reference number had been cancelled - what a hoot!!! Luckily, I emailed Mr. Russell right away and by 9:30 the following morning, Mr. Russell had returned my call and explained that whatever had went wrong was right again. I guess it has been more or less a real roller coaster ride of ups and downs up to the time that I have arrived here in Canada. I am still in the process of getting my classes together and plan to be set by Friday!!! Wish me luck!!!
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