Wrap-up

I was hoping to write more after coming back, but the truth is, having found my friends and family again, I don’t feel the need to write here anymore … except one last time. Just to wrap things up.  So here we go.

French Guiana was not easy. And I was also not the easiest person with whom to work. But I would never change that experience with anything in the world. I have discovered so much about myself, about others, and about ties that unite seemingly different peoples into one family. I’ve seen the power of words, of the Word, and of wordless communication. I’ve seen the devastating effects of illiteracy, and shared the joy of my friends when they discovered that, after months of work, they could string together syllables. I’ve experienced the freedom of washing and bathing in a small creek under the stars, and playing in a dusty field with children until dusk. Sang out loud and not cared if we were in tune or not. Encouraged girls and women that they do have a place in a world dominated by men. Shared prayers for healing, protection, mourning, and growth.
And, for a year … I felt useful.

This is a quote from a letter I wrote to some members of the Local Spiritual Assembly of Ottawa. I find it wraps-up my feelings quite well.

I am now a Master’s student at Université de Montréal, studying film scoring composition. It’s very exciting, and very heavy as far as course load goes (think 3 short videos to score within the span of 6 days, each having between 24h-48h to write them).  Here’s an example:

I have also been reunited with my good violin. He and I have had quite a few adventures already. I have stepped on a stage for the first time today since my return. I’d forgotten how much I love it. Thankfully, I haven’t lost too much of my technique, though my fingers are distinctively slower.

I now live in Montréal in a beautiful large apartment, high ceilings, wooden floors – my room is so big it could fit all of the family at PK-10 where I would stay during the weekends (this is still awkward for me …). Food is cheap. My new roommate is another fiddler – and we are currently fiddling together, and building a studio in our apartment, as she will be also studying in my program in January. We have wonderful neighbours, and there is a small sense of community in this building. There are many trees – we practically live on the top of Mount Royal and can see the whole city from our roof top (because we have access to a rooftop!).

Some have asked me if I had some sort of culture shock coming back: many white people, big cities, different values, different levels of honesty …. I’ve got to say: culture shock has been at minimal level (especially when you consider I flew directly from French Guiana to New York City). I had braced myself for things to have changed back home. And things have. And I was fine with it. (Again, though – I’m still in awe with the luck we had finding this apartment, getting into the film program, and how everything is just so … easy … except when it comes to paperwork.)

I have also somehow transformed into a more initiative, calmer, and flexible person. Not only people tell me – I feel it. I rarely feel rushed or stressed anymore. I spend less – I feel less like I HAVE to buy this and that and ooo that too … Of course I’m still extremely far from perfect, and will always be … but these are good changes.

I have also officially switched from coffee to tea, as tea was more available and affordable than coffee back at the Walker’s house. This may contribute to me being calmer …

I find myself being asked so many times the following: “SO! You were gone in South America! How was it?!?” … and not being able to answer (this, Sarah Windle has also experienced). So many things happen in a year. So many emotions, so many thoughts, so many decisions.  How can I wrap it all neatly into a two-minute answer? I see now that I can’t. So I must sift through many of my experiences and pick out small episodes that may interest some people. Even my new roommate has heard practically nothing.

I’ve reconnected with the Baha’i community of Montréal … I can’t believe how many artists, GOOD artists, there are … I’m now trying to get some artistic projects going: such awesome opportunities! I’m also volunteering at the Shrine of Abdu’l-Baha once a month as a guide, where I get to learn more stories of Him, and get to tell them in turn … (and learn how to make Persian tea … mmmmm, Persian tea …)

I got to communicate with the next Youth Year of Service which will be picking up the projects where we left them in French Guiana. She sounds very competent, and is starting up a blog of her own (http://dugoutcanoe.wordpress.com). Apparently reading this helped her get an idea of how it can be over there. If that is the case, then this blog has served its purpose, and I’m happy about it.

And lastly, today, I just gave my first children’s class in North America. Ever. Who were the kids? … a bunch of jovial kids, many having just arrived from Haiti and Africa this summer (with one little Québecois girl).

And for a moment, while the kids were clibing all over me in the yard … I was transported back in French Guiana.

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If for some strange reason, someone wants to continue reading about my ramblings as I go on with life as a film music student, you can find my thoughts on my other blog, which I’ve also had for a while in French Guiana when I wrote of things that did not involve my experiences there: http://randomivity.wordpress.com

First Differences

So, I’ve changed a bit ever since French Guiana, as I’ve noticed today. Working so closely with children made me prone to associate with them more comfortably.

Today was an easygoing day,  where Sarah and I went to a beach on the Atlantic ocean for the afternoon. I’ve never been on a beach with so many people and parasols in my entire life. Anyway. What do you do at the beach? You can a) swim, b) sun tan, and c) build sand castles. (ok, ok, and d) play volleyball). We swam for 40 minutes, and then there was a general feeling of “now what”?

… let’s build a giant sand sea turtle!

Here’s where it happened. While getting the general shape down, two seven-year-old boys walked up, whispering to each other: “Hey, that looks like a turtle. D’you think it’s a turtle?” – Originally, I may have just ignored them and glorified myself while thinking that, woohoo! It does look like a sea turtle, yay, we’re doing such a good job at building a sand sea turtle!

This time I looked up, said “Yeah, you’re right – it IS a sea turtle! Wanna try making your own?”

“Well, nah – we’re not that good!”

“Nah, look – it’s just a big lump with four legs and a head! It’s pretty easy! Take a big stack’o muck from the water and go from there!”

… and so on and so forth, and the next thing I knew, I spent the remaining three hours with the boys making the turtle, while Sarah had to run away from the sun before burning to a crisp (she has … very … white skin).

I would have never gone that far before going to French Guiana. Sarah and her family even went out for a walk along the beach later on and stopped by to ask me if I wanted to come or if I’d rather “stay here and play”. Before, spending time with kids felt like I had to constantly put on an act, which was tiring. This time? I decided I was having more fun with the kids (sorry Sarah ). So I stayed and played.

Confirmations 101

Some people believe in luck. Others believe in coincidence. Karma. Or even the power of positive thoughts.

Prayers take the cake.

Here’s why.

Friday morning, St-Laurent, French Guiana, 7am: Sarah and I take the little boat across the border to Surinam. All goes well. We hop in a taxi to Paramaribo, leaving at 9am for a 2 hour drive.

Friday morning, Paramaribo, Surinam, 11am: The driver doesn’t recognize the street address we give him and I don’t know how to drive around this city. At all. I just know how the guest house looks like, and have a general feel for where it is. Quick prayer and plea for help. We take a random-ish left turn on my random directions. Hey, that’s the street we’re looking for and HEY! That’s the house too!

Saturday morning, Paramaribo, Surinam, 3:15am: 3am bus shuttle to the airport isn’t showing up. Instead of panicking, a quick prayer and plea for help – hey look, the bus is pulling up!

Saturday morning, Port-of-Spain, Trinidad, 7:20am: WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY 8AM CONNECTING FLIGHT IS CLOSED?!? But I just arrived via Caribbean Airlines from Paramaribo, I had no other choice but to arrive at this time!! (quick internal prayer and major plea for help) Check-in lady finally lets me check in, rushes me through the legal stuff while I chuck luggage in (please don’t lose it this time, please don’t lose it this time …).

… “Closed” flight ended up being delayed instead, giving me 45 extra minutes to go through security and reaching the waiting room in a comfortable time frame.

Saturday afternoon, NYC, JFK airport, 4pm: After waiting over New York City for a storm to pass, I land quite a few hours later. (Had I still kept that connection continuing to Ottawa, I would have missed it – it was leaving at 3:30pm from the OTHER airport in NYC, LaGuardia …) Sarah was on another flight to the same destination as me (the flight was full by the time she bought her own tickets) – and we had no tangible way to inform each other of when and where our delayed and possibly misplaced flights ended up (no, I don’t have a cell phone). Quick prayer for help before landing. Exiting the baggage pick-up, who’s standing right there waiting for me? Sarah.

And all our luggage made it safely too.

Now. I don’t mean to say that you shouldn’t do your best effort to be ready and to do things yourself – on the contrary, I’m a strong believer at being absolutely ready and organized to the best of your abilities. But when things are no longer in control, asking God for inspiration, or a nudge in the right direction, isn’t a bad idea.  … Of course that last one, with Sarah finding me, was no easy task for her. Apparently no one in the airport was helpful, there was a lot of wandering outside the airport involved … but there was one baggage claim clerk that helped her confirm where and when my flight landed, though he let her know it wasn’t his job to do this. Who knows. The confirmation from that prayer perhaps inspired that gentleman to help out anyway, allowing Sarah to find me … (there are more details involved in this one, including wrong flight numbers, landing in Philadelphia, and other such things …)

Last prayer and confirmation I have to share:

July 2007, Israël, Haïfa, the Shrine of Baha’u'llah: Prayer: I’m not sure helping out an English teacher in a private school in Brazil is the right place for me as a Year of Service, though they’ve confirmed it was all good and I was expected t arrive in mid-January. I pray intensively in the Shrine at the threshold of Baha’u'llah’s tomb that my capacities be used at their maximum, wherever that may be.

July 19th, 2007, Ottawa, Canada – less than 24 hours after arriving from my pilgrimage to Haïfa: I receive an email from the private school in Brazil saying they can’t house me, and that I should apply another year, or apply somewhere else for my Year of Service. I glance rather quickly at the list of places that asked for help. Though I’d previously seen the article on French Guiana and had though “Ack! No way! I don’t want to go live in villages, I know I can’t do it!”, this time I though “Well, I speak French, and there’s a lack of French-speaking people to help around the international Baha’i community as I’ve learned while in Haïfa …” An hour and a couple of emails later, the Canadian pioneer committee received the new list of countries I’d picked as destinations, immediately contacted Jackie in French Guiana (yep, this committee’s all about effective action, let me tell you that …!), and she contacted me back asap with thorough info concerning the country and the status of the community there. (Still in that same hour.)

No other country replied.

I went to French Guiana.

When praying, I had in the back of my mind that my capacities were mainly music – forgetting that speaking French was a capacity, and teaching how to practice a language like you practice music, being patient (to a certain degree), and other such things that I can do but didn’t realize could be useful … discovering abilities and capacities that I didn’t knew I had also happened …

Man, were my capacities stretched to the limit.

But again – my prayers had been answered.

A Last Shot at Imagery

The Twingo on Bob and Jackie's land, Wagi-Pasi, a very hilly place with a little cliff there on the bottom. (Most stressful driveway. Ever.)

How babies are carried in general. 1) Piece of cloth 2) stick baby on back 3) sling baby on back - and voilà.

Claire and Jackie on drums. Cutest little girls in Wagi-Pasi.

Philip getting his hair braided one last time. (Two great expressions there, guys ... Romaika:"What the heck?" - Philip:"SmileOUCH!")

A dragonfruit (a cactus fruit). Big. Spiky. Hot pink. What more can I say.

It’s So COLD!

And so all us youth staying in French Guiana have returned home safe and soundly (some with a little more delay than others … Philip got stuck in Jamaica for a couple of days and had a blast there …).

I would like to be able to make a statement, a resume of the whole trip, to be able to articulate how I feel about returning on North American soil … but I feel like I’m still too close to the deed, and I can’t “look back” yet – it’ll take me a few weeks to settle in and then start noticing cultural differences and to see what I have really learned and how I’ve really changed, if at all (one hopes so …!).

But the first thing I’m noticing right now is that my feet are cold. COLD! Everyone in New York and Delaware are trying to make Sarah and I comfortable (and I feel spoiled rotten), and one of these comforts is to assure us a nice cool room because apparently it’s pretty hot right now … and while everyone else is fanning themselves and hiding from the sun, here I am feeling comfortable, bordering cold. I guess it really was hot in French Guiana.

Ramble ramble ramble.

Yet again – T-minus 7 hours and counting (that is, for the pirogue-bus trip – then plane trip the next day).

This past week has been very, very productive, as far as typing, creating, fixing, visiting, and packing goes. If it’s worth discussing, I’ll have to decide later – the computer’s now going in its bag.

Here’s to hoping the luggage doesn’t get lost again.

Another Lesson, Another Victory …

I usually don’t post videos as the official post itself, but this I must do.

It is fixed. And I can play on it. I have learned how to reglue a viola neck on its body, fill in potentially annoying cracks, sand down pegs for a good fit, and drill holes in the pegs for the strings.

And Bob and I had fun doing it.

Like a Mack Truck (or “Full Circle”) …

So it hit me a few days ago that I was really leaving for good. A friend recently contacted me bout traveling plans, and while searching through festival events in New York and Montréal, and train and plane tickets, I thought, “Hey, that plane ticket is dated for in … two weeks?!?”

If I can count the days and they’re numbered under 20, then that’s a shocker to me. So it hit me, then and there. Like a Mack truck. Optimus Prime size, actually.

I’ve been on my toes ever since, trying to finish up as much of the French curriculum as possible, coordinating a long-distance lease with a future roommate, and checking out my possible class schedule for my Master’s degree in September 2008.

Needless to say, my head’s a little foggy as to what will be my reality in two weeks.

How about treating it as an adventure. I think that’ll work.

(Note: see related post here)

Saying Goodbye, Part I

I’ve had to say goodbye to many people already, since a lot of families are leaving on vacation.

Yesterday I had to say goodbye to Irène in PK-10. She’s the one that, from the beginning, would help me out, explain things that the kids would like, and with whom I could just hang out. She tried (TRIED) to teach me to dance (I’m almost hopeless – but Sarah and I got some butt-wiggling success last Saturday), and I could be just plain silly with her, and we would be comfortable with it. In short, she was my best friend down here, despite the age difference.

So saying we were a little sad while saying goodbye would be an understatement.

I did get the year’s tightest hug from her, explained to her how to mail letters (she’d never bothered before, and never had a reason to until now), and we’ve promised to write. Which I’m looking forward to – in this day and age of Internet, it’s rare to find someone who’s only mode of long-distance communication is letters. That means printing out pictures I want to share, making little packages … I’m going to enjoy this.

And in French, there are two ways of saying goodbye. There’s “au revoir” (implying we’ll see each other again), and “adieu” (implying the next time we’ll see each other is when we’re near God, meaning dead). She said “adieu” – I answered “au revoir”. I insist on coming back. We’re aware that it’ll be years before I finish my studies and find funding to come again, but I’m dead set on coming back (hopefully for another project – most probably a shorter-term one: a month, three months, depending on what it is). You can’t live in a place like this, grow roots, and never come back.

So in the end, she switched to “au revoir”. And she believed it. So do I.

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Random little things of the day:

Walking barefoot in the living room today, I was going to ask Bob if we should glue the violins today (see previous post). Here’s how I asked it while walking. “Bob – I had a question. Do you think we could … get … rid of this snake in the living room?”

Indeed, I was about to step on a two-foot snake.

Ten minutes later, after snake-catching and a neat little zoology lesson from Bob, I finally asked to glue the violins.

We also had fried pineapples today. Yum.

Hide Glue

In mid-December, I’ve mentioned that my viola’s neck unglued. Since then, I got hold of another violin while waiting for violin-fixing materials to arrive. Though they’ve arrived safely about over six months ago, we haven’t taken the time to fix the viola.

A month ago, unfortunately, the second violin, which at the time was being the center of attention at a pre-youth party, got dropped – and the scroll broke off. (Way to go MC – my violin braking record is increasing at an alarming rate …)

Seeing this instrument was not mine, I was adamant at getting it fixed before I left.

So today, we took out the violin glue, the clamps, the foam, and any other tools we thought were useful, and adventured ourselves into the world of violin-making. Meanwhile, Sarah went picture-happy.

(click for more pictures)