Oh, Canada!

I’ve been to Canada exactly twice. Once during the unseasonable heavy snow surrounding Christmas ’08, and once right now, with a departure to Seattle set for after lunch. I’ve been visiting with Alba and Mike and their delightful family, in Surrey, British Columbia, since Friday.

As you can imagine, the trip of a couple of years ago was reduced by the weather into a couple of low key evenings of slow cooked comfort food and board games, with little sightseeing even attempted. The weather has been glorious this trip, and so we got out a few times into Vancouver. The rest of the time was again low key: board games, iPhone/iPad Scrabble, and more good food, although the lighter, summer version of comfort, filled with fresh veg from the garden.

This stopping for a bit was just what I needed. I’d been on the road for 12 days straight, and logged some very long mileage moments. To sit amongst easygoing friends and home cooked food is such a delight after endless chain food moments.

Other than the sightseeing/wandering that Alba and I seem to be good at (all it takes is an interesting neighborhood with a few funky shops and some gelato to keep us occupied for hours), we did do one Real Tourism Thing and go to the Capilano Suspension Bridge. It is a nice little park full of family friendly education and adventure surrounding a bridge across a beautiful canyon. Alba isn’t keen on heights, but decided to not be afraid that day. I’m cool with the heights, but my heart fusses over climbing long inclines, such as those to get up the second half of the bridge. But we made it across, and twice at that (had to come back!)

Before we crossed we spent some time talking to Native American artists that were demonstrating totem carving techniques. Ben Spencer (above) from the Haila tribe, explained the myth of the Beaver and Raven from his tribe’s history, a tale that explains why a certain river has salmon, and the carving he is working on is a beaver from the story. The beaver is identified by the gnawing stick he holds (across the center) and its tail, coming up from the bottom at the front. Ben told how the tribe’s stories are not just written, but chanted, danced, and sung in long ceremonies. He said that when the tribe started trying to capture their stories in writing, the myths started getting lost. He says the written story is such a small part of it all.

How true. I sit here writing of a few great moments of the last couple of days. But if I told you the whole story it would take a while, and would no doubt include enough wild hand gestures that one could accuse me of some type of spazzy dance. .. good thing I have my photos as totems!