Weekend 3 - Buzzing Off

Friday night and it was time to meet up with my friend Lorenz, for our once every 2-3 month catch up. Each time we've go somewhere new as part of our exploration of Toronto. This week I chose Panorama, on the 51st floor of the Manulife Centre building on Bay and Bloor. It was an overcast day so the view was a little muggy, but I was still impressed with the vista that looked south towards downtown and the lake. It somewhat reminded me of the view of Manhattan from the Empire State, but this was cosier and closer (and we were sitting and sipping cocktails, so this was far more preferrable). I could imagine myself coming up here all the time. Like Loft in Sydney on King Street Wharf, sitting on deep, leather couches on the balcony on a sunny Sunday afternoon overlooking the boats in Cockle Bay. So it was strange to see this great bar practically empty on a Friday afternoon. Lorenz and I were literally the only two people that saw the afternoon "crowd" (I used the term very loosely) leave and the night time crowd come in. By the time we'd left, most seats were taken, including seats at the bar, but no where near capacity as you'd expect. So so different from a Friday afterwork drinks in London, or Sydney... Ahhh only 2.5 weeks till I leave so excited!!!


L: The view of downtown; M: the balcony; R: I sneaked a pic of a couple on the balcony overlooking the view of downtown.

This weekend was also Sachi's leaving weekend. She and I met at Second Cup, and through her I've met a bunch of great people. We have a Saturday thing ie, we usually meet up on Saturday night for a home-cooked dinner and drinks. Finally the weather has improved that we could have it out on the patio. Toronto is ALL about patios.

We will miss you Sachi, see you in Japan hopefully!

L: Sachi's friend Ai, M: Dave and Nicole; R: Sachi!!!

L: Sachi's boyfriend Dom; M: Dan and Miki 1; R: Miki 2 and Neil. These photos taken by Dave.

Weekend 4 - A Nibble of the Big Apple

Clockwise from top left: NY sirloin steak sandwich; Guggenheim Museum; NW view from the Empire State Building; exhibit at the Guggenheim; Tom's Restaurant, the diner from Seinfeld; breakfast at Tom's; Time Square; Statue of Liberty; view of Central Park from the Empire State Building.

Clockwise from top left: Empire State Building foyer; view of Lower Manhattan from the Empire State Building; Steve and the Statue of Liberty; Chrysler Building; 7th Avenue street fair; Statue of Liberty; me on street corner; Guggenheim Museum; me eating.

Manhattan, the heart of New York. Yellow cabs, 5th Aveue, hot dog vendors. I heart New York memorabillia of all descriptions. It's a city that only New Yorkers know. As a weekend tourist, you only get a hint of the good life.

I see the similarities and differences between New York and London. I also see the similarities between New York and Toronto believe it or not. It's a North American thang. Despite being known for being brash, New York has also a (disingenously?) sweet demeanour. London does not. Toronto has.

I could live in New York I think. It's full of people from everywhere. But probably all have been Americanised. It is after all, the hardest country to get into. You're gonna really want to be here, to be here. So even if it's more liberal than middle America, it's still got blinkers on to a certain degree.

New York bigs itself up. In movies and on TV. Makes itself known as the place to be, a source of energy and life. They do a good job of it cause I'm still drawn to that image. Three days in New York did not satiate my curiosity, but I can live with it. Maybe I'll visit her again one day. One day, far far away.

Sigh

This is a beautiful song. I'm dedicating it to all of my friends and especially to those who've recently announced their engagements.

This Never Happened Before
Paul McCartney

I'm very sure, this never happened to me before
I met you and now I'm sure
This never happened before

Now I see, this is the way it's supposed to be
I met you and now I see
This is the way it should be

This is the way it should be, for lovers
They shouldn't go it alone
It's not so good when you're on your own

So come to me, now we can be what we want to be
I love you and now I see
This is the way it should be
This is the way it should be

This is the way it should be, for lovers
They shouldn't go it alone
It's not so good when you're on your own

I'm very sure, this never happened to me before
I met you and now I'm sure
This never happened before (This never happened before)
This never happened before (This never happened before)
This never happened before (This never happened before)
This never happened before


View a video tribute of the movie I first heard it on, The Lake House:


Click on this link for the video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1w-T6LiiReA

Catharsis

I feel like I'm drowning today. Water has seeped into my ears and dulled the sounds around me making them far, far away. I feel removed from everything at the moment like I'm in my own bubble. People glide around me, they see me and say hello but I respond in muted tones. Not sure if they recognise my lack of enthusiasm. Maybe they don't, maybe they do. Maybe they do and they don't care. I don't care.

The days in the office drag. I shuffle paper. Not in any kind of significant way but rather in the mind-numbing, soul-debilitating way. I have lost my humanity to the papers. A co-worker here (a women faded in years, with superlative self-importance) dictates the most menial, laboriously fickle and inane instructions in the handling of said papers. Don't forget to wipe the photocopier first to rid that speck of dust (that one tiny speck n one sees but her because she has nothing else to occupy her mind with except that speck, her foot problem and her next cigarette break).

There is a greater world out there, one that is full of adventure and joy and unknown fears and bounty, not collapsable because it is so full of life and energy. Of fascinating people and history and culture. A friend is preparing to stage her second play; another is back packing through South American countries encountering live volcanoes; another won a green card in the US lottery and for the past year has provided numerous documents and sustained months of agonising wait to finally be told he is allowed to enter the most heavily guarded country in the world, to begin a life that millions dream, to have a chance at a life not afforded to citizens of his country of birth, to encounter possible hardships in adapting to a new country but also the possible rewards from affecting real grit and determination.

Take that into perspective and look at yourself, lady.

I need to get outta here.

Weekend 5 - Flowers for Zoe

Factoids
During the Second World War, the Dutch Royal Family escaped occupied Netherlands to the safe haven of Canada where they were hosted for three years. Whilst there, Queen Juliana gave birth to Princess Margariet at the Ottawa Civic Hospital. The maternity ward was temporarily conceeded as Dutch soil so the princess could claim her birth had taken place on homeland. On 5th May, 1945 the Netherlands was liberated by a largely Canadian armed forces. In gratitude of Canada's valiant efforts and hospitality Queen Juliana sent a gift 100,000 tulip bulbs to Canada. The next year she sent 20,500 more requesting a display to be created for the hospital. Every year since then a further 10,000 bulbs has been sent.

This was the beginning of a bond between the two nations and also the beginning of the Ottawa Tulip Festival, the largest of its kind in the world which officially came into existence in 1953.

L: Tulips named for the Liberation; M: National War Memorial; R: Amar, Jesus and Ernest.

This year's festival opened on 4th May and will last until 21st May. Aside from the usual displays at Parliament Hill, Dow's Lake and Major's Hill Park, one of the highlights of the festival this year is International Pavillion, offering culture, entertainment and food from participating embassies and community groups.

Formalities Over
Weekend 5 started at 5:20am on Saturday morning. Ernest and Amar and Jesus picked me up at 6:15am and we were on our way to Ottawa. A McDonald's breakfast and three Tim Horton's stops later we'd arrived. It was a sunny but chilly Spring day and our first stop by Dow's Lake was the portaloos. We strolled along the lake where tulips were planted though it was patchy in display. No comparison to the tulips at Keukenhoff. What became our focus was probably the number of babies and toddlers on display as well as the dogs and an acute sense of the amount of French that was spoken around us. Quebec was only a hop skip and a jump away.

L: Amar and I at the Festival; Giant tulip sculptures; tulips.

When one visits Ottawa, one simply must see Byward Market. With its fresh fruit, flower, jewellery, vegetable stalls it was like being back in some European city. Ah memories. The one thing Ernest made me eat was Beavertail. I didn't argue cause I'm all about eating. I ordered one with banana and chocolate. Now before you all go nuts it was just a flat piece of beaver-tail shaped dough, deep fried with toppings on top. Sheesh.

Clockwise from Top Left: Fiddleheads, a kind of fern that cooks and tastes like asparagus, apparently; deliciously sweet berries; Beavertail stall; wild garlic.

Parliament Hill is a grand sight. Set back behind a large green square, you get to take in the the width and height of the Centre Block. Attached to the back of it is the Library of Parliament. Behind Parliament Hill you get a great view of the Rideau Canal and Quebec on the other side. It's surreal how once you cross the bridge every sign you see is in French; it really feels like you've entered another country even though it's the same. It's like we left Springfield and gone into Shelbyville.

Clockwise from Top Left: Parliament Hill Centre Block by day; Ernest and Amar enjoying the view; Library of Parliament; me touching Spidey outside the National Art Gallery; Rideau Canal and Quebec in the distance; Parliament Hill Centre Block by night.

After a dinner of Indian buffet, owned by a man who was so eager to succeed in his two month old restaurant business that he would be almost on top of us to refill our water after every sip, our little party of four contemplated our next move. We've seen the tulips, we've seen the canal. We took in Parliament Hill and a few embassies (and learnt the difference between embassies and high commissions). Ottawa was a few dollars richer with our passing. What was left to do? It was about 9:30pm when we started our journey back to the big metropolis that is Toronto, the one that is filled with more life, more excitement, more action. The one that is home for only another 4 weeks. Will my departure be bittersweet at that time, or will I be brimming with joy as I once thought I would? Something tells me there's a change in the air, that I won't forget Toronto in a hurry for in-almost-hindsight, she'd thrown me a curveball and gave me much to think about - fate, being one of them.

Tisane-ity

Sipping my Cocoa Spice Yogi Tea yesterday and looked at the packaging. It said this tea "awakens bygone memories of festivity and joy that linger warmly in our minds".

What the what?

Weekend 6.1 - Deep Thoughts

I was watching a program over the weekend about advocacy journalism and whether it is journalism at all. Journalism should be, by definition, a fair and balanced presentation of the facts. Can journalist inject their coverage with personal comments? One journalist seemed to think so in this program. He claims no journalism is without advocacy, unless that journalist is devoid of his humanity. Controvesial claim?

But I say, if you want to inform AND persuade AND emote your audience into some kind of action, your role as a journalist has ceased and you become a advocate. Fear-mongering, which is so prevalent in North American journalism has become the norm. This does not mean it is right. Editing of facts and subsequent presentation often puts a new spin on the truth and this does not mean it is right either, simply because it is done.

We all know how much the media is capable of distorting the truth to sensationalise and gain higher readership or viewing audience. Advocacy journalism may be in good intent, but you cannot contribute to a good cause once it has been mired with journalist techniques of those who simply wish to bump up their numbers.

Become a true advocate and speak as an informed individual and not in the guise of a newspaper hack.

Weekend 7 - But Before That...

Weekend 7 was actually just more Hot Docs viewing, though Sunday Zanaida and I were 10 mins late for a film, couldn't work out what it was about and couldn't read the subtitles that were white on mostly pale background so we left half an hour into it. We weren't the first to leave that screening. So it was off to Mexican restaurant El Trompo (featured on tv show Street Eats) to console ourselves in Kensington Market. The sun was shining and the conversation flowed till late afternoon. Nice...

But before the weekend, it was late Wednesday afternoon when my HR manager asked if I could go down to our London office the next day to help out. Before you get too excited, we're talking London, ONTARIO. A two hour train ride away. I was happy to be out of the office to go travelling all expenses paid.

London, Ontario unfortunately isn't the most exciting place on earth. It was grey when I'd arrived, it was very busy at the office and I got to the hotel too exhausted to eat properly. I went out for a walk but I was not anywhere close to downtown, just flattness and vasttness and urban sprawl and mammoth Walmart adjacent to car park adjacent to Loblaws adjacent to car park et al. It was all a little depressing really. That night I got a little homesick for my Toronto place. Me, who loves to travel on her own, got homesick just one night away... how silly is that! Got back on Friday afternoon and had drinks with Steve later that night. I had a few too many and told him I loved him! Did I mean it? Of course I did.


The dreariness of London.

The heaven that was my king size bed.

Hot Docs Festival

One of Toronto's fastest emerging film festival is Hot Docs, which is also the largest documentary film festival in North America. I was very happy to see this year's program featured a Spotlight on Central and Eastern Europe, considering I had just travelled through there prior to coming to Toronto.

The film that really got me thinking about my travels was Never Been Better. The filmaker, a Bosnian, fled the war in 1995 to the Czech Republic. Ten years later she was allowed to apply for a Czech passport, and this started her thinking about her identity so she wanted to revisit the region to answer her personal questions. She took two weeks to drive through Bosnia & Herzegovina, Serbia & Montenegro and Croatia, the three countries involved in the war and interviewed people of the three dominant faiths in this area: Orthodox Christians, Muslims and Catholics.

I found the same tension that she spoke of in the film, but I also felt so much more was missing. The Q&A session afterwards however revealed her intention of keeping the story to just those two weeks, ending on the final day when she received her Czech citizenship. This was a highly personal film and I was glad it made me re-examine what I've learnt about this volatile region and what my experience there meant to me. I hope to visit Central Europe again one day.

In Memoriam Alexander Litvinenko was the film that left the greatest impression on me out of all the films I saw. It is the story of murdered Russian secret service agent Alexander Litvinenko, who died of polonium poisoning in London, November of last year.

In 2004, two years before his death, Litvinenko was already being interviewed by filmmaker Jos de Putter. Litvinenko spoke of his time with the secret service the FSB, formerly the KGB, and how he became a persecuted man when he became disillioned with the organisation's activities. During an incredible episode of this period, Litvinenko was charged and trialled for crimes the FSB alleged he committed.

The courthouse on that final day was crammed with media and film cameras as Litvinenko's denoucement of the Putin government was powerful. He had evidence indicting many supposed terrorist acts by Chechen separatists were in fact FSB orchestrations to push and keep Putin in power; in one campaign in 1999, over 300 innocent civilians were killed. As the judge gave the not guilty verdict, however, the cameras captured a most absurb turn of events. Instead of walking away a free and innocent man, a band of masked FSB men with guns stormed the courtroom, apprehended Litvinenko and locked him away for two months. The media and public watched in shock. The courts had no power.

When Litvinenko was released, he continued with his work on exposing the unlawful acts of the Putin government. He believed journalist Anna Polikovskaya was murdered because she too spoke out against the government. Eventually Litvinenko and his family had to leave Russia for the safety of Britain.

The day he received his British passport was one of the happiest said his father, that he was proud of being an Englishman.

Two months before his death, the Russian government had passed a law that allowed it to pursue its targets at home, and abroad.

Unimaginable, or one would think.