Five things I luuuuv aboot winter in the Smoke and one thing I hate aboot winter in the Fax

Let's start with the good:
1. Tears hang upon them. That is the literal translation of eyelashes in Twi, the lingua franca of my Ghanaian peeps. Being an equitorial people, they don't have any words for snow or ice. Too bad, because in Atikokan, Icicles hang upon them. Seriously. Your breath freezes on your eyelashes and then your eyelashes freeze shut when you blink. If you can manage to hold still and not blink for a few seconds before hypothermia sets in, you will be delighted by the frosting on your eyes.

2. Cross country skiing. The Beaten Path Nordic Trails club has let me into their inner circle so to speak (mostly for my own safety . . . or maybe theirs). I joined them for the Sawmill Creek Classic on fantastic loaner skis from the club. Now all I need is a headlamp so I can ski after work, it gets dark fantastically early.




3. Bearded men. There is an abundance of bearded men. Facial hair has not only made a come back, it is triumphant. And I am jealous. I can't even grow a few wispy hairs on my legs let alone a luscious beard. I'd even settle for being part of the revolution to bring back the moo-stache. Why have I become pro-beard? a) Wonderously warm at 20 below, b) wonderously warm at 30 below and c) wonderously warm at 40 below.

4. Plugging in your car. No, it's not some eco friendly wonder car available only in Canada's far north. You need to plug in your car, to say the socket on the outside wall of your house because all houses worth their shingles have outside sockets for this purpose, so that your oil doesn't freeze. Yes, it's soooo cold the oil in your car will freeze and your engine will die a sputtery black smoke death. To prevent this and other catastrophes, all cars come with a personal, electric warmer for the oil. Ingenious!

5. Winter roads. Don't be confused. They are not actually roads: they are rivers and lakes that are frozen solid and people drive on them to get places like say your ice fishing hut or the quincy you dug in the snow in case you wanted to spend the night in the freezing cold. You know, exciting destinations like that.

Now, moving on to the one thing I hate aboot winter in the Fax i.e Hali
1. Whenever it snows or threatens to snow, or rains or threatens to rain, they shut down the airport and I get stranded in Toronto and miss my residency interview Dalh. WaaaWaaawaawaw!

Five things I luuuuv aboot Atikokan

• They only use the last four digits of their phone numbers

• They have their own time zone (I'm not sure weather it is official, but everyone uses Atikokan time anyway)

• There is a canoe decorating practically every street corner (Apparently there is a canoe factory in town, again possibly rural legend but the folksinger from Saskatchewan who sang as part of the Arts series last week in the high school gym seemed to know all aboot it)

• People are intrigued by my exceptional tan for this time of year and ask me if I'm from the one-of-a-handful of African countries that they've heard of either a) on tv or b) because a distant relative once traveled to the aforementioned country. Naturally they are disappointed to hear that I grew up in the place of raging thunder. But I end the conversation on a high by divulging my multiple ancestries. Confusion ensues.

• They have a penchant for statues of large bears. Well, this is more of a regional thing than an Atikokan thing. Quirky and endearing nonetheless.

Smokin' Atikokan

Day 6 in smokin Atikokan and the fun has not let up (nor has the snow.) Where is Atikokan you ask? North of Quetico and a bit west of the Arctic watershed.


Yes, that's the Arctic watershed. So now you have all the coordinates let's run through my week, day by day.

Day 1: Drive to the big smoke. Picture of the Arctic watershed on my brand new digital camera.

Day 2: Tour of the town by the town economic development officer. Highlight of the tour: we got stuck in a snow bank at these remote x-country ski trails and spent the better part of my lifetime trying to push us out / learn to drive standard because I'm not massive enough to push out a car with a 250 lb man in the driver seat. We were finally rescued by a random skidoer who thought the economic development guy had taken me out to this deserted area of the town for hanky panky. NO JOKE!!! That pretty much sums up my first day.

Day 3: Unremarkable.

Day 4: Went curling with the laydeez. The lady from the economic development centre, whom I met after the snowbank incident, said that I should show up at the club on Tuesday or Wednesday night in case a team needs a spare. And I did, I they did! I played a full game, well part 3/4's of a game because we folded because we were losing so badly. But I scored a point! and bonded with the locals. Still can't lift the rock but I sure do know my way around the sheet. All I have to say is curling is a lot harder than it looks.

Day 5: Random muscle ache in my right armpit and left thigh. (Obviously a slow day if that is all I have to report)

Day 6: On call and psyching myself up for race day tomorrow. . .

Afenhyia pa!

Afe nko mmeto yen bio!

Translation:
Greeting: The year greets you! ie Happy new year!
Response: May the year come round to bite you again. ie May you have health in the new year such that you will be alive next year to receive this greeting or best wishes for the new year!

Tucked, tight. Kill the hill!

I recently went cross country with some friends in the Bay o' Thunder. One is a killer down hill skiier, the other a never skiier, and me a Jackrabbits alumna. Fun abounded. The first crash by the never skiier was spectacular. Careening down her first hill at a whopping 1km/h, she became clausterphobic of the tracks and aborted the mission. Skis like chopsticks in a piping hot bowl of tangled noodle legs.

Style points: 10
Crowd applause: 9.5
Recovery: spectacular

The killer down hill skiier was also wierded out by the tracks. Who knew two ruts in the snow could be so threatening? Anyway, she freestyled -a combo of classic and skate - the whole way and snapped pix. Very impressed. Sadly no photographic record of the never skiier crash. Very disappointed.

Style points: 10
Pix: Still waiting . . . Grrrrrr ;)

Rotten little apple core

My macintosh has a rotten core. Or should I say had a rotten core. A few good seeds were successfully extracted from the crunchy inner workings leaving only a facade of wholesome goodness. Needless to say, I was devasted.

When I received the new variety of apple to replace my mac, I hoped to feel like a middle-aged man trading in his faded dumpy wife for the excitement of a sleeker, younger, sexier model. Turns out I'm all hot and bothered by the expensive tastes of my new friend and not so wowed by the prospect of glamming up the reorganization of my world.

20 + 1

No, it's not my birthday, but yes, that would be my age if it were. 20 + 1 signifies the extra day in Boston given to me by Delta Airlines via an "Act of God." Otherwise known as a snowfall in New York city.

It's sad that a snowfall is only considered a godly event when it disrupts air travel. I'd rather attribute the spirtual connection to the wonderous beauty and power of nature. Not as a means for an airline to squeeze you for some extra cash. They don't cover "Acts of God" - how could they possibly intervene on divine will? - only engine trouble.

In spite of this desecration of the divine, miracles still abound: a few extra hours with friends, a chance to relish a final moment in my old apartment, time for pause and a Monday morning to FedEx a bizillion boxes of stuff to Canada. Maybe it was an "Act of God" afterall.