Today in history...

Being a history buff, April 30 has always stuck in my mind as the day Adolph Hitler and Eva Braun commit suicide together. It was also the day the Vietnam War officially ended. Curious, I poked around a bit to see what else happened today, and was rewarded with a long list of interesting facts. I hope you enjoy, because they were fun to research!

1999 – Chandra Levy, former intern to California Congressman Gary Conduit, was last seen in Washington. (Her body was discovered 13 months later in a park.)

1997 – Ellen DeGeneres’s character comes out of the closet on the sitcom Ellen.

1992 – The last episode of the Cosby Show aired.

1991 – A tropical cyclone hit Bangladesh; roughly 138,000 people were killed.

1983 – Michael Jackson's song "Beat It" was number one on the Billboard music chart.

1983 – Muddy Waters – an American musician – died.

1975 – The Vietnam War officially ended with the unconditional surrender of South Vietnamese president Duong Van Minh.

1945 – Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun commit suicide together in Hitler`s bunker in Berlin after being married for less than a day.

1939 – The 1939 New York World's Fair opened.

1883 – Edouard Manet – a painter – died.

1803 – The Louisiana Purchase transaction took place. (The USA purchased the territory of Louisiana from France for $15 million, which doubled the size of the US. It was also waaayyyy underpriced, if you ask me!)

1789 – George Washington took the oath to become the first elected President of the United States in New York City.

1662 – Mary II of England was born.

1492 – Spain gave Christopher Columbus his commission of exploration.

Bus etiquette for dummies (myself included)

Riding the bus is one of those things. I'm not sure what "thing" I'm even referring to, but riding the bus definitely qualifies. Sometimes it can be fun; other times it's a frustration. There are interesting people to talk to, and there are strange, quirky, or straight up frightening people that one attempts to avoid like the plague. I have become acquainted with all of the above, and feel like a better person for it. The one aspect of riding the bus that I still can't figure out, however, is when it is appropriate to offer my seat to someone else.

Exhibit A: The angry lady
I was taking the bus to school yesterday, and it was absolutely packed. Standing room was non-existent, and I was basically sitting in the lap of a gentleman with far to many shopping bags. As the bus made it's way down Pembina Highway, the crowd thinned out significantly. I was able to snag a seat, and did so without reservation.

A cute little senior citizen got on the bus at the next stop. As she made her way down the aisle, no one offered to give her a seat. Without really thinking about it, I jumped up, moved out of the way, and informed her there was a space available for her to sit. I then started walking towards the back of the bus where it was easier to stand.

"Hey!" I jumped. The cute little woman actually YELLED to get my attention. I turned around.

"Yes?"

"Are you calling me old?"

"I'm sorry?"

"OLD. You gave me your seat. You think I can't stand?" I didn't know what to say. My face was burning and everyone was staring at me. I was NOT calling her old, but in all honesty she IS much OLDER than I am. I thought I was being polite. Guess not.

I apologized to the woman who, I must point out, SAT IN THE SEAT I had vacated while still muttering under her breath about how rude the youth of today are. I tried to make myself invisible at the back of the bus, but everyone saw what happened. I made a very thorough ass of myself, and I thought I was simply following proper bus procedure.

Exhibit B: The Fake out
This was a few weeks ago, but I was hoping there would be an opportunity to write about it. Same bus, different time of day, still busy, and nowhere to sit. A woman with a very large stroller got on at a crowded stop. There was a blanket draped over the stroller, so I assumed her child was sleeping underneath. Roughly eight or nine people - myself included - moved out of the way so she could flip up one of the priority seats and stow her child properly. She didn't say "thank-you," and didn't even acknowledge the fact that many people moved so she could secure the stroller. I was basically sitting on someone's lap (again), but could still see what the woman was doing. She circled the stroller, lifted up the blanket, and proceeded to re-arrange her groceries. There was no child... The stroller was her shopping cart.

Now, this wouldn't normally bother me, but there were two things that made the situation worse...

1) The stroller was huge, and I mean HUGE. Two children could easily fit in that thing. Hell, I could fit in that thing.

2) When the woman wanted to exit the bus, she glared at everyone in her way and hollered "lady with a baby" to get people moving faster. I knew she didn't have a baby. SHE knew she didn't have a baby. It was just an excuse to get what she wanted faster. Ugh.

Both of the above examples are meant to illustrate my point that it is absolutely impossible to know for sure if one is doing the right thing when moving and offering their seat on a bus to someone else. The recipient - as far as I have seen - is gracious and appreciative most of the time, but my two recent incidents have made me wonder about the system as a whole. Should I stay put the next time a cute senior gets on the bus? That's someone's grandma, you know. Or, should I stare at every stroller and wonder if there really is a child in there? I don't have any answers, but I do know that I have a long summer of public transportation ahead of me. If I figure out what the proper procedure is, I'll be sure you let you know.

The Classic Novel Files: 1984

This very famous novel became even more famous in the 1984 Apple commercial played during the SuperBowl. The thought of “Big Brother” watching our every movement is terrifying, and the only thing more terrifying is that Orwell, in 1948, believed it would actually happen. We are currently living in a time of GPS and satellite tracking, and while there aren’t cameras in homes yet, Orwell wasn’t too far off with his predictions of what was to come.

The novel is about a man named Winston Smith, who is 39-years-old and lives alone in London. His job (which was provided to him by the government) is to re-write newspapers and erase parts of past history that have changed. Cameras are absolutely everywhere, and large pictures of the leader, Big Brother, paint almost every wall. The Thought Police patrol everything, and thinking a single negative thought about Big Brother is enough to be punished by death. People spy on each other, and the only time a person is free is when they are asleep. Sounds like a pretty scary world, and not one many people would like to live in.

Most people are forced to read this book in high school, along with other Orwell classics such as Animal Farm. The first time around, 1984 wasn’t very impressive to me. I felt the first part of the book was far too long-winded, and Orwell was over-emphasizing the point that people do not have freedom. This time around I enjoyed it, and was able to better understand the concepts. I hope Orwell wasn’t on to something, and I pray I will never see the day when anyone in the government can easily watch me getting dressed in the morning without my being aware of it.

My Summer Project

Many of my classmates are currently searching for jobs, setting up vacations, and trying to figure out how they will stay busy this summer. Not me. I have worked every single summer (and winter, for that matter) since I was fourteen, and I have decided that I deserve a break.

I have always wanted to be a writer, and thanks to my fantastic school program, I feel that I am actually beginning to become one. But writing takes a great deal of time, effort, energy, and concentration that I was simply unable to supply this past year while completing school assignments and trying to hold onto my sanity. The summer is a perfect time to channel one’s inner creativity. Therefore, I have decided to take the summer off work and simply write.

An interesting idea, I know, and many people will probably criticize me for it throughout the summer. Others may assume this is just an elaborate scheme to be lazy for four months. But I assure the criticizers and the assumers that I will actually be doing something with my time. There is a huge literary world out there, and it’s full of magazines, newspapers and journals that want my stuff but just don’t know it yet. It takes a great deal of time to write a piece, edit it, and submit it for possible publication. It usually takes a year to get a rejection letter. So, by initiating the process and actually getting myself out there this summer, I’m proving to myself and everyone else that this is actually something I want to do. I might get rejected by every single publication, but the point of this project is simply to try. I don’t want to look back in thirty years and wonder “what if I had actually TRIED to be a writer that summer?”

I have also decided that my blog will be changing its name. The Daily Hope was great – don’t get me wrong – and we had amazing times together throughout the year. As I have been posting more frequently, however, something has occurred to me. My blog is literally a collection of different entries. I have main categories, including travel, Manitoba, and news, but I talk about so many different things every week. Therefore, the new name of my blog will be The Hope Files. Everything I write is organized on my laptop in a series of labelled, well-kept files, and I’ve realized that my blog follows the same concept. An interested reader can click on any category, and in essence they will be able to read anything in that “file.” Yup, pretty clever, and that just came to me now.

So, the most important step when deciding to undertake any particularly large venture is to create a well-organized plan. I’m not going to organize my time into months, but tasks...

- Submit The Unlikely Companion (short story) to a publication
- Re-work my Remembrance Day article into a story, and submit it to Legion magazine (hopefully in time for the Remembrance Day issue cut off)
- Contact, interview, and write about people involved in historical aspects of Manitoba
- Re-work my travel blog posts so they fit travel story criteria, and submit them to travel publications
- Re-work the poems and songs I wrote while in Europe, and see if I can create anything from them
- Research and start writing my Independent Professional Project for CreComm (I will include more information about that one later, but for now, all you need to know it that it’s a collection of stories about my great-aunt)
- Start writing the many stories that have been floating around in my head for YEARS, and try to publish as many as possible (I would list everything I plan to write about, but you’ll just have to stay tuned to find out!)

Now, just to dispel any worries that anyone STILL might have, I should also point out that I will be doing THINGS this summer. I am taking a class from May-July at school, and I will also be working for The Great Canadian Talk Show, a radio program on 92.9 Kick FM (which airs from 4 – 5:30 p.m. Monday through Friday). There is the possibility of a part-time summer job, but that will only happen if I feel like I have way too much time on my hands. I am also going to Chicago on a school trip, and Jeff and I are hoping to go to New York City later this summer.

So there it is... I've laid it all out, and can’t take it back. I will spend my summer running around Winnipeg looking for inspiration, laptop in one hand and coffee cup in the other. It`s really anyone’s guess what will happen, but I would stay tuned if I were you. This is going to get interesting...

My 100th blog!

I was going to something special, considering this is my 100th blog post, but i've decided to finish off the year with another travel blog. This summer, I will be blogging frequently, so stay tuned...

I only spent one day in Munich, so this blog entry will be quite short.

We were dropped off at Marienplatz, the main square, early in the morning. The main attraction – and our reason for stopping there – was the Glockenspeil clock on the tower of New Town Hall. It is the 4th largest cuckoo clock in the world, and it goes off at 11 a.m., noon, and five p.m. daily. It has 43 bells, just in case you were curious.

We wandered around and took some pictures before the clock went off, but didn’t have enough time to do any major sightseeing. I did, however, consume the best strawberries I have ever had in my entire life from a street vendor. I ate an entire carton by myself. They were fantastic. Many people say “don’t eat the local fruit” when you travel, but I survived. My brother and I bought and ate fruit whenever we found it, because you don’t know when you will have another opportunity later.

The cuckoo clock rang, and I swear it took about half an hour to go through the entire rotation. The square was crowded beyond capacity, and everyone was taking pictures, filming, or simply looking up. To be perfectly honest, I thought it was a waste of time. After about the first thirty seconds, I got bored. But, lots of people thought the clock was really interesting, so to each their own.

After the Glockenspiel finished ringing, we got back on the bus and went to our hostel for the night. It was located about half an hour away from the city centre. On our way there we passed the largest Mercedes-Benz dealership I have ever seen. It was actually the manufacturing plant, and through the modern glass of the building I could see roundabouts with some of the most beautiful cars ever created. We also drove down the Autobahn highway, and I was able to sit at the front of the bus on the steps and watch the world fly by. We arrived at our hostel, and I was ready for a night out.

That evening, our entire tour went to a real Bavarian Beer Hall, located near the actual site of Oktoberfest. We ate pork knuckle, watched a traditional performance, and drank German beer out of HUGE beer steins. Every three minutes, everyone had to get up out of their chairs, swing their beers from side to side, and sing a German toast. Each time, we would end by shouting “PROST,” and everyone would clink glasses before drinking and sitting back down. As I mentioned, this would happen EVERY THREE MINUTES. It became a contest to see who could actually start eating their dinner before we had to get up and toast again. It was so much fun.

At the end of the evening, I bought one of the beer steins to bring home to Jeff. It is absolutely necessary that I mention I carried it around in my suitcase for the rest of my trip. That was about a month and a half. Beer steins aren’t light, and I had to take care that I didn’t break it as I travelled from one place to another. Happily, I can say that the beer stein made it home. It is currently in Jeff’s possession, and he drank out of it when we moved into our first apartment together at the beginning of April.

Another little fact I must mention is that you cannot cash traveller’s checks at the DEUSCHBANK. This is the main bank in Germany. In fact, you can’t cash traveller’s checks pretty much anywhere in Europe. If someone will do it for you at a currency exchange office, they will charge you outrageous service fees. Just don’t bring traveller’s checks. Bring cash and a debit card.

The following morning, we left Munich and headed for Austria. It was a short visit, but worth it. The Beer Hall was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and I am so glad I was able to bring the beer stein home to Jeff.

Today in history...

There are a few interesting historical facts that I would like to make note of for today, April 20...

1889 - Adolf Hitler was born in Austria. He would have been 121 years old today.

1912 - Bram Stoker - author of Dracula - died in London, England.

And of course... April 20 is famously known as a "counterculture holiday" all around the world...

Relocation, relocation!

Here is the last story I wrote for the Projector for the 2009-2010 school year...

For the past few months, my boyfriend Jeff and I have been searching endlessly for our first apartment. We wanted to live on Pembina Highway, and we wanted to be near a major bus route, but it seemed that nothing we could find was quite right. Thankfully, the perfect place became available a month ago. On April 1, 2010, we moved into our very own first apartment. It wasn’t the greatest timing, as we both are currently finishing school for the year, but we were determined to make the move as effortlessly as possible. It was a memorable experience, and I learned many new and interesting things about what not to do when moving out for the first time.

The top three things I learned throughout this experience are as follows:

1) Don’t take everything people want to give you, even if it’s free. I was so thankful that people were willing to provide Jeff and me with items to furnish our apartment, but it isn’t necessary to take absolutely everything that is offered. A person doesn’t need three sets of dishes, four sets of measuring spoons, and thirty coffee mugs. Nor does a person need 14 champagne flutes. Accept what you need, and then politely tell everyone else you are set for the moment.

2) Don’t move on an empty stomach. I learned this the hard way. After about three hours, we had everything in the apartment. Immediately, the beer appeared. Exhausted and thirsty, I cracked one open while setting up my bedroom. Big mistake. When moving into a new place for the first time, one tends to become immersed in their new environment. Unpacking becomes the first priority, and everything else becomes secondary. Remember to eat, because if you don’t, you won’t be feeling 100 per cent for very long. That’s what happened to me. I needed to take a very serious nap.

3) Don’t move in nice clothing. Yes, this is a weird one. I had spent all day at a trade show at school, and was going to the bar later the same evening, so it made sense to remain in the dress and tights I had been wearing all day. This was a bad move, because not only was I uncomfortable, I was only able to provide limited assistance. I couldn’t climb into the back of the truck, or get down on my hands and knees to grab the remote control that fell underneath the car. I didn’t realize how important mobility is when moving, and comfortable clothes are an absolute necessity.

Overall, I believe our first move was successful. We are completely unpacked an organized, and already it looks like we have lived there for years. Hopefully we won’t have to do it again anytime soon, because the single most important lesson I have learned is this: moving is absolutely exhausting.

The Classic Novel Files: Wuthering Heights

Many years ago, I decided this was possibly one of the most depressing novels I have ever read. Nothing good happens to the majority of the characters, and everyone spends their days rambling around and complaining. I wanted to read it again over Christmas, and see if I remembered it correctly. The second time around, it was actually even more depressing.

Throughout the majority of the novel the housekeeper, Nelly Dean, tells the new tenant of the house the story of those who had lived there before him. She works at a large mansion called Thrushcross Grange. A few miles away is a smaller house called Wuthering Heights. For about fifty years the families of both households interacted with each other, and the end result was never favourable. Nelly relays the heartaches of two generations as her listener hangs onto every word.

Heathcliff, an illegitimate child who was brought to Wuthering Heights by a kind man, is the most despicable human being imaginable. He is tormented throughout his childhood, which is not his fault, but decides to make every person around him pay for his unhappiness. The love of his life, Catherine, marries someone else, even though she loves Heathcliff. After she dies, Heathcliff goes off the deep end. He ultimately makes the life of Catherine’s daughter miserable, and kills his own son by being indifferent towards him. It’s only after Heathcliff dies that some form of normalcy can be discovered at either household, and the inhabitants can attempt to build happy lives.

With all that being said, read the book. You will feel angry, you will feel sad, and you will become emotionally invested in the characters. But in the end, you will be happy with the outcome of the novel. It’s a classic for a reason.

The Novel Files: Scar Tissue

I realize that a recent biography written by a still-alive musician is not exactly a classic, but it is still an important piece of writing. For Christmas, I gave my brother Scar Tissue, the autobiography of Red Hot Chili Peppers front man, Anthony Kiedis. I have read the book many times myself, read it again last week, and think that it is a book every music-lover should own.

Scar Tissue walks us through the tumultuous life of Kiedis. It talks about his childhood, his parents, growing up, the Chili Peppers, and everything you can imagine along the way. I particularly liked the parts where Kiedis talks about the different women in his life. He is unapologetic when discussing flirtations, affairs, and muses, but swears that he loved all of the women he was in relationships with. There are also many pictures which bring to life the women he writes about. It's amusing to hear how the various relationships ended, and I can't help but wonder how they feel about Kiedis' descriptions of them...

I was also very interested in the parts of the story that talk about Hillel Slovak, the original guitarist. He died of a heroin overdose in 1998, and was replaced by John Frusciante. I don’t know what it is, but something about tragic death fascinates me. I think it is horrible when a young, talented individual is taken away too early, yet at the same time, I want to know everything I can about it. I was the same way when Heath Ledger, Michael Jackson, and Brittany Murphy died. I just want to know as many facts as possible. Another part of the story that surprised me was the fact that Flea (a.k.a Michael Balzary) was in the ambulance with River Phoenix when he was taken to the hospital after a serious drug overdose. Phoenix died as a result, and this is another example of tragic death in the story.

The book is definitely worth a read, and you won’t regret it. It will change your opinion of Kiedis, if not the Chili Peppers as a whole.

My Travels: Venice

Well, this is going to be quite a long post, but we'll go slow and try to get through it together. I can't write one word about Venice without writing a hundred, and there are still things that I wish I could have included. This is the "Cole's Notes" version, and I hope you enjoy...

We only had one day to sight see in Venice, and I wanted to ensure I made the absolute most of the opportunity. Our tour stayed in a very large campground across the Laguna Veneta from the city, and it was bustling with activity all day and all night, but even the body of water separating me from Venice couldn’t take away the magic of the city. As soon as I dumped my bags in our trailer (which was actually quite cute), I grabbed Jill’s hand and we ran eagerly to the water’s edge.

We could see Venice in the distance, and clearly make out the shape of the Campanile di San Marco (a.k.a the bell tower). I was so excited. Ever since I was a little girl, I had dreamed of spending time in Venice. It was always the number one place on my list growing up, and I was obsessed to the extent that one year my brother bought and constructed a 3-D model of a canal and gondola for me. Later that night, Jill and I bought a spectacular bottle of white wine, and sat on the rocks at the shoreline. We drank, watched the lights of Venice, and talked about life, love, and everything in between. In a strange way, I felt at home.

The following morning, our entire tour boarded a small boat, and travelled across the water to Venice. As we approached the island, it actually began to seem real that I was about to see the city for the first time. Buildings started to appear on both sides as we neared the dock, and it took a moment before I realized we were actually in a canal. We docked, jumped out onto cobblestone, and began walking towards Piazza San Marco. Old, Italian-style buildings lined the pathway, and vendors selling souvenirs, gelato, clothing and Murano glass beckoned us as we moved. There were people absolutely everywhere. The whole scene was slightly overwhelming, given the fact that it was just before 9 a.m. on a weekday. Roughly every 200 metres is a small bridge built over small canals that make up the interior waterways of the city. Each canal branches off into more canals, creating the most intricate road waterway system I will ever experience in my life. The canals in the Netherlands were impressive, but this felt like something different.

Before turning into Piazza San Marco, we stopped to admire the Bridge of Sighs. This bridge is significant because it is where criminals were transported from the Doges Palace to the prison. It is called the bridge of SIGHS because it is the last glimpse prisoner’s have of the outside world before being locked away in one of the dark and uninviting prison cells. In fact, Casanova himself once crossed the bridge.

Finally, we walked into Piazza San Marco. It is one of the most photographed places in the world, and with good reason. It is a place where there are tons of birds, patio tables, chairs, and vendors, but there are also many beautiful buildings. Unfortunately, there was also construction scaffolding taking up part of the square, so I had to be crafty and artsy when taking photos. Our tour guide, Ollie, explained at the beginning of the tour that construction happens in Europe, just like anywhere else in the world. No tourist can control it, so they just have to deal and work around it. I was frustrated that I couldn’t get the best photos possible of Piazza San Marco, but the ones I did take were still able to convey the beauty of Piazza.

I should take a moment to describe the square, because it’s both gorgeous and complex. There are four main sides (which makes sense because it’s a “square”). The first side contains a large opening leading to the outermost pathway, where we entered after disembarking from the boat. Along the rest of the side stands the San Marco Church and bell tower - which offers the best views of Venice – and a number of small, retail spaces sitting underneath beautiful alcoves. The second side is all retail spaces, as is the third. The fourth side is where the lovely Doges Palace stands. There is also another large opening leading further into the city. Small passageways have been created in between the retail spaces, and they also lead further into the city. If you are at all confused by this, you’re not alone. I got a headache simply trying to write it down.

Before setting us loose on the town, our tour guide took us to a glass blowing shop and a lace making lesson. I was initially sceptical, and wondered if both detours were just a money grab, but they turned out to be incredible opportunities. I didn’t purchase anything at the lace place, but I wanted to buy EVERYTHING at the glass shop. It was real, handmade Murano glass, and each piece came with a certificate of authenticity. I learned in Prague that the only way to really KNOW the jewellery is real is to ensure it is accompanied by certification. I spent about €50 Euros, wanted to spend €300, and had to forcibly remove myself from the store.

The day was getting warm, and Chris, Jill, Jeff and I had two missions: lunch, and wandering. We worked our way through countless passageways, past crumbling walls and hidden churches, and gradually stumbled upon the Rialto Bridge, spanning the Grand Canal. I wish I could have carried a video camera with me the entire time I was in Europe, because it’s hard to do everything justice. We were walking down a narrow passageway, heard the sound of water, and BAM! There was the Grand Canal, right in front of us. Both the canal and the surrounding pathways were bustling with so much activity that it was difficult to walk. It was here, along the bank of the Grand Canal in Venice, that we had lunch after running a gauntlet of loud, abrasive male waiters waving menus in our faces and trying to force us to sit down. Finally, we found the perfect place. I had ravioli, we all chatted and watched people pass by, and it was absolutely divine.

After eating, we continued to wander. We walked back to the main pathway where we got off the boat in the morning, and took pictures of each other with a lovely backdrop of boats, canals, and Italian buildings. Gelato was also on the menu, and you haven’t experienced ice cream until you have REAL gelato in ITALY. As the day grew warmer and warmer, I began to notice that my brother looked ready to pass out. The heat got to all of us during that trip, and in Venice it was Chris’ turn to feel ill. We stopped at a deli just outside of Piazza San Marco, and bought him a Fanta (another European staple). It wasn’t helping, so we took off in search of an air-conditioned haven.

To ensure that Chris didn’t pass out in the middle of Venice, we stopped in a little wine bar that is attached to a hotel and located directly on a canal. The gentleman who served us was less than impressed to see us, as I’m sure he knew we were only ordering wine so that we could sit in his air-conditioned bar and use the bathroom. When Jill explained that we were only there to have a drink and sit, we were ushered into a corner with different, less-comfortable chairs than the rest of the bar. People who ordered food were allowed to sit anywhere; people who ordered only drinks had to sit in the corner. Surprisingly, I didn’t find this rude, as similar treatment is found all over Europe. In Athens, mom and I were not allowed to sit down in an empty dining area at an outdoor gyro vendor. Apparently we had paid, the “stand and eat” price, not the “sit and eat” price. That, however, is a completely different story.

The difficulty of travelling Europe is that a person is usually out and about at the crack of dawn, and doesn’t return home until after dinnertime. While this adds an air of excitement to each and every day, it also results in very long days with very little time to relax. I think it was about 40 degrees in Venice that day, and we were all feeling it. In the wine bar, Jill ordered me a glass of Pinot Grigio, and I fell in love. She had already been to Italy once before, and knew a bit of Italian, so she could read the menu and order effectively. Thanks for the wine choice Jill, wherever you are. It was fantastic. Afterwards, we met our tour for a spectacular gondola ride. No trip to Europe is complete without it. Contrary to popular belief, howere, not all gondoliers sing. Ours was kind of an ass.

Our group met up with the rest of the tour just before dinnertime, and we boarded a much larger boat than we had taken that morning. We sat outdoors, on the front, so we could watch Venice as we left. That evening, Jill, myself, and Rachel, our lovely roommate from New Zealand, hosted a “wine and cheese” party in our trailer at the campsite. It rained, so it was a perfect night to stay indoors and talk.

That night, we became better acquainted with a group of people who became our family for the rest of the trip. Jill – who I have mentioned before – is a teacher in the U.S. After the common Canadian-American banter, we became great friends. It was terribly sad when we parted company on a train in Paris, and I hope we will have the opportunity to meet again. Jeff is a pharmacist from British Columbia, and I can’t tell you how helpful he was when we all started getting sick around the time we hit Switzerland. He is also one of the most friendly, interesting people I have ever met, and I hope that he is doing well wherever he currently is. Rachel, as I mentioned, is from New Zealand, and she is a travel agent. She has a heart of gold, and is simply a beautiful person inside and out. My brother –Chris- you know of already. We also met and became instant friends with Steve and Sam, a hilariously funny couple from Melbourne, Australia, who could always make me laugh. Add me into the mix, and there was our group for the rest of the trip.

We spent the evening in our trailer drinking wine and “Venice” sunrises while eating overpriced Baby bell cheese and reminiscing about the first few weeks of our European adventure. It was a fantastic evening, and the perfect end to our stay in Venice.

Aggravated artist speaks out against America

The following was a journalism assignment I completed last Friday. It was a "streeter," which meant I had two hours to wander around outside, talk to strangers, gather information, and write 350 words. Oh, and it was 8 a.m. The names have been changed, but the story is still the same. Here's what I came up with...

The Canadian loonie is currently at par with the American dollar. Whenever this happens, many Canadians take advantage of the opportunity. They travel to the U.S. to shop, to buy tickets for vacations, or to simply exchange their money so it’s worth more when the loonie drops again. Despite the general excitement, one Winnipeg man is frustrated and disheartened by the fluctuating currency. aggravated

Ron White, 39, is an artist. He has been carving totem poles, masks, and killer whales since he was a boy, and lives off the income he receives from selling his artwork. During the chilly winter months, White travels to the U.S. to work, and sells his art on boardwalks and in parks between April and September.

“It’s amazing that we’re ‘even Steven’ with America,” White said. “I bet tons of people will be happy about it. But me, not so much, because being at par is not so good for business.”

The last two winters, White remained in Canada, because he was having difficulty finding buyers for his artwork. With the recession in full swing, and many Americans struggling to keep their homes, purchasing art was hardly a priority.

“It just isn’t worth it to go to America right now,” he explained. “Galleries aren’t buying and people don’t have money for extra stuff. It sucks, but I’m hoping our dollar will drop. Sorry, but it will be good for me.”

John Cabot, White’s friend, is happy both currencies have leveled out.

“I feel for my man here,” he explained, “but, I love any opportunity when we can be equal to the States.”

White isn’t convinced that next winter he will be able to travel to the U.S. to sell his artwork.

“The dollar does what the dollar does, and I can’t change it. I just hope and wait, and hopefully I’ll be in Arizona next winter.”

In the meantime, White said he is scheduled to participate in a demonstration at the Canadian Plains Gallery on May 15, 2010. He will be carving a totem pole, and will provide the audience with historical background as he carves.

“In the end, it doesn’t matter where I do my artwork,” he explained. “I love it, and I guess that’s enough for now.”

My Travels: Dresden

I can’t say too much about this beautiful little German town, as we were only there briefly, but the time I did spend in Dresden was amazing. We left Berlin at about 8 a.m., drove for a few hours, and arrived around noon. I was starving, Chris was hung over, and Jill wanted tea, so our first mission was to find a place to have brunch.

We wandered around, and found a lovely café in an equally lovely little square. We sat down, and quickly realized the menu was in German and the server was ignoring us. This was the first time we were being blatantly overlooked, and I became very frustrated very quickly. I have a short attention span and low tolerance for everything when I’m hungry, so I’m sure I wasn’t pleasant to be around. Somehow, Chris managed to flag down the server, and she brought us English menus. This was a very nice gesture, and made me feel like an ass. We all ordered waffles with whipped cream and Belgian chocolate. To be honest, I don’t even remember what I drank. The waffles were that good. I could have ordered a dozen, and trust me, I would have found a way to eat them all.

Here’s a little bit of history to put the city into perspective…

Dresden is the capital of the state of Saxony. It sits on a section of the Elbe River that has been inhabited since approximately 600 B.C. Old Town – the city centre where most of the tourist attractions are located – truly looks like a medieval village. All of the streets are cobblestone. Every building has spires, arches, peaks, and is made of stone. Horse-drawn carriages pass by every ten minutes or so, and buskers line the squares. Much of Old Town was damaged by bombings during the Second World War, but the city is working on restoring the historic buildings to their former elegance.

We weren’t sure if there was enough time to fully explore the entire city, so we decided to stay in Old Town. There were so many buildings to look at, but here are a few of the most significant:

The Frauenkirche ("Church of Our Lady") was built as a Lutheran cathedral between 1726 and 1743. It is the main focal point in Dresden, and is known for its large domed roof and baroque architecture. The dome is 314 feet tall, and was constructed of sandstone.

The Zwinger used to be a palace, and now it is a historical museum. There are lots of cool things to look at inside, including guns, cannons, artillery, that kind of stuff.

Semper’s Opera House is absolutely beautiful, and there is a large statue out front you can sit on. The Opera House stands at one corner of Theaterplatz, one of Dresden’s most famous squares.

I also enjoyed walking along the river bank before it was time to board our bus and travel to Prague. Having a picnic and watching boats pass by seemed like the perfect way to spend an afternoon, and I was jealous of all the relaxed people I passed. I loved my Contiki tour, but the downside to travelling to many countries in a short period of time is that often it is difficult to take a moment and enjoy the scenery. Only now, as I am look back at the photographs I took of Dresden, do I realize how absolutely beautiful it was.

A last note I would like to make is that Dresden had the absolute WORST public bathrooms I have ever experienced. Throughout Germany, I encountered nothing but clean, pristine, well-maintained bathrooms with available attendants and LOTS of toilet paper. In Dresden, the WC was located underneath a bridge, by the river. It was necessary to run a gauntlet of automated door and bar mechanisms to get inside, all of which did not work properly. There was no toilet paper, barely any running water, one lone light bulb in the ceiling, and no mirrors. It was gross.

I was grateful to have had the opportunity to visit Dresden, even if it was just for a moment. There were tons of tourists, and it looked like the city was a popular weekend getaway. If I could have gone back in time and changed my trip, I would have wanted two full days to explore this medieval city. I would have fallen asleep on the riverbank, climbed to the top of the Frauenkirche, and gone on a long carriage ride. But you can’t always get exactly what you want, and my afternoon in Dresden was magical.

Just stay away from the public bathrooms… Seriously…

Today in History... April 7th

I was searching for an interesting historical fact to write a quick blog about, and instead, I found many. Below is a short list of a few things that I believe are worth reading, and worth learning more about. Especially the one about Mussolini’s wife beating him up. I thought that one was pretty good…

1906 – Mount Vesuvius erupts and devastates Naples, Italy.

1923 – The first brain tumour operation under local anesthetic is performed in New York City.

1926 – Italian dictator Mussolini has his nose broken… by his wife.

1939 – Italy invades Albania.

2001 – Mars Odyssey is launched.

2003 – U.S. troops capture Baghdad; Saddam Hussein’s regime falls two days later.

Opportunity of a Lifetime

Note: This was a story that I wrote for journalism class a few months ago. It was part of a larger project...

It's a gutsy move leaving Canada and accepting a contract to teach English to strangers halfway around the world. It's even gutsier to do this in a country that has a completely different language and culture from North America. Yet every year, thousands of Canadians are picking up and moving across oceans to teach English in foreign countries.

TESOL (Teachers of English to Speakers of Other Languages) is a program designed to instruct individuals on how to prepare to teach effectively overseas. It was established in 1966, and courses are taught in every province in Canada.

Peter Herbert, 26, graduated from the University of Manitoba with a Bachelor’s degree in 2006. By the time he finished school, he was ready for something different and exciting.
“I kind of had it in my mind for a number of years that once I graduated I wanted to teach abroad,” he explained. “I saw the name TESOL for years and years while I was going to school, and figured it was worth a try.”

Herbert took a TESOL course through Oxford Seminars at Global TESOL College on Notre Dame Avenue in the summer of 2006. Each course takes 60 hours, and is taught over 6 days. The company primarily targets university graduates, but anyone at any age can sign up for the program.

In Winnipeg, the next session begins May 8. In many countries – including Japan, South Korea, Thailand, and Indonesia – the school year begins annually in September. It is possible to take the course in May, find a job, and begin work in a new country a few months later.
Jeffrey Schultz, also a TESOL graduate, explained that even though the course costs $995, it’s worth the money.

“They teach you things you wouldn’t otherwise think about,” he said, with a smile. “One example is when we were instructed to contact the bank and embassy both in Canada and the country we move to. That way, if you suddenly disappear, someone will know where to start looking.”

Shultz took the course last year, and has already received three job offers.

“I’m waiting until I finish school this year to go overseas to teach,” he explained. “But I know when I want a job, it will be there. Once you’re a TESOL graduate, they help you find work.”

Herbert went through a number of interviews, and ultimately decided to work in Thailand. He left Canada in April of 2007, and didn’t return for 20 months. There were roughly thirty English teachers working in his office in Bangkok, and almost half of them were Manitobans. His coworkers were instrumental to his success during the first few weeks.

"They give you lots of advice, like to never touch someone on the head unless you're Thai. It’s a Buddhist country. The holiest part of the body is your head, and the worst is the bottom of your feet. You never open the door with your foot in Thailand – never use your feet to do anything but walk."

The school days are typically the same as in Canada, with class beginning between eight and nine a.m., and ending after three. Most teachers work in designated English language schools, and are assigned the same class for their entire contract. Teachers usually sign a contract for twelve months, and if they complete it, an extra month’s salary is provided as a bonus. Salaries vary considerably depending on the country, but an individual with a university degree could make up to $6000 a month in a country like Japan or South Korea.

Herbert took his TESOL instructor’s recommendation to begin learning Thai almost immediately after arriving. He was going to be there for over a year, and wanted to have an easier time communicating with locals.

"Even just making an effort to learn their language goes a long way in garnering their respect towards you," he explained.

Gary Bosomworth, managing director of Hess Education Canada, an ESL teacher training and recruitment centre in Vancouver, has taught in both Taiwan and Indonesia. He explained that it is not mandatory to learn the local language, but highly recommended.

“I did not know any Mandarin when I moved to Taiwan or Indonesian when I moved to Indonesia,” he said. “You learn. Some people learn really well, some do not. It is a personal choice.”

Today, Herbert is back in Canada, and planning to take Education at university. He went back to Thailand last fall to visit his former students and his girlfriend, whom he met while teaching. Herbert recommends the TESOL program and teaching overseas to anyone who is craving a bit of change and adventure.

“TESOL courses are by no means a magic tool that will transform you into a teacher overnight. That comes only with experience, and the amount of dedication you are willing to put into the job. However, TESOL courses do help you answer some of the bigger questions one may have about teaching, and at least give you a running start for when you begin.”