Qui m'aime me suive
I just read those were the words of Philippe VI de Valois in 1328. It's an expression I think of every so often. I was happy to organize a skating party with some non-busy friends last night. The expression helps me to understand some things.I am not sure of the English equivalent, but I often think about it at the same time as the Mexican dicho 'el intéres tiene pies.'

Here is a video of the skating rink last night.

Cool videos

Some friends of a friend made this video about a month ago, and I could have been in it but had made other plans. Regardless it is fun to watch. CLOWNS: binder flipping fun with Sea Water Bliss. Enjoy and happy new year !

A friend just told me about another site that's quite interesting too. Animations by Elisabeth Beliveau.

Remembering Spain
Last year at this time I was in Spain. To have a Spanish experience this year in October we hosted a San Froilan themed housewarming party. St. Froilan is native to and patron saint of the city of Lugo in Galicia. There it is a huge party with medieval costumes, wine, and octopus. Ours had the essentials, and the added bonus was an octopus piñata.

A new vent

The furnace company was supposed to come yesterday, but they didn't. Instead the landlord came. He went upstairs into my roomate's room and closed the door. From downstairs she heard loud sawing noises. When he left she found a new hole in the floor behind the door. Old house and home repair jobs seem to be our heating problem. Good thing it has warmed up to a nice 'balmy' -17 C today.

An Early New Year's celebration

In 2009 I celebrated the New Year three times. First at the beginning of January, then at the end of January for the Chinese New Year, and finally mid-March for Norooz the Iranian New Year. Mid-October I started celebrating 2010 with Diwali the East Indian New Year. To surprise my roommate Jayshree, my sister and I made a chalk rangoli on the basement floor. Then I went to Bollywood Sunday at the Broadway theatre with Jayshree to watch a very entertaining film called 'Dil Bole Hadippa' (Heart Goes Hurrah). Following this we had a couple of meals with curries, chapatis, papadum, chai tea, and other tasty things I don't even remember the names of. We tried some Bollywood dancing and were dressed up in saris. Another fun film we watched was called: 'Kuch Kuch Hot Hain'. You might be able to watch clips of these films on Youtube.

Quote from Education Building wall

"Exceptional teachers teach naked 'bare yourself' "

Too cold to bike?

I think it was about -35 C this morning. I bundled up with my ski mask and winter clothes. I had a few errands to run, since I lost my wallet last Saturday evening. I stopped a couple of places and then went accross the bridge to drop a book off at the University library. My toes were very cold, so I decided to stay a while and mark some papers there. When I finally got to work I went to take my metal water bottle, but it was cracked. It seems today was the end of my Regina Delta Devils Dragon Boat team water bottle. Also maybe a sign I should start taking the bus.

The shoes come out of the box

Finally after almost a year of sitting in a shoe box I wore the Flamenco dance shoes I bought in Madrid last January. A childhood friend was in town giving a Flamenco dance workshop and I got to wear my shoes. They felt a little small, but it was fun to wear them and learn some steps for a Tientos dance. Apparently 'Youtube' is great for videos to learn Flamenco rhythms.

Hidden treasure

Last Thursday night the landlord came over to look into the heating problem in the upstairs bedrooms. He pulled out a small teddy bear, some underwear, a magazine, and other random objects his son had pushed into the vent. It's nice to finally feel some heat coming into my bedroom.

Confessions of confusion
I am going crazy. Sometimes I think I want something and then I find out that I don't, and this seems to be a reocurring problem. It's hard to be happy with yourself. Just under two weeks ago I went to my ballroom dance class and I didn't want to be there. I've had a lot of stress lately with work and things, and was quite tired. I am confused because I thought I liked to dance. When I went away to university I went to great pains to organize and run a ballroom dance club so that I could experience some of the fun my friends were having in Saskatoon with the U of S club. Now that I am finally part of the U of S club, it's not really what I expected. At the same time I thought I wanted to be in a relationship, but all the worry that's come from it makes me think that maybe I don't. Then with work not going well right now I wonder if I have the right job. Of course since the questions have started, I have become unsure about this idea of being more settled and living in Saskatoon. I don't know what I want or if I ever did. I am really trying to stay with a job and in a city for more than a year. I guess it's been 1 year and 2 months since I've been back here now. When I am away I want to be home, to be 'normal', but it's hard and disappointing when things don't work out the way you would like. Now that I've broken the illusion of 'home' being the calm, secure place I imagined it was, it is even scarier. I wish I didn't feel like my life was falling apart right now.

Catalan theatre in Saskatoon
I am intrigued by how Tom Bentley -Fisher explained in the discussion following the play reading that the only thing that interests him now is the relationship between the inner life and the outer life. The play 'Après moi le déluge' was read in the upstairs of Lydia's bar, and there a catalan creation of a dialogue in Africa was re-entacted in a small hidden space in Saskatoon. I am not sure how to explain my interpretation of him describing this existence of a double reality.

Searching for Sunshine

Last month at my friends' Tamara and Luis' going away party she told me if ever I felt sad just imagine opening the door to my closet and seeing their party inside. It was an amazing party with a handful of Peruvians now living in Saskatoon. There were contagious smiles on everyone's face and some of the dancing made the house shake. The group tried to teach my roommate and I some traditional dances and they joked about everything. We were scolded for going home early at 3:00 a.m.

Buenos Aires Photos

Feeling American
Whenever I travel I like to try and be a local, and not a tourist. I generally avoid speaking English and spending time with other North Americans. As a traveller it is more likely that you will get to know other foreigners rather than locals. If you really want to get to know people from a certain culture, you have to try and figure out where they like to travel to. For example, I think if you went to study in Quebec you would probably get to know more French people (from France) than if you went to study in Paris. In any case for Argentina, I know I have met a couple of Argentines in Spain, I suspect with the Italian roots that many also travel to Italy, and probably in countries like Japan, Germany, Russia, and the U.S. where tango is quite popular. Needless to say I don't really feel like I got to know many local Argentinians. I think in some ways the country has a mixed up identity like Canada because of large amounts of immigration.

I did spend enough time in the country to be confronted by my 'Americanness' (or as Canadians might prefer my North Americanness). Actually I felt it on the first day. I had some small problems with my bank card in certain ATM machines and most places did not accept credit cards. As soon as I got to the B & B, I wanted to phone my bank and I expected them to fix the problem immediately. The B&B owner told me that things in Argentina take time. I find I don't like the seemingly impatient and demanding side of me that is in part fed to me by my culture. As much as I try, I am not very good at being more laid back latin American style.

On a side note, not once did any guys in BA tell me I was beautiful, I guess it is too much of a big city. The one Spanish word that sort of stood out for me was the expression 'barbero/a'. I gather it means silly/dumb and having never heard the word before I was amazed at how it seemed to come it conversation.

The frustration and magic of tango
I did not enjoy some of my tango classes because it seemed like we always had to go back to the beginning. I felt disappointed because I did not go all the way to Buenos Aires to practice learning how to walk over and over again. Part of the problem came from the fact the classes at the B&B were open to anyone and there were always new people who did not know much about the dance. I know I am still a beginner and that I don't know really know the proper technique, but I was tired of going over structure. I think part of it was a clash of teaching methods. From having learned my first steps from a discovery-based learning method to going back to a 'grammar' based learning method is hard. I got tired of watching teachers demonstrate and not really coaching or giving practice time. I admit I made for a bit of a difficult student being stubborn and bored in the classes. In the end I always ended up learning something, but it was not really what I wanted.

Friday I went out to check out Club Villa Malcom . I was told I would get tango nuevo and I was curious to learn more about that style. I can't really say if I did see any special style. The club was much more relaxed than any of the others I went to. I don't think I talked to one Argentine person there all night. I sat at a table with girls from New York and Russia, and I guy from Germany. I also randomly ran into a swing dancer named Sharon Davis who is from Australia and was in Edmonton in May giving a workshop that I attended. Her dance partner is from BA, so it wasn't that strange. Around 2am there were a couple performances by once again the Japanese champions (I think they were following me) and a Chilean couple. Neither of the dances really blew me away. I guess they had amazing technique, but I was hoping for a little more passion. It was interesting to see the international side of tango

Saturday I wanted to go out, but I was too tired from my trip to the Tigre and tired of doing things by myself. I was told the Sunderland Milonga would be a neat experience and that Club Gricel sometimes has a live band. I was torn because it was my last night in Buenos Aires. After some sleep and a lot of effort I did convince myself to go out. It's a little crazy to go out at 3am, but it was quite easy to walk down the street catch a cab and after 3:30am La Viruta is free. Lots of people go there after the other Milongas end and just after four you can order breakfast. The fresh medialunas looked delicious. I was still hoping to see some amazing dancers (apparently Sunday is the night to watch the professionals, not Saturday). Surprisingly I got to dance a lot which is really what I like. Mostly I danced with older Argentine men and they like to pull you close and walk you around the dance floor. The less I worry about technique and doing the proper steps, the better I dance. A few people I danced with gave me more space and time to do the steps which I liked. As crazy as it sounds not one person I danced with in the whole trip had the same style. I didn't plan on staying until 6am, but the couple next to me made me. As soon as I got up to leave the wife called her husband to dance with me. In the end yes I am glad I got to dance the last song which is always an electronic tango. They dim the lights and play with blue lighting. At one point I had sort of closed my eyes while being softly rocked around the dance floor. Suddenly the music changed and then blue lights went up and that is when I got to see some exciting tango moves. I was slowly turning around the room and all around me there were dancers being twirled and caught and connecting. People of all ages, a couple of men dancing with each other, and everyone enjoying the dance.

Visiting El Tigre

When I first got on the commuter train, I didn't see any real seats. People stood on the sides, rested on ledges near the doors, sat on the ground, or walked up and down the train. It was around 11am and more and more families, couples, musicians, and so on got on at each stop. First came a blind man taking a few careful steps with his cane and then he reaching into his pocket he pulled out a harmonica. Next was a short older man carrying a harp just slightly taller than him. Suddenly he stopped and began energetically strumming a Chacarera. Then one at a time men would appear with boxes or baskets that they would set down and tell the wonders of the package of gum, oreo cookies, pastries, or whatever they were selling. In between children came by handing out bobby pins or cards hoping to sell them to you. After handing them all out they would go back and collect them hoping to have sold one or two. Finally at Tigre everyone poured out of the train to walk along the banks of the muddy river, go to the amusement park or wander through the large craft fair on the port (best place for souvenirs I think). I read there is another 'turistic' train, but I quite enjoyed the people watching on the commuter train.

An older couple at the B& B suggested I take a wooden boat to visit some of the islands. After walking all around town I found the tourism office and the boat dock right next to the train station where I started. No one knew about the three islands, but told me I could visit the place where three rivers went. I got my ticket for Tres Bocas and was loaded onto one of the wooden water taxis. Luggage was thrown on top of the boats and then they set off down the canal like river. All along the banks of the river were docks for summer houses, restaurants, etc. People sat along the river in big hammock like lawn chairs, others fished, and a brave few were in row boats being bounced about by the big brown waves created by the passing boats. It took about half an hour to get to Tres Bocas. One of the clubs we passed along the way had a a series of flags painted on small pieces of wood. I caught a glimpse of a 'Canadian' flag that had modified the maple leaf with three holly leaves. I wasn't quite fast enough with my camera.

When we arrived I realized I was not in the same place the couple had told me about. They said they had had a hard time finding the restaurant on the 'island'. Here there were about three just steps from the dock, but I was more interested in exploring. I went to go see the 'tres bocas' and started to follow a trail that twisted around the 'island'. The further I walked the less people I saw and suddenly I felt like I was walking through the yards of private cottages. I decided to turn back and went back to the start and a lady told me the three river mouths were only about 50 metres away. Much less obvious than I had expected she showed me how the three muddy 'rivers/canals' came together. That was it, so I went back to the dock. It might have been interesting to try the parilla meat platter at a restaurant, but not for one person. Back I went to the dock, to the train, and to the city.

More about the art
Ya estoy de vuelta pero I will still write about the last couple of days of the trip. For me la semana del arte ended on the Friday, but I saw in the paper that on Saturday part of a main street downtown BA was closed and huge rolls of papers went down each lane to be filled with children's artwork.

On Thursday I went to see the MALBA (Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires). It was a little smaller than I expected and not as exciting as the art tours. I enjoyed the benches that unravelled wood like wool up an over several floors of the gallery. The Enredamaderas were created by Pablo Reinoso and were quite fun. By far the best piece to me was the short video called 'White Suit' by Miguel Angel Rios. The film shows a dancer in a white suit twirling modified 'boleadoras' (a rope used to catch cattle only this time with pieces of meat on each end) and being barked at by a group of hungry dogs. The Flamenco like dance is impressive as is the statement about hunger, power, and inequality in the world.

My last art tour was in the Belgrano area and highlights included the stories told by the director of the Marier gallery, the playful environmental artwork by Cristina Le Mehauté, and the impressive chaman themed plastic bottle creations by Edgardo Nelson Rodriguez.

Understanding the city to understand the dance
With all of the people on the streets I feel like I practice some of the tango steps by simply walking down the street through crowds of people. I take small steps to make room for people to get of the subte (subway). The dance seems to be every where.

The Tango Map put together by my bed and breakfast seems to be the best free city map I´ve found and it travels with me everywhere. The accompanying booklet listing dance classes and some of the Milongas each night has also been very useful. I was reccomended the magazine ´El Tangauta´ and seems to only be available a certain Milongas or tango spots around town.

To continue on with useful tips, the book ´Buenos Aires Experience: Enjoy the Tango of Learning Spanish´ has been interesting to read. It uses articles about famous tangueros, both dancers and musicians to explain the culture and certain Spanish grammar rules. For culture, slang, and interesting facts it is great, but I think the vocabulary might be a little too challenging if you are only just learning.

For music most people reccomend Zivals, but for more obscure finds an Italian man at my B&B recommended the Buenos Aires Tango Club on Lavalle 2039 - 1. He said to talk to the man with glasses. He also told me I could not leave without CDs from the following artists: Juan Darienzo, Miguel Calo, Osvaldo Fresedo, Francisco Canaro, Osvaldo Pugliese, Edgardo Donato, Alfredo de Angelis, and Enrique Rodgriguez. A german girl in the B& B recommended the electronic groups, such as Bajafondo and Otros Aires.

I did look into shoes, but it seems to overwhelming. I was told to check the shops on Suipacha (300 block), Anchorena (600 block), and others have mentioned the names of shops, such as ´Comme il faut´, or ´Neotango,´and 2x4 al pie.

When people plan to come to study for a couple months they usually make arrangements with one teacher. There are many choices and classes seem to range from 20 pesos a group class to 80+ pesos for private classes. A number of people have talked about the DNI and I would be curious to try a class or two there.

The non-tango tourists usually takes in a dinner and tango show and there is quite a selection. I did stop by the Carlos Gardel house on Wednesday to check it out and do not recommend it because there is not really much to see. Along with Eva Peron, he seems to be the face of BA on most postcards.

Those are my notes,so far.

Language and Tango

For Wednesday nights I was reccomended the Milonga at La Viruta. It is a bar in the basement of the Armenian Cultural Centre in Palermo. When I arrived there were about four large circles of people all around the building. It seems I ended up in an intermediate class. What has been bothering me lately is feeling completely lost when dancing with new people. The class was probably slightly above my level, but it was very relaxed and fun. I really enjoyed the spacious venue and the crowd was younger than the other places. I appreciated the lesson to warm-up and meet people before the dance began. Earlier that day I was suggested I should sign-up for a ladies technique class and a private class before I left, but in my mind what I need is practice. The teacher had told me to relax more when I danced with him, but when people keep throwing in new steps I feel like I can´t follow anything.

When I danced with people after the class, I knew they were about at my level, and we were both making mistakes. I started to get a better sense of the language of the dance and understand some of the leads. I started to recognize vocabulary that I have been taught over the course of the week that I have been here now. Before I learn new steps or take more classes I need to get a better sense of what I have learned. Now I can link this all to Krashen´s theory of language learning for you, but this isn´t one of my CERTESL classes.

A third thing I enjoyed was that there was a variety of tango music styles played, so I got to see a bit of the Milonga (faster-paced) and Tango Nuevo (often danced to electronic tango music). Definitely a tango club to check out if you are ever in BA.

Gastronomia
Things to eat for breakfast in Argentina include the medialuna,a croissant-like pastry that is very delcious. They are smaller and sweeter than the French version. Next, you must have some Dulce de Leche, a thick sweet milky spread that´s great on toast. To drink you can have some Mate (similar to green tea) or yoghurt (similar to Yop) that you can buy in bags in the grocery store.

If you stop in a panaderia (bakery) you can try lots of different breads, and many other italian treats. Empanadas are quite common with a beef, chicken or ham and cheese filling. For lunch I´ve heard there is an amazing quality and quantity of steak served, but I haven´t tried it yet. I did however discover a new vegetable yesterday that is called zapallito. It´s like a zuchini the size of an orange with a slightly more bitter taste.

For snacks the alfajores which I would sort of compare to a wagon wheel with a chocolate covered dry cake sandwich and no marshmellows. I´ve also tried another membrillo filled pastry.

To drink in the grocery store I´ve seen shelves of wine, Quilmes and Patagonia beer and different fruit flavoured drinks. I did mistakenly buy some ´juice´ one day to discover it was actually like ´squash´ after a couple of sips. On a closer look the bottle said to mix it with ten litres of water. My first concern actually was for the teeth of children drinking this super sweet drink.

Buen Provecha!

Turista o Tanguera

I feel like I have to decide because it´s quite tiring to do both. Yesterday I did a quick walk through the parks in Palermo to see the Dia del estudiante and spring celebrations. Since there was no school the parks were full of young people. I felt very tall, white and foreign in the crowd. It was earlier afternoon, so I felt safe enough and watched a band for a little while.

I got back onto the bus to go to Marcela and Mario´s apartment for a BAM (Body awareness method) class followed by a tango class. The focus of the first class was on becoming aware of arm movements starting from the tail bone and too be honest I didn´t quite grasp the notions of the tango class, but they were trying to build on the idea of focusing on your base (which I was interpreting as my hips/lower body). After the class I was finally invited to drink some Mate. The tea like drink that is very popular here.

Today I headed out to visit the Boca area to see the colourful Caminito and the Boca Juniors soccer stadium. Whereas yesterday was nice and spring like, today was cold and rainy again and the outdoor museum was not as attractive as it could have been. After I finally made it back accross town, I joined the Art week tour in the Palermo area. It was great experience.

La Semana de la arte is like an Open Door city tour only better. My tour met at a contemporary art gallery and then took us around on a mini bus to see about six different art venues. One place was a restaurant full of uber-kitsch art in every corner, another a radio-bar restaurant that served us Champagne, and others small art galleries. In one gallery there was a serviette decorating contest on display, in others photography, and we even got to meet one of the artists who wanted us to explain his work to him. I was sad to leave early to get back on the bus for my tango class. Big cities take lots of time to get around, but with this traffic I would not dare bike. As a pedestrian you have to keep a careful eye on all cars as they swerve around you at crossings. Anyways I am a little torn between tango dancing and tourism. Because right now I am too tired to go to a Milonga.

Sunday night Milongas

On my way to the Glorieta Milonga I walked into a Jazz concert in the Olleros subte station. It was such an unusual venue to see three jazz musicians set-up in a corner and people on the stairs, sitting on the floor while others tried to walk through the crowd to get a subway. It was a mini Sunday afternoon jazz festival in various subway stations around the city.

The Glorieta was fun to be out be out dancing in the bandshell/gazebo in a park. Apparently next Sunday is its 14th anniversary or something. Part way through the DJ put on a couple of songs and I got to watch some traditional Argentine dances. One was the Chacarera and the other someone called the Argentine Samba, which is danced with scarves and is nothing like the better known brazilian version.

After that I was invited to join a few others to go to the Milongita. It was much more formal and they were having a special Spring dance. It was definitely the place to be because I got to see a short performance from the recent winners of the Argentine tango world championships (Aug. 30, 2009). Hiroshi and Kioko Yamao danced a more traditional tango and then a faster paced Milonga tango.

My tips from the evening were to not rush the steps, close my eyes to feel the lead, and to trust my partner. Happy Spring everyone!

San Telmo

Sunday morning started a little late with mass at a nearby church. Somehow I was asked to help with the collection. Though feeling totally foreign I followed the other ladies with my red cloth net and went up and down the pews. I appreciated the songbooks, which don´t seem to exist in Spain.

Sunday I was told was the day to visit the Plaza Dorrego market in the San Telmo. At first my walk from the subte station seemed a little sketchy, and then I found the square packed with antique stands. I wandered a bit enjoying the people milling about. I then planned to walk to the Centre in hopes of finding a tourism office that was open. For some reason I walked the wrong way on the Defensa street. I soon found myself in the Lezama park with a big flea market and away from the tourist crowd. I wandered a bit and stopped to use the washroom. A man collected coins as he cleaned the seats of the four porta-potties set up in the middle of the park. I found the whole idea a little funny, but the man was quite friendly. I really enjoy being able to speak to everyone. I try to use the ´vos´ instead of ´tu´ and occasionally slip in ´ch/j´ sound for my ´ll´.

When I realized I was lost I hopped on a bus that had Plaza de Mayo listed as one of its stops. I was suddenly whisked from the quiet neighbourhood to streets packed with souvenir stands. I finally found a tourism office. I took in an Acapella concert they recommended by the Obelisk for the start of Semana del arte. Then back to the B&B for a short nap I set out again for the outdoor Milonga at la Glorieta.

Recoletas

On Saturday I went to visit the neighbourhood of Recoletas. On weekends they have a large craft fair in Plaza Francia and the sun was finally out. I was told to take the subte, but I would reccomend the bus (68 from my area). Lots of small stands filled the park with things like wooden puzzles, silver earrings, leather (belts, purses, book covers), woolen shawls, mate cups, and this list could go on and on.

Also in the park is the Recoleta cemetary and I joined the 2pm Spanish tour. The guide´s name was Alfredo and after about 30 minutes we were about 2 feet into the cemetary. He wanted to explain the history of the cemetaries in Buenos Aires, the different kinds of monuments, the history of Argentina, its families, and on and on. He knew all sorts of little anecdotes and would ask us to guess why a certain type of sculpture was used and this led to more tangents. At some points I got a little lost like when he explained had the importation of certain cattle breeds and the arrival of refrigeration changed the value of land in Argentina and this in turn affected the size and shape of tombs. He also explained how some of the masoleums had doors and families would come and spend the afternoon, share special events, and keep the person part of their lives. Then he asked us about death today? The idea that people try to disappear in cemetaries on the outskirts of cities. It was one intensive Spanish lesson and I actually left around the two-hour mark saturated with Spanish cemetary vocabulary. On my way out I followed the crowds to visit Uarte family´s tomb to see the beloved Eva Perron´s grave.

In a lot of ways I feel like I am in Spain, but at the same time the history is fairly recent like Canada and the tour reminded me of that.

Milongas (for some reason this entry was erased earlier)

The best place to learn to dance the Argentine tango is at a Milonga. The social dance I was reccommended for Friday night was at Salon Canning. I thought I did well to negotiate my way there by bus, despite the fact that the Guia T or bus guide is virtually incomprehensible.

It cost twenty pesos to get in, and the first thing I did when I got there was walk to the bar to get a drink (water). Then I went to get a seat and I was told that I should wait to be seated. Looking around I saw a lot of tables with reserved signs on them. Shortly after I was escorted to a table at the back of the room with other single ladies. By coincidence two of them ended up being from Australia. The girl from BA informed me that I should watch for smiles or nods from gentleman to wait to be asked to dance. It was an interesting room with a wooden square dance floor in the centre and tables all around. On the walls were large blown up photos of dancers at Salon Canning in different poses.

When asked to dance you generally do a set of three dances, stopping for short conversations between each song, and then are escorted off the floor to sit down when some rock or another style of music is played. Most people were quite nice and encouraging despite the fact I told them I only knew ´muy poquito´. I was a little hurt by one man who smiled at me and then as soon as we started he asked do you even know how to dance. I told him very little, he agreed very little and I suggested we not dance and he immediately walked me off the dance floor. In my mind a good dancer can dance with anyone and really good dancer can make you feel like you can dance even when you don´t know how. I saw the man´s friends scold him for having broken the Milonga ettiquette, and a girl at my table told me he was a professional dancer. I did have some other very nice dances afterwards and agree I still have a lot to learn.

Around 2am they should a short video clip in memorial of Omar Vega and he was quite an impressive dancer. I have to learn to be more of a night person because the Milonga was from 11pm to 4am, and I guess I left a little early.

Meeting Marcela
It was a long subte ride to get to Plaza Miserere. When I got out, there were people everywhere. Every building had a shop, in front of them make-shift shops, and then people were walking around selling things like umbrellas, underwear, and churros. One man just simply stood and yelled ´paraguas, paraguas, paraguas.´ You couldn´t stand still in the mad hustle and bustle of people. Eventually I found Rivadavia street and the buzz number. Her building was fascinating because once ´inside´we walked through an outdoor hallway to a second building and up some stairs. In her apartment was a long warm dance studio.

The first thing I was instructed to do was to lay on the floor boca abajo and she massaged my back. That is a nice way to start a dance class. After that I did some stretches to loosen my hip joints and she explained the center of my dance were my ´isquion´ which I gathered meant sit bones. We did some floor exercises that worked with spiralling and reminded me of a contemporary dance class I took in Ottawa that was based on Martha Graham technique. Next she watched me do some basic tango steps and gave some suggestions. During the dance she said to always put your partner first and to always be open to accept their ´marca´ or their guidance. The classes next week should be interesting.

BA
Reasons people come to Argentina seem to vary. One person I chatted with while waiting for luggage was here on a bird hunting trip, a couple from France were on their way to a wedding, and a rabbi on his way home sat next to me on the airport shuttle. He told me all about the history of Jews in Argentina, the fourth country with the most Jewish immigrants, the Rosh Hashana celebration he was preparingfor the next day, and he would have told me more except I fell asleep. Suddenly I had to get up and hit the streets of the city to look for the ´Subte,´ which is what everyone calls the subterraneo metro system.

It was about 15 C and rainy. I guess South America is not always as hot and sunny as we think it is. It´s spring time here and somewhat surprisingly everyone on the streets seems to be wearing dark coloured rain jackets. I am the one that stands out with my bright blue jacket. The craziest part of my walk to the bed and breakfast was seeing a small train with families and people dressed in Spiderman, Minnie Mouse and a big hippo costume. Apparently it was a celebration for the opening of a new grocery store a couple of blocks from my lodging.

After a short rest and a delicious meal in the organic food restaurant Ohsawa half a block from the B& B, I joined in the tango lesson in the small studio where I am staying. During the lesson the teacher kept telling me to have better technique. This means always bringing my feet and knees together and having a stronger frame. Though a little disheartened about going back to the basic step, I was fairly impressed on how the teacher taught several levels at the same time and kept checking in with all of the students in the class.

I decided I should stay in and rest for my first night. I went to the kitchen and had some tea with two older Italian couples before going to bed. After he was done drinking, one of the older gentleman got up and walked around yelling ´uno, due´ and then shaking his hips. This was apparently a review of one of the steps they had recently learned. It was entertaining. That being said the B& B is not exactly as I would have hoped, being that it is not so centrally located and the other guests seem to be mostly older couples.

Airport tourism
Half-awake I made my way from one plane to the next. My first trip to U.S. consisted of visits to the Minneapolis and Atlanta airports. After clearing U.S. customs I had to quickly drink all of my water to go through yet another security scan. Somehow my belt went missing and no one was able to find it. I decided to do some Minnesota research while I waited for my plane. I found an interesting Minnesota souvenir shop, and it was full of bears, moose, loons, and Scandinavian jokes. It could almost have been Canadian. There was a hot dish (a.k.a casserole) cookbook, t-shirts with Paul Bunyan, and even a box of ´Ole and Lena´ fortune cookies (instead of fortunes they had Scandanavian jokes). It turns out the best place to find interesting facts is by looking at children´s books. I learned that Lindenbergh, Schultz, and Garland were all from that state. Next, I was intrigued by the vending machines for scratch cards, electronics, and Rosetta Stone language CD-roms. When I learned my plane would be an hour late I went on the 1.4 mile loop reccomended by the American Heart Association around the airport. While exercising my heart and passing the time I saw an interesting bronze art exhibit.

My next stop was the Atlanta airport which was much busier and crazier than the last. All I had to was listen to the folks around me and I gotta hear a nice southern Georgian drawl. The souvenirs promoted peaches and pandas, and I soon found myself reading the ´G is for Georgia´ book that talked about baseball and Dr. King. What most caught my eye were the honey jars from the Savannah bee company with flavours, such as ´tupelo´, ´black sage´, and ´orange blossom´. We´ll see if I have time to stop on my way back. In every corner there was a TV playing excerpts from the CNN news, but then I discovered some live Jazz music in the food court in Concourse E. As I walked back to T for my flight I saw an amazing art exhibit with huge stone sculptures from Zimbabwe.

The third flight was the longest, but since I was sitting next to a doctor from Argentina I felt quite safe. I learned a little about the local politics, a new name for ´pen´ in Spanish (sort of a British vs American English thing), and the local slang word ´flashar´ (spelling?) which means to be impressed or attracted by someone ( not what an English speaker might first guess).

Porque Buenos Aires...
In my head I have been thinking and dreaming about Argentina for quite some time. I remember being taught the basic step probably about ten years ago by the teachers at the Carleton University Social Dancing Society. I wanted to take tango classes in Ottawa, but never had much luck finding a partner to sign up. On one of my Paris trips while in France I went to Milonga with this guy from Montreal at my hostel. I mostly sat and watched people dance around a tiny attic dance floor. There was a man there that carried a photo of Carlos Gardel in his wallet and tried to explain the history of the dance to me. I also remember watching dancers in a lantern lit park one night in the French city of Lille. Then the night before I finished the Camino I was with a hospitalero from Argentina and he led me through a short tango. I was delighted in Regina to finally find lessons that I could attend. Then last Christmas I made my way to Milongas in Paris and Madrid and now last Sunday I was with the small Saskatoon group dancing at Riverlanding. So though I did buy the plane ticket last week, leave for BA in the morning, and don't really know anyone there, the idea has been growing inside of me for quite a while.

An older gentleman from the Milonga in Madrid confessed to me that tango was his religion and at the same time advised me to wait to go to Buenos Aires, so as not to be disappointed. A dance teacher named Marcela wrote me in an e-mail this week that as a beginner it will be quite exciting because I still have lots to learn. I am looking forward to doing a couple of classes with her. She is the good friend and teacher of the instructor Ravi Khalsa who has given a number of workshops in Regina and Saskatoon. I am also intrigued by my accomodations which not only offer a bed and breakfast, but daily tango lessons as well. The part that worries me right now is the almost 17 hour flight and over 24 hours of traveling.

Just before I decided I remembered the quote from the movie 'Strictly Ballroom' that says a life lived in fear is a life half lived.

The New House
Now over a month since I've been in the crazy blue house on Avenue D, I put together some pictures of my housemates in a small album. There have been many adventures from organizing, settling and adjusting to the new space. It's hard to even know where to start. Before I even moved in my roommate hosted a house concert featuring her friend Lois. To imagine yourself on a cushion in the living room that night you can visit her webpage. That night I heard the name 'Alphabet City' and I like it as a description of the neighbourhood.

My status can still be described as 'half-moved' because I still have a lot of things at my parents house. Right now August seems like a blur of teaching, marking, studying, and housework. And now that the weather is nice I don't like to stay in. Next week I leave on a short trip to Buenos Aires. I have too much time off just to stay in Saskatoon.

Sick
I feel like I have a bit of the flu. My throat was really sore Sunday night. I sort of thought it was just from yelling '1,2,3,4' over and over again at the dragon boat practice, but then my nose started running, and all my energy disappearing. I called in sick Monday night because I figured Tuesday morning would be too late. Sometimes it seems like more work to get a sub, but my muscles started aching more and more. I think on some psychological level I am sick of marking and running from one activity to the next. The homily at church on Sunday was about being still to experience God's presence. I didn't think I would have time this week, but now it seems I have. In a strange way it's been a relaxing day amidst being half-awake and in and out of strange dreams. I will now be much more sympathetic to the sick students in my class. I had been getting a little fed up about organizing papers for them when they were absent. Hopefully tomorrow I will have more energy.

Surprise!

During a break this morning, a student offered me a Chinese candy. I had no idea what to expect, but I like to try new things. It was a brown cylinder shaped sweet that I first thought was a chocolate and then I put it in my mouth to be surprised by a soft chewy texture. I don't really remember the taste, but it wasn't exactly sweet. After class I showed the wrapper to the Chinese woman in the marketing office to find out what was in the candy. Apparently figs, and I think some nuts. She then went onto explain to me that the Chinese characters on the front of the wrapper read something like 'wishing you a healthy baby boy.' Maybe I should ask more questions next time I am offered a candy. Here is a photo of the wrapper to help you identify it should you be offered one (sorry that it's upside down).

On the theme of surprises I asked a student who was not paying attention to read the next question. For some reason he was on the wrong page, and the sentence he ended up reading was 'I have big ears' which ended up being another funny surprise to the day.

Happy Bastille Day to my French friends! Wishing I were in a fire hall in Paris for the fête.

Secret friends
What I thought would be a simple classroom activity. My class has been paired with the other level 20 class to correspond with a secret penpal. Each student has a penname and was asked to write a letter in which they would talk about themselves, their weekend, and then write three questions for their penpals to answer. I love the pen names which range from Google to Jane Eyre. Some people still don't understand they should not write their own name on the letters, nor change pen names week to week. The question idea also had to be explained a couple of times. One student had included three skill testing factual questions about Saskatchewan in his letter and not only that he had also answered his own questions. Then others wrote comprehension questions to see if the reader had understood their descriptions of themselves. Now that I managed to make the students understand they were supposed to answer the letters some of the 'answers' are very brief like "#1 - Yes, I do" to whatever the question had been. Gone are the days of pen and paper correspondance maybe we are teaching an antiquated skill?

Student writing

As much as I dislike the time it takes to mark writing assignments, I do quite enjoy some of the way things are written. On the first day of class I had one student interview me because of the odd numbers in the class. His paragraph was quite well written, but I was surprised to read that he wrote I was living with my husband and two daughters. This came from me telling him in the interview that I had two sisters. He apologized profusely when I explained the error to him. I did however ask him to make the correction before we put up in the hallway.

It doesn't quite compare with the wonderful sentence from last term in a student's 'All about me' paragraph which read; "When I am young, I always stay in everyday with my mother, and I don't like talking to other people, so I think I am not outgoing, and I am not good at intercourse." Sometimes electronic dictionaries are not your friend.

Stories from Brazil
I am very glad Father Les is back in Saskatoon and at St. Annes Parish. His homilies are always interesting with stories from his mission trips to Brazil. I also kind of apreciate the fact that he finds it hard sometimes being back in Saskatoon after having been away. Today he told a story about a woman in Brazil who stopped him one day. She said to him, "You know what your problem is Father?" and he said his reply was "which one?". She said "you walk too fast" and he argued he had a lot of things to do. She told him sometimes people on the street would like to talk to him and then he said he didn't have time to talk to everyone he saw on the street because he would never get anything done. I really understand that. I feel like I walk too fast and in someways it is a North American thing. I spend a lot of time doing activities, but not a lot of time with people. His message was to pay attention to the prophets around us. Listen to the things people around us are saying, and a prophet can be the person sitting next to you.

"Even a goat can float"
Yesterday I went on a small road trip to Manitou Beach for the Centennial weekend homecoming dance at Danceland. The town of Watrous was celebrating its 100th birthday and Manitou Beach its 90th. The StoneFrigate Big Band was playing and a group of Swing dancers from Saskatoon went to join the party and dance on the floor famously built on horsehair. I have left a small mark on the history of Manitou Beach when I worked at Camp Easter Seal eleven years ago now. I have to say I never really appreciated the dance floor until last night. It was so easy and comfortable to dance on and the live music was great. We even got a chance to take in the centennial fireworks and after the dance I went for a quick swim. Little Manitou lake is apparently so rich in minerals and salt that 'even a goat can float'. I told everyone as soon as I got there that the lake was calling my name, and since I am stuck on the prairie no where near the ocean it was the next best thing. Next time I will have to bring a goat.

Busy times ahead
Today I met my new class. I am now teaching in the mornings and I have seventeen students. I spent the afternoon planning things for the upcoming week, and then went to the Global Gathering class where I am substitute teaching a class Thursday evenings for the next month. Over my supper 'break' I stopped in the park to listen to some music and mark a few diagnostic tests. This weekend I have to finish my marking and writing my paper that's due on Monday. The summer is already going by too quick.

Live music at River Landing
Last night there was a mini-storm. It poured rain for about ten minutes and then the dark clouds and gusting wind seemed to settle. Surprisingly it barely rained downtown and the Swing night was still on. A couple members of the band 'Jump Me Martha' came to play for us, and it was a real treat to have live music. They posted a video from the Jazz Fest last Sunday on their Facebook page. You can see me a couple of times. I am wearing a red shirt and a blue hat.

Happy Canada everyone!

Celebrating
It turns out the potluck was a good 30th birthday. I feel very lucky to have been with friends I have known for at least half my life so far. We had a delicious meal with everyone's dishes while sitting outside in the backyard. Sometimes it is so hard to try to see people with their busy schedules, so a birthday was a good excuse to spend time with them. After the meal we had our traditional piñata. My friends' two year old daughter got rather worried that we were hurting the colourful fish, but then was pretty excited when candies appeared. Inside I opened some gifts and then we played Bananagrams, a birthday gift which I am told is like 'speed Scrabble.'

The next day after buying some new shoes at the mall, I went first Swing dancing to the bands at the free stage, and then Salsa dancing to the Cuban bands in the beer gardens. My feet are a little blistered, but I think I got in a good six hours of dancing. Now I have to think about doing some real work again..

Dreams
At 5am I had a fairly clear memory of my dream. It was about two kites. I think there was a new one and an old one, and maybe the new one had been a birthday gift. My sister(s) and I were flying them in the backyard and it was a windy day. The kites started to twist together and I could control them, but my sister couldn't. Having the two kites twist together was a really bad thing to have happen. Near the end of the dream the two kites had pretty much wrapped themselves together and the police had come. They came into the house with two angry dogs and went out back to deal with the kite situation. The twisted kites were dangerous because they could hurt someone. That's as far as the dream went or that I remember. The only connection to the previous day I could make at the time was that when we were in the backyard my friends' two year old daughter had looked up in the sky, pointed, and said the word 'kite.' I remember I was surprised that she knew the word. Maybe the dream was also in fact a reaction to the strange combination of food from the potluck?

Birthdays
Today I turn thirty, and it seems like one of the ages when you ask yourself what have you done with your life until now. I thought I would organize a crazy party with a Galician carnival theme, but now it's just going to be small potluck. In some ways tomorrow will be the real celebration with a day full of dancing at the Jazz festival. It's hard not to compare yourself to others, and your parents at your age. It always seems they have done something that you would have like to have done and then what about the future. Maybe I would have felt more satisfied if I had made plans earlier and worked towards having a house, a family, and then I would feel more grown-up. In a lot of ways I am fine with where I am. I know the little questions of 'what if' always lurk in my mind or in others and I just want to have fun today. I think twenty-seven is still and will always be a magic number for me. It can be any month of the year, but something about it being the 27th makes it a special day.

All that Jazz

Yesterday was the first day of the Saskatchewan Jazz Festival. I went to the free stage and found some friends their to listen first to the Halifax band Gypsophilia and then stayed for Tim Vaughn's show. Great weather, fun people watching, and a little bit of dancing. Here's a photo of the sunshine and first band from last night.

Salsa in the bowl
Saskatoon salseros have started dancing outside on Thursdays. I stopped in and danced in the cuban-style rueda de casino at the River Landing today. I took a Salsa class this winter to mix a little Spanish and dancing into my long cold evenings. It was very fun to be outside in the sunshine now. There is an amazingly energetic cuban named Orlando who now lives in Edmonton, and through workshops and road trips there is a growing group of cuban-style Salsa dancers in Saskatoon. I should however credit Ares, a newcomer from the Philippines who is leading the outdoor Salsa dancing movement. Hooray for more dancing!

Feliz día de San Juan
Today I miss not being in Spain and Galicia. San Juan is celebrated with singing and dancing around bonfires that are built up with objects or messages on paper of things you would like to put behind you. The fire is purifying, and later in the evening you can make a wish and jump over the fire. In the morning, after soaking roses or other flowers in water overnight, the cleansing is complete when you wash yourself with this perfumed liquid. During the fiesta on the beach or in your neighbourhood square, sardines are cooked and eaten, and aguadiente is drunk. Somehow I can't see this being started in Saskatoon, nor celebrated with the same fervour.

Making Decisions
I had a nice conversation this morning with a friend while having tea outside at the River Landing park. We are considering renting a house near there and both struggle with making decisions, planning for the future, and staying in one spot. I think if you are comfortable with a choice it is easy to make, and if it it's not then maybe it's not a good choice. I told her this was a realization I made while shopping for a watch to replace the one I had lost. It took a long time to find a new watch, and in the end I bought won almost exactly like the old one. The story is not really about the watch, nor about the fact that I am a creature of habit, but about how at that moment I realized I can make decisions and I do know what I want. At that time I was rather uncertain about a relationship, and I understood, not really wanting to admit it, that maybe we shouldn't be together. Then I told her another story about shopping for shoes in Spain a few days after I finished the pilgrimmage. I spent a lot of time shopping and in the end didn't buy any shoes. I was stuck with the fact that I needed shoes that would meet the criteria of my last job. It was a job that I didn't want to go back to and emotionally drained from the pilgrimmage it took a lot of energy to decided things. I also told her about decision making advice I have been given in the past. First is to make one decision and think about how you feel, another is the old draw a line down the middle of a page and weigh the pros and cons, and third is not to think to much about deciding. If an unsettled feeling wakes you up at 5:00 a.m., it's not a good sign.

I liked the conversation, and feel rather indifferent about moving into the house (even though it's kind of a big change). It's kind of a bad habit of mine to make last minute decisions and then figure out or stress about the details afterwards. I think my friend would make an interesting roommate, the landlord seems nice, and the house is alright. A one year lease is a little bit scary for people who like to travel, but feel obligated to be little more grown-up and settled now at this stage of life...

Short films
Yesterday I stopped in to see the new exhibits at Mendel. This is one of my favourite galleries because the exhibits are just the right size. They are not so big they overwhelm you, there is a nice amount of Saskatchewan content, and there is always a piece or two of rather unsual art.

I was highly entertained by the short film 'Monkey and Deer' by Graeme Patterson. It brings to life the theme of the dying prairie town with a whimsically animated Monkey and Deer. It reminded of a film I saw earlier this year called 'Three Minute Miracle' by Amalie Atkins. It was something about the music, the prairie landscape and the playful story that made me think of it. The Atkins film is harder to describe but it involves the journey of a young girl carrying a giant cake, and a fantastical and memorable music scene with a group of wolves or bears singing a song about teeth. I hear the film has now travelled to Berlin. On the prairies it seems the wide open spaces lend themselves quite well to imagination and creativity.

Duende
This is a word I learned in a short Flamenco lesson I had in one of my ballet classes back in 1996. It is the spirit or passion of the dance, and something that is a little hard to explain. I remember waking up in the days following that lesson wanting to practice the short pattern we had been taught and intrigued by the dance's magic.

Having since been to a Flamenco performance in Seville, and taken some Flamenco lessons last year in Regina it was neat to be brought back into the space where it started. The dance studio has now become or returned to being a theatre space, and last night there was a performance by the Saskatoon Alma Flamenco dance group. The guest performer was Maria Regnier, a dancer from Calgary and an excellent Flamenco artist. To complete the circle she was also one of the people in my ballet class for that first short lesson, and now having studied in Spain she performs with the duende. I really should take the Flamenco shoes I bought in Madrid in December out of their box.

An Early Saint Jean Baptiste Day
Last night was Saskatoon's Saint Jean Baptiste Day fête at Ecole canadienne française. There were tables and chairs set up in the outdoor skating rink, and a fun show featuring music students from the school and the fransaskois artist François Tremblay. At first I felt a little out of place without having a family with me, but then I met some people in the food line up. I got in line behind François, who I don't really know, but while organizing Francofièvre last year I had gone to one of his shows. I casually spoke with him and the woman behind me. The first question the woman asked us was where we were from, and this is a typical question often asked to find out if your a 'true' fransaskois. Something you just have to ignore. After that there were a few awkward moments because she had never heard of François, nor the fact he was the guest performer that evening, and then for some reason she thought we were a couple. I ended up sitting with the woman (whose name I have now forgotten) and some others from the Friday 5 à 7. I really enjoyed listening to some of the young musicians I had been in touch with last year.

During the show the FFS director was the M.C. and spoke about the upcoming events this summer and in particular the francophone pavilion at Folkfest. This unfortunately will be one of the memorable events of the evening which you will understand if you say the word Folkfest with a French accent, and then imagine someone going on and on enthusiastically about it. Perhaps we should have used the name Mosaic like in Regina for Saskatoon's multicultural summer festival.

In any case Bonne Fête de la Saint Jean Baptiste for those who will celebrate it on the 24th.

Prairie peddling

I think I ride my bike at least once a day. Most of the time I am on the Meewasin trail, a path that follows the Saskatchewan river and takes you most places in the city. Being on the prairies, hills are not so much an issue, it is rather the gophers, or prairie dogs that you have to watch for. I think in my twenty minute ride to the university today I saw at least thirty, and about half dashed accross the path as soon as I got close to them. One of these days it is not going to pretty, but in the meantime they are rather entertaining popping in and out of holes and wiggling on the grass. Here's a photo of one I almost hit today. Please note ground hogs in Saskatchewan are much smaller than the gargantuous, badger-sized ground hogs in Ottawa.

Who is Mommo?

Dress code: Like Mommo choose your family! I have been very puzzled by this note on a party invitation from a friend in France. My first thought was it could perhaps be a reference to the book 'Momo' by Michael Ende, oddly enough the first book I ever read in Spanish. Around the time I read the book, I made friends with a Japanese girl named Momoko, or Momo for short, in my Spanish class in Bilbao. Thirdly, after doing a Google search there seems to be a Turkish film out recently with a double 'm' spelling, but none of these ideas seemed right.

As it turns out I had the wrong movie. Were I French I might have caught the reference to the film called "La vie est un long fleuve tranquille" (Life is a Long Quiet River) a popular comedy from the 90s. I think I would need to see the film before being able to decide on my 'costume,' however I unfortunately will not be able to attend. I did go one year to what I will call the 'hottest' party of my life at my friend's mother's house in a small town outside of Lyon. It was the summer of the heat wave and temperatures were + 50 C. I remember spending most of the time in their pool.

From the invitation I also deduce that PAF means something like BYOB only in this case according to your family you choose to bring a bottle or a dish of something to eat. Parties are definitely more interesting with a theme...

Age perspective
Yesterday was my sister's birthday. She moaned and groaned about getting older now that she is twenty-one. It makes me realize that I don't really care to complain about turning thirty anymore. She didn't want to do anything for her birthday, and I had been thinking the same thing about my upcoming birthdate. After her drama I have decided to organize a potluck on the 27th. It's nice to have a sister to see yourself in the mirror once and a while.

On a similar note, my muscles have been sore the past couple of days because it seems I was not quite in good enough shape for my run. I don't think I was ever really sympathetic enough with Seniors who complain about stairs and low couches. I now can appreciate the struggle of going down stairs or worse yet trying to sit down on the toilet. I am glad this is just a temporary condition to remind me to keep in better shape. Hooray for being young and healthy!

Invented memory

"Notre mémoire est une fiction. Cela ne veut pas dire qu’elle est fausse, mais que, sans qu’on lui demande rien, elle passe son temps à ordonner, à associer, à articuler, à sélectionner, à exclure, à oublier, c’est-à-dire à construire, c’est-à-dire à fabuler." Nancy Huston

I like this quote by the author Nancy Huston, and it is also part of the inspiration behind an art exhibit a friend I met in France is helping design. The photos on the website give you a bit of an idea of what the exhibit is about. http://www.infabula.org/blog/ I am also a bit of a fan of the former Canadian turned French author. It is interesting to think about memories constantly being reinvented in the mind, and the video art installation that juxtaposes different people's stories about their lives. Often when I think about the past I wonder if that is what happened, what someone told me about it. or what I want to think or remember about that time.

Jobs
I finally found out that I still have a job come next week. I found a full-time teaching position contract in my work mailbox this morning. Good to know since my current contract ends Friday. I also got a phone call this evening asking if I could substitute teach a couple of evenings at a newcomer drop-in centre this summer. Guess I won't start handing out résumés tomorrow. My two university classes, plus a full-time job will definitely keep me busy this summer.

Bridge City Boogie
Today I ran 10 km in the Bridge City Boogie. I think that makes my third 10K with my first two being in 2006 in Vancouver for the Sun run and in Ottawa on race weekend. I was signed up with a team from work called the U of S Langwidj Senter Fenetik Fenaetiks (this is not Swedish, rather a phonetic spelling of English). Being the only one from my team in the 10K I hung out more with the Groove Armada team that had some dancing friends on it. Surprisingly I finished the run in a minute or two over an hour. I was rather worried about not having trained enough.

During the run it was fun having my sister Maggie and my Dad cheering at the start of Kiwanis park and my mom as a volunteer road marshall further along on Broadway. My sister commented that it is now full circle for my dad because as a small child I used to help at water stations when he ran marathons. My favourite part of the run was cheering on the musicians and volunteers along the way. My least favourite part was the last kilometre of the race when the runners merged with the walkers. Once you made it through the slow moving herd of walkers often with strollers, the volunteers wanted you to immediately stop and line up for a treat bag just past the finish line. After running 10K your body prefers you to walk a little bit to decelerate. In any case it was a pretty good run.

Le dernier 5 à 7
The FFS (Fédération des francophones de Saskatoon) has organized Friday night socials since September. The translation of 5 à 7 in English is happy hour and the building that houses a number of the fransaskois associations has a small bar, tables & chairs, a dance floor and a foosball table. I have been a bit of a regular on Fridays, helping out behind the bar or taking part in the foosball or 'Baby foot' tournament. My partner Céline and I surprisingly made it to the playoffs without ever winning a game. I think it was because we were the most dedicated team that showed up for all of our games during the tournament which ran from October/November to May. Not sure if my French or foosball has improved much, but usually it was a good time.

Final party toast
I volunteered to give the toast to the students tonight at the final party. I explained it was a reason & examples toast, just like the paragraph style my students work on. My five reasons were: T-O-A-S-T, students are thumbs-up, outgoing, amazing, spectacular, and terrific. I tried to say 'cheers' in different languages: Gan bei or Kampai or Konbe (with different intonations is Chinese, Japanese, and Korean) and Fisehatak (the arabic word can sound similar to Pizza hut in English) However I think my Spanish 'salud' was best pronounced.

Podcasts

Since my iPod gift this fall I have been listening to a couple of podcasts. They are nice entertainment while biking to work or jogging. The English one is of the CBC radio show DNTO (Definitely not the Opera)and it seems now I am a fairly regular listener to Sook-Yin Lee and the guests that she interviews. The Spanish one is even edgier in a science-fiction kind of way. The Rosa Vientos is a late night radio show in Spain that features some of the strangest and fantastical interviews and stories that I have ever heard. I may be developing a strange new vocabulary in Spanish, but at least I am getting some practice in while here in Saskatoon.

Comparing eyes
Today to practice comparatives and superlatives in class I gave students a questionnaire asking things like: 'Who has the biggest hand?' and then 'Who has eyes similar to yours?' When I asked how eyes can be compared I expected answers like colour, size, etc. One student mentioned lines above the eye, and I was rather confused. Actually I still am because I don't notice lines or eyelid creases. Apparently this is a big deal to some people, and some even have surgery to get a 'double-eyelid' vs. a 'single-eyelid.' To me the idea is crazy, but I guess all plastic surgery is in a way.

Carrot soup day
Today is cloudy and could be rainy, but it hasn't really rained. I guess Saskatoon is trying to keep the title of driest spring ever. Because of the mood of the sky I decided to make carrot and ginger soup for supper.

Here is the recipe in case you have winter spring weather chez vous.
2 cups chopped carrots
3/4 cup each, chopped onion and potatoe
1 Tbsp olive oil
900 ml chicken broth
1 1/2 Tbsp fresh ginger root
1/8 ground black pepper
1 Tbsp fresh cilantro

Directions: Cook first three ingredients (about 5min. or until they start to burn if you're like me)
Stir in broth, ginger & pepper (don't be like me and put in too much ginger)
Boil gently for 20 minutes, blend with a hand mixer, and stir in chopped cilantro.
This is a Campbell soup recipe from an old magazine.

Video Experiment
As I have an assignment due next week for which I need to prepare a class activity using a video, I decided today my students would be my guinea pigs. Little do they know about my experimentation. Because of our health unit right now, I chose the film Juno. Their pre-viewing activity was a reading scan of a movie review printed from a website. Then they had eight listening comprehension questions for a five minute clip at the beginning of the film (around the twenty minute mark). For the post-viewing activity I asked them to write three discussion questions on the topics from the film: teen pregnancy, adoption, or abortion. When we started they did not know the word pregnant, and I wondered how much they would get out of the film clip. Overall they got most of the listening questions, but for me the interesting part of the activity was the discussions. One group started with the question: 'What would you do if your girlfriend was pregnant?' Culturally the film was probably a little shocking. From what I understood the treatment for pregnancy before mariage in China would likely be an abortion, and in Saudi Arabia the girl would probably be killed, but no one gets pregnant before mariage. If nothing else one small group was highly entertained by learning the word 'condom' in English. I liked the richness of the video for dialogue and cultural content, so I think the experiment was a success.

Burundese Baby Shower Surprise

Yesterday I had a wonderful time at my friend Anne-Yvette's baby shower. About a dozen women, and some of their children went to our friend Céline's apartment. Earlier in the day Noel, Anne-Yvette's husband had biked over to the apartment to do some work for the Saskatoon French-speaking african society (CAFS). His plan was to have bike problems, and call his wife to come over and pick him up. Luckily she did not go out (actually stayed home to have a nap), and then despite being annoyed he had not take the car in the first place, came over about 45 minutes later. Not only were we waiting, but we also had a webcam connection over MSN to her sister in France. Anne-Yvette was very surprised. At first she hid in the doorway, next she scolded us and then started to cry when she saw her sister. Apparently her sister had only just installed MSN that morning.

In a mixture of French, English and Kirundi we exchanged stories about when we had first met Anne-Yvette, and when we had learned she was pregnant. We played a memory game where 10 baby objects were displayed on the coffee table. They were unveiled for about 30 seconds and then we had to try to write as many of them as we could remember on a paper. Another game we played was to identify objects hidden in baby bottles filled with rice. One had a diaper pin, and the other had a toy baby fireman. A third game involved a ball of yarn and you had cut a piece of string to try to guess the diameter of Anne-Yvette's stomach. The last game was to be blindfolded and try to find as many safety pins as possible in a bowl filled with rice in about 30 seconds. My favourite idea was that we were asked to prepare food for a potluck, but also to make extra so that the couple could have food to freeze for when the baby comes. There was lots of good food, and even a cake that read 'happy baby shower'

I enjoyed playing with the kids. For a while four little girls were 'doing my hair' and surprisingly I left with no knots! I learned another name tradition which is that parents choose a last name for their child, and Anne-Yvette wants her child to have the last name 'Moutoni' which means something like 'honey' or 'sweet.' I was also impressed to have a demonstration of how to tie cloth around your waste to carry a baby. I am not sure if I could do it on my own, but it looked very efficient. I think I should try to spend more time around children because I still like to play.

Here is the link for the rest of the photos.

65 years later

Today is the 65th anniversary of D-day. I received a card two days ago from some friends in Courseulles-sur-Mer , Normandy reminding me that it is the anniversary of their liberation. I found some notes in a journal from 2003 about a woman in the town telling me about the arrival that morning in 1944 of 'aliens,' these machines that moved on water and land. During the eight months I was there I think I walked along Juno beach almost every day. The people gave me a wonderful welcome, told me some incredible stories of memories of the war, shared photos and objects from the war with me, and in some ways I feel like I lived part of the landing experience. Take a minute to learn a little bit about the history http://www.junobeach.org/ or visit a veteran.

Books

Last night I finished reading The Freedom Writers Diary. I would describe it as motivational teacher literature. My mom got a signed copy from the Literacy for Life conference in Saskatoon last month. Erin Gruwell, the teacher from Wilson High School in California, was a guest speaker at the event. She sounds like a very dedicated educator and the way her students journal about the books they read in class makes me think I should try to read a few of them. Most of my real reading these days is about language teaching theory and developing teaching materials for my two CERTESL classes. Though I am always open for fun book reccomendations.

Ultimate Frisbee

My ultimate team Sticky Fingers finally won a game last night. I think the score was 15-8 and it is the first time the team has won a game while I've been playing. We did not do so well in the winter season, but hopefully we'll do a bit better this summer.

Last week, I asked my students to write a reasons & examples paragraph about a sport that they like. I decided to write them a paragraph on ultimate frisbee. While writing, I tried to make their most common errors, and asked them to be the teacher and tell me what corrections I should make. The interesting part of the exercise for me was the challenge to explain grammatically some of the sentences that I wrote using structures they hadn't learned yet.

Ultimate Frisbee is a sport that I like for three reasons. First of all, the games is friendly. The players like to have fun, and cheer loudly on the field. Everyone has great team spirit, they always tried to help others out. Since there are no referees in this sport then both teams tell each other when there is a foul or mistake. The play stops, so the people can move to the correct position. The second reason I like Ultimate is, because of the challenging catches. Sometimes it is very difficult to catch the disc however you need to run very fast. The crazy people dive like Superman to catch the disc. Don’t forget a disc is very light, the wind will occasionally surprise you also an important rule is to always use both hands to catch a disc in case the wind moves it unexpectantly. Finally, Ultimate Frisbee is a dynamic activity. Since the disc can move very quickly the players need to be able to move quicker. For example, a good thrower with no wind, can made the disc go to the end of the field, so you must run fast. Otherwise the game often changes directions. After every point or interception by the opposite team you need, to go towards a different end zone. Therefore, there is a lot of action during every game. Because of the friendly games, challenging throws, and the dynamic activity I enjoy playing Ultimate Frisbee.

It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that Swing
Tuesday evenings have become my swing dancing night. There is a round wooden stage or dance floor built into the new River Landing park. Overlooking the river, you can join in a free intro. lesson at seven and then dance until around ten. For some reason the dance from the 1940s was quite popular during my university days, and Ottawa had and has a great swing dance scene. There are some fun dance scenes in the movies, great music, and generally a friendly crowd that make me really like it. A few weeks ago I was in Edmonton for the Swing Fling dance workshop and it was all about Lindy Hop, which I think is my favourite in the Swing family right now. The instructors were Sharon and Juan and not only are they great dancers, but teachers as well. I have been sending some people this youtube clip I found of them dancing. Enjoy ! The Saskatoon Swing website also has a nice photo right now of the River Landing too.

A Belated Easter Surprise

I just counted and it has now been seven weeks since the Easter rabbit came this year. It also seems it has also been that long since I last washed my sheets. Therefore, I can definitely conclude that I am not a princess since I did not pass the 'pea test'. Not only did I not find the eggs under my pillow Easter night, but now it seems there was another egg. I found traces of it in small brown marks on the sheets, pants, shirts, socks, and underwear that all just went through the wash. The load is now going back through the wash with a smattering of shampoo to hopefully clean away some of the Easter joy. Throughout the year and on different occasions Easter treats are discovered in places the Easter rabbit forgot they were hidden. Having found a small bag of hardened jellies from a past Easter this year, I thought the hunt this time round was over, but I guess not. Beware of the perils of hidden treats.

Behind the scenes and into the mens washroom
Yesterday was Doors Open Saskatoon. I love the event in Ottawa because there are so many interesting and historic buildings to visit. In Saskatoon it is much smaller scale, and every so often you luck out and get an interesting guide. On my short tour I visited the Little Stone School House, the U of S Law Building, the Drinkle Building, and the McLean Block. I have to say my favourite was the Law Building and we managed to get on the tour with the Sustainability Coordinator. She gave us very detailed explanations of the new environmental design. This ranged from the use of Saskatchewan wood for the furniture and wall panels, recycled carpet on lease from a company called Interface, an overview of the rooftop garden, and then into the mens washroom for an explanation of the waterless urinals. One young girl on the tour was very reluctant to follow the group inside. There was merely a detailed explanation, and it lacked perhaps a demonstration. I also enjoyed visiting the Drinkle building No.3 not so much for the detailed display on the early 19th boom of Saskatoon, but the fact that my parents had lived there in the 1970s and have always told us interesting stories about that place. At present it seems like a quiet, modern appartment building with all of the renovations. Back in the day, the shared washroom on their floor definitely made for a lot of stories, especially with the lonely resident who insisted on visiting with everyone when they came down the hall. Here is the link for an exterior Doors Open Saskatoon tour.

From Argentina to India ..while visiting Regina

Last weekend I had a great trip back to Regina. It's now been eight months since I left. It was a trip I thought about for over a month, but only really decided to go a couple days before the weekend. I went with three Regina bus tickets in my pocket and came back with them. Right now in my mind, Regina is the best city to get a ride in, and Edmonton is still the best city in which to be a pedestrian. While leaving the new, modern STC station and walking to the local city bus stop, I ran into a former work colleague and minutes later I was offered a ride.

I had just taken Ravi Khalsa's discovery tango workshop in Saskatoon the previous week, and then arrived at the New Dance Horizon dance studio to take it again (actually for the third time). It was great to see friends from Regina, to be in a delightful dance studio, and to play with the tango. It's a funny dance that is often about improvisation and always about communication. I am always intrigued about how I find myself faced with parts of my personality that are challenges in my 'real life' or non-dance relationships and communication. I had to laugh when I saw my stubborn side come out when trying to work on the Boleo. In previous classes I have often found it hard to trust my partner. I had a crazy thought this week that I should study and compare the Argentine tango and language learning. Two things I am caught up with at the moment.

Now how I managed to get to India was actually by staying at my East Indian friends' house. At one point I was told that a guest is like god and I felt very special. Jayshree prepared a delicious meal for me and then we watched an East Indian film called 'Amal'. I like East Indian films, but I never knew that when you watched one with some lively East Indians there is a delightful, shall I say 3-D experience. The film is not Bollywood, probably majoritarily in Hindi, but it has a great unexpected ending, and really brings you to live the life of a friendly rickshaw driver.

For your own East Indian experience, here are my notes on an Onion Pakora recipe, apparently a monsoon season favourite:
Finely chop with a hand mixer: 2 onions, 1 potatoe, 1 jalapeno pepper, 3 cloves of garlic, 1/3 of a fresh ginger root, and a bunch of cilantro.
Next, mix 4 cups of Chana (chickpea) flour, 1tsp curry powder & garam masala , 1/2 tsp chili powder, cumin & coriander, 1/2 tsp salt & sugar and 1 &1/2 tsps baking soda.
Add approximately 1/4-1/2 cup of water while mixing to make a cup cake-like consistency. Also add about 1 TB hot oil.
Prepare oil to deep fry small spoon fulls of dough to make small meatball like pakora. Cook for about 1 minute until a dark brown. Serve with Tamarind chutney or Mango chili sauce.
Enjoy !
P.S. If anyone has other chickpea flour recipes please share. The smallest chickpea flour bag was 2kg