antics in canada: laci green, street poutine and unwanted physical contact (weeks 3 & 4)

Return to Wreck Beach

Week 3 was relatively uneventful – we were all recuperating from Banff and deadlines/midterms have started to flow in unfortunately.

  

Friday night we went to Richmond night market again. Deep-fried cheesecake is lush for about 3.5 bites but do not overestimate the power of your stomach on this Everest of confectionery items.

On Saturday morning we went to the Etsy Canada market, which I was expecting to be HUGE, like in a warehouse somewhere, but it was fairly small - maybe about 40 stalls in a square where a little ice-skating rink is usually set up. There were some amusing cards with lots of puns and cute pictures which I spent a bit too long standing around laughing at. Who can resist a pun, really?

After this we went to a shopping centre because we’re all a bit short of clothes having packed light, and then thrift store shopping. We went to Lady Madonna’s, which is a tiny dark little thrift store with tonnes of amazing clothes crowded onto the racks. I impulsively bought a couple of ‘60s skirts.

That evening we had ‘Gage Goes Classy’, which was a semi-formal dinner put on by our RAs (the building we live in is called Walter Gage). There was a curious mixture of butter chicken (they ran out of chicken mid-way through), spicy mac’n’cheese and some kind of thick focaccia-like cheeseless pizza – the vegan option, I guess. We may have snuck in a couple of drinks because we are not nor will we ever be ‘classy.’ The entertainment was a pretty great jazz band – the saxophonist was awesome – and a couple of magicians from the UBC Magic Club. The part of this which sticks in my head is one of them appearing to swallow a needle on a string which really grossed me out. I couldn’t see much because a couple came and plonked themselves down in front of me and I hate attention so much that I won’t even stand up at the back of a seated crowd. After that we had a wee little party at our flat which was fun but then someone got really sick and thus did the fun end.

On Sunday night the Astronomy Club hosted an observation of the blood moon eclipse on a hill near the Museum of Anthropology which was really cool. The moon rose up between two huge fir trees and it was really beautiful – huge and a sort of muddy red, though the constant blinding flashes from people’s iPhone cameras were somewhat diverting. We didn’t watch the full thing because we were getting cold (although my Australian friend would have me point out it was the English folks who were complaining of cold first), and wanted hot chocolate.

On Monday we went to the ‘Best Sex Ever’ talk by Laci Green who is brilliant. She’s a public sex educator who runs really great, accessible and hilarious videos on YouTube informing people – particularly young people – about sex. There was more sex education in that evening than in 7 years of Catholic high school, none too surprisingly. I have never seen a picture of a vagina projected onto such a large screen before.

The highlights were a hilarious animation of a penis becoming erect, Laci describing US anti-vaccination sentiment as ‘the dumbest shit of my [her] life,’ and explicitly and extensively detailing consent and the fact that NO ONE EVER EVER ASKS TO BE SEXUALLY ASSAULTED. BECAUSE THEY DON’T SO NEVER EVER VICTIM/SLUT-SHAME/BODY-POLICE ANYONE EVER. It felt a bit like she was preaching to the converted – most people in the audience were feminist-y seeming folks who overwhelmingly clapped and/or cheered every time she said something feminist-y which was an awesome space to be in. I’d love to catch me some misogynists though, if only they were visually detectable, and sit them down in a room with Laci Green videos on loop.       

Apart from sunset at Wreck Beach one evening, the rest of the week was a bit of a blur of lessons and cram-reading and last-minute essay writing.

90s Ellens

On Friday we went to an Irish pub for a 90s night. There was a funny guy called Cody who suddenly appeared and asked if we were ready to ‘twirl’ him and kept reappearing throughout the night throwing some amusing shapes. The DJ was a nice Glaswegian guy who was really good about taking requests (though he turned down Parklife because he said no one there would know it). My highlight was Lady Marmalade. There were also some sleazy guys who kept coming up to each of us saying ‘you’re really pretty, would you like to dance?’ and persisting despite being turned down many a time.

The same lads followed us down the street for an irritatingly long time trying to get us to go somewhere with them. We shook them off and forged ahead to Mean Poutine, which serves amazing poutine and is open 24 hours.

Downtown at about 2am

Someone cut in front of me in the queue so I got all indignant. His mate, who I had never met in my life, grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me saying ‘What’re you gonna do?!”, which initially pissed me off but then I got free poutine from the one who cut in front. When asking the free-poutine-guy to clarify if he’d said he was from Seattle, his mate nudged me all cheeky-like and said ‘Does he LOOK like he’s from around here?’, referring to the guy being Asian. I replied ‘You know white people aren’t from around here right?’ After which we got into a debate about Indigenous rights. 

Despite me telling him current statistics and stories I’d been learning in class and online, his argument was pretty much that the struggle for Indigenous rights ought to be left in the past. Just as he asked me ‘What happened to the Indigenous people of Britain, eh?!’ we had to go catch our bus, and thank fuck for that. I get too tripped up by awkwardness and anger to be any good at coherently demonstrating to people their own ignorance.

Gig toilet graffiti

On Saturday Ellen and I went to the Biltmore Cabaret to see a band I really like, Titus Andronicus. We got extremely lost on the way there and back. The support was Baked and Spider Bags, both of whom are pretty sick. Patrick, the frontman of Titus, started the gig by telling people to show some respect and not be enforcing their physical presence on others. I thought this was really cool, although he was of course jeered at by loads of dudes. As expected, it was pretty rough. Halfway through Patrick reiterated what he’d initially said, telling us he used to be that way and that he hates his younger self. He also pointed out that this behaviour was kind of weird anyway since he was singing a lot about his experiences with manic depression. It’s really annoying that if you want to go anywhere near the band you like, you have to be prepared to get violent or be crushed. I used to love moshing back when I was actively self-destructive.

And then I just got majorly pissed. I was really getting into it but kept feeling the hand of the guy next to me brushing my hips and arse…I figured it was accidental as there was a lot of jostling going on. He then wound his arm round my hips so I moved away and tried to stand behind him. Apparently not getting the message, he then went to stand close behind me again. So Ellen and I went to the other side of the crowd and I felt grossed out and pissed off for the rest of the gig. I really am disgusted by the scene and its offensively overt masculine physicality. Girls to the fucking front, to reference Kathleen Hanna. It brought up a lot of turbulent feelings about things that have happened in the past, to me and to friends, so I spiralled into a bit of a hole.

We actually met Patrick Stickles at the end of the night and I told him a lot of his fans seem to be fuckboys. He apologised, which wasn’t necessary because it isn’t his fault and he’d even tried to talk people down. He then said it’s difficult for weak folks - he’s really small and thin (but with a GREAT BIG bushy beard) – but added drily that we shall inherit the earth. Maybe so, but in the mean time I'm sick and tired of having to guard the borders of my own body.

Getting lost has its benefits

On Sunday evening we went to a Disney Marathon but only stayed for the Lion King because really we were there for the free pizza and had lots of work to do.

Copious amounts of work may well be my new blog theme.

In the meantime, the Conservatives have gotten into 1st position in the polls after cracking down on niqab-wearing and pledging to set up some kind of hotline for reporting 'barbaric cultural practices.' So, that's shit. I suppose I was getting a bit homesick, some Islamaphobia should make me feel like I'm back home. Here's a good article by Sheema Khan about how it feels to be a Muslim woman living in Canada right now.

Peace. 

antics in canada: karaoke, banff and james joyce's fingers (week 2)

Me, cold but chuffed on an actual glacier
(Apologies for the weird vignette, my camera lens is being terrible)

On Monday night we went to karaoke at The Pit on campus which was amusing. At one point there was a load of fratboys who impressed no one by piling onto the stage like So Solid Crew. We ordered poutine to share which was damn tasty, and just before we left a guy who’s also from UEA did an amazing growly rendition of All Along the Watchtower. 

Classes were the usual mixture of awesome and angering and depressing, particularly given that one piece of reading was the Amnesty International report ‘Stolen Sisters’ which is a huge compilation of stats and case studies on abused, murdered and missing Indigenous women in Canada. In a nutshell, the figures are staggering, absolutely horrifying. And Stephen Harper that same week said this issue was ‘not on his priority list.’ I imagine at some point I will write a separate series of posts about current events and politics in Canada, because there is so very much to say.

On the other hand, my modernism teacher continued pootling along in his eccentric way. His first tangent was telling us he hangs around outside cinemas so he can ask people what they thought of the films they watched because no one reads books on buses any more. Then later he suddenly told us how much James Joyce loved his own fingers because he’s always showing them off in photographs. I did a search and he does often put his hands in prominent positions…

On Wednesday Ellen, Andrea and I got up early for FREE PANCAKES and we queued twice and it was great. Sadly when we reached the front of the queue they stopped letting people administer their own syrup, and the most miserly guy took over before monitoring the girl who took over from him.

Not much of note happened the rest of the week until we went to lovely Banff National Park up in Alberta...        

We caught the coach at 6pm, and basically what followed was a pretty hellish experience of trying to sleep for 12 hours and not succeeding. I spent a lot of the night staring at the pitch blackness surrounding the coach and feeling a bit weird, with the occasional headlamps of oncoming cars floating towards us. Ironically I only felt sleepy about fifteen minutes before we reached Banff. I perked up when the rising sun started to illuminate the huge mountains towering along the roadside.

A big ol'train

The bus station and info centre where we got off the coach was right next to an open railroad, and a huge freight train roared past which I can only describe as looking and sounding American. Alberta being further north and inland, the temperatures were a lot colder than Vancouver.

Cheeky squad pic in the middle of the road

We then headed to our hostel, the Samesun, which is definitely for young travellers looking to drink beer together in the hostel bar. And, y’know, hike and such. We stored our luggage and headed to a restaurant next door for bacon and maple syrup pancakes which were glorious but for some reason served next to a pile of fried potatoes.

Thus stuffed we moseyed around town for a bit. The town of Banff itself is very small, with one main shopping street, and is quite touristy. We wandered along Bow River and then found the Buffalo Nations Museum which was pretty tastelessly, in my opinion, designed like an Old West fort. We didn’t go to it in the end because it was $10 and just seemed to be a small hall filled with mannequins of First Nations people sitting outside wigwams.

One of the views from our tiny bean of a mountain

Then we climbed Sleeping Buffalo Mountain (or ‘Tunnel Mountain’ as the settlers named it) which was hard although it’s meant to be the easiest peak in that area. We got a lovely view of the valley and surrounding mountains. Strangely there really wasn’t a lot of wildlife at all. I had been expecting to see a lot more birds but apart from several magpies and a hovering buzzard, no luck.

A cool tree

We went back into town and bought some amazing popcorn before returning to the Samesun for showers, grabbing a margarita in the bar (they have different drinks specials every day of the week) and going to a nice brewery for dinner. We went to bed early as we were all shattered and had to be up early for our tour tomorrow, despite the allure of karaoke and value tequila in the hostel bar.

Some mountain near our hostel

The weather on Sunday was miserable but we still had fun. Our minibus picked us up at 8.15am and we piled on. The tour guide, Nate, gave us some information as we travelled towards the lakes and higher peaks of Banff National Park. He added in a fair few Aboriginal names and histories of places which was good.

The Trans-Canada Highway cuts through lots of natural habitats, through which animals are of course inclined to move, so when the roadkill got too high overpasses and underpasses were built exclusively for the wildlife. We passed Castle Mountain, which is pretty epic-looking and includes Eisenhower Tower, which wasn’t called that for a while because Eisenhower did something I can’t remember to offend Canadians.

Lake Louise

Our first stop was Lake Louise, which is an extremely beautiful tourist hotspot where a massive luxury hotel has been built. The intense blue of the lake is typical of the lakes in this area, a result of mountain particles stripped away by the movement and melting of ice. These particles emit several colours, all of which are absorbed apart from blue, which is reflected. That’s a very brief and probably erroneous explanation because I really don’t have a memory for scientific knowledge or stories about Eisenhower.

We took a load of pictures, mooched around the hotel gift shop, looked at the hotel workers’ funny Swiss-mountaineer-style uniforms, and returned to the bus late because we all needed the loo and coffees at the last minute. Nate told us how the hotel workers wear those uniforms because silly visitors used to get lost in mountain storms and fall down gorges so they enlisted lots of Swiss guides. Probably because they’d pissed off and/or killed off the original inhabitants who might also have helped by this point.  

Peyto Lake

The next stop was Peyto Lake, also stunning blue. The viewing point was high up so we were able to see the point where the silt filters into the lake before appearing blue. On returning to the bus I saw some of the group looking into the trees and shrieking at something small and fluffy [understandably] running away from them. Turns out it was a li’l chipmunk scurrying along with a mushroom in its mouth. If I’d seen that my life would be complete.

The next notable stop was the high point – literally – of the tour: the Althabasca Glacier in the Columbia Icefields. We were piled on coaches for about 5 minutes taking us from the tourist centre to the ice buses, which are very leaky and 60s-looking and had massive tires. Because the majority of people on our bus were Japanese, the tour info was given in Japanese, so we were bewildered by the odd burst of laughter and at one point the alarming sight of all the people in front of us suddenly standing up sounding shocked as if something bad had happened. That went unexplained.

Going up the glacier

The glacier itself was absolutely beautiful. The higher you go, the bluer the ice. We were allowed to get out after the comforting announcement that we were stepping out of the bus ‘at our own risk.’ It was, as you’d expect, freezing. There was an unpleasant sleet battering into us on the icy wind. We filled our bottles from the stream and shuffled around very carefully on the slippery surface. I hate walking on ice back home so it was quite unnerving, but also an incredible experience.

It was strange to be standing on top of this beautiful, solid thing which to my mind looms monolithically as some kind of mythical, far away object, a symbol in the global imaginary of environmental instability and our carelessness of it.

Unsurprisingly, the information we were given in English on the way back down included nothing about glacial recession or climate change in general. That’s not really a selling point for a company selling tickets for massive chugging glacier coaches. Nate gave us some cheery facts back on the bus, such as the prediction that there will probably be no glaciers left in North America by 2100, which is desperately sad in itself but also scary in that 90% of North America’s drinking water comes from glaciers. Not to mention the ol’rising sea levels globally. Looks like we’re all in for a wild ride lads.

Bow Lake

On the way back, altitude fatigue set in as we’d been warned and most of us slept. There was one last stop at Bow Lake, which curves around a huge mountain, before returning to Banff where we were dropped off at the Samesun. We had dinner there and a nice pint of local Beaver Beer before getting back on the bus for 12 more hours of psychological purgatory broken up by breaks in depressing fluorescent-lit overnight gas stations.

I don’t know if I can fully explain how it feels to be surrounded by such staggeringly huge mountains. Their peaks just kept rising higher and higher into the mists. Symbols won’t do it justice. A photo does not convey that crushing and euphoric sensation of smallness you get, and words are terribly inadequate after all. I’m trying very hard, you can probably tell. I don’t want to be too cheesy but I just kept thinking of a line from one of my favourite songs, Holocene by Bon Iver, ‘And at once I knew/I was not magnificent.’ To stand at the bottom of a mountain, at the edge of a vast azure lake or in the shadows of a swathe of massive pines is to be humbled, to fully realise your own transience.

Anyway, enough babbling. My point is I'm fairly keen on mountains. Banff was absolutely worth the 24-hour-plus round trip and it’s a shame we didn’t have more time there. I would highly recommend going if you happen to find yourself in Alberta.         

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If you're interested, this is Holocene. The video's very appropriate: