October 31: Treating, no tricks

Halloween today--my costume is that of a wild haired woman. I spend a few minutes exploring the outer reaches of camp. The Colombians seem to be celebrating Halloween in style.

The sea of vehicles make me wonder why it is so difficult getting cars for our program. But then that is a good sign--it means that we are all working hard, heading out into the community.

My signature 1.3 kg bag of M&Ms makes the rounds. M&Ms might not be Belgian chocolate but they survive most mission conditions!

Here in Haiti, All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day are holidays. While I am working, the rest of the world is on slo-mo. Stores are closed and national staff are off, yet I still managed to put in a good 16 hour day. I welcome Ron, a compatriot here to work on the health promotion. Tomorrow, 2 more Canadian delegates are showing up. The 4 Canadians will dominate the federation' cholera outbreak management team. Just hope we do good.

October 30: On Hurricane Tomas' path

Don’t tell anyone but I crashed the Danish canteen twice today. The rumour has it that the Danish kitchen serves up some very decent food and so far, I have nothing to argue against that. My ‘in’ is the excuse that the rest of the health team all belong to the Danish camp. Djon djon rice is on the menu today, one of my favourites. Djon djon,a tiny flavourful mushroom, is quite a delicacy. The mushrooms are soaked, then strained. The resulting black liquid is then cooked with rice to give the fragrant ‘black rice’. For dinner, we have creme caramel with fresh passion fruit pulp. Yum!

Hurricane Tomas is heading this way--just what we needed--another hazard to add to the mix! Weather modeling programs show a significant chance that the storm will be hitting us. No matter what, we are likely in for some heavy rain in the next couple of days.

October 29: The Four Seasons equivalent of base camps

I am up at 5:30. The bright side of this early awakening is that I get to listen to Matt Galloway. Today’s special live program showcases Toronto’s cultural diversity. Recently, the Hague recognized Toronto as the most culturally diverse city in the world and Thorncliffe is the most culturally diverse neighbourhood of Toronto, where 87% of residents are recent immigrants to Canada.

My taxi driver of the day was not the brightest--he didn’t know the way out of downtown, nor did he know where to stop at the airport. It’s just a small annoyance, taking much longer to get to the airport, then having to walk the length of the airport. I should be grateful for the opportunity to stretch my legs. What I will be doing in Haiti is still one big question mark, but I suspect that I will be either tied to a desk or limited by security issues once I arrive in Port au Prince.

I am getting quite familiar with the Miami airport. I noticed the major upgrades--a shuttle linking the garguantuan airport’s wings, more eateries, and more than one electrical outlet (and without the live wires poking out as I had seen in 2008). I head to the Islander Bar and Grill. The Islander is becoming part of my Haitian routine. Since my first trip to Haiti in 2008, I've learned to appreciate my vegies. It may be a long while before I see salad again. Besides, I am heading into a cholera outbreak so consuming raw vegies is probably not recommended right now.

The soaring sensation at takeoff is still my favourite part of the flight. We fly over the Caribbean, a sea that I have known since childhood. I swam in its waters every Sunday for 6 years while living in Jamaica.

I fly over Port au Prince. Already, one can see changes for the better. Tent cities are now reduced to clusters of about 30 or 40. The airport repairs are well under way--there is now an air conditioned walkway into the makeshift terminal.

I arrive at Red Cross base camp. This place is so well run. The welcome desk, great support staff, good security, leisure activity schedule, and so much more. I think I can camp out here for a while.

October 28: T minus one day

The 36 hours to prepare for my trip to Haiti is a lot more than I had in February, when I had the hours between 6 p.m. and 3:30 a.m. to gather all my things. Unlike a trip to a cushy vacation spot, I have to ensure that my kit includes all the things needed for survival on my own.

I have enough time to cook up a storm--making stir fry with rice, cream of broccoli soup, and mashed potatoes. I suspect that I will not be spending time in the kitchen for a while. That said, I know that as a Red Cross delegate, I might do much more than what my job description says. In March, our camp chef became quite ill and had to be medivaced back to Germany. I ended up taking over kitchen duties along with my public health duties, preparing 3 meals a day for up to 80 expats.

I cancel all my upcoming plans. I guess I'll have to give the William Ashley Sale a miss.

October 27: Small acts with big impacts

Today turned out to be one of those unexpectedly pleasant days after a bad storm that did not quite happen. Wind gusts up to 90 kmh were predicted--not exactly biking weather, but I decided to brave it. Bikes are really the fastest way to get from point A to B in Toronto’s downtown core. I have a whole long list of errands to do and biking between stops makes for a pleasant day out.

One errand involves eating: I am on a reconnoitering mission for my dining group. A sizeable Tibetan community has sprung up in the Parkdale area. Momos and butter tea would be an experience in tune with the ethos of my group (www.meetup.com/foodaholics). Toronto's version of butter tea is made with regular cow’s milk rather than the richer yak’s milk. Yet even then, I didn’t quite develop a taste for it, I’m afraid.

I head to Designer Fabrics' extensive fabric selection for cushion cover material--part of my decor plans. The sewing will have to come much later as my ‘busy life’ dial just turned back up a couple of notches.

The deployment order finally came late this afternoon. I had more than an inkling that the call would come through--should I make plans for the weekend or not? Planning life is difficult when responding to emergency situations is part of one's plans.

I am heading back to Haiti with the Red Cross to respond to the cholera outbreak. This would be a great way to put into practice my newly acquired knowledge from 2 weeks ago. I'll miss watching the World Series. I was planning to take the luxury to watch every game this year, being the huge baseball fan that I am. But then, I would have preferred seeing the Yankees pitting against the Phillies. On my last trip to Haiti, I missed the Olympic gold medal hockey game between U.S. and Canada. My dear friends back home gushed about how it was the game of the century.

Tonight, I went to a screening of ‘A Small Act’, a documentary film that was recommended to me recently. This film is about a human rights lawyer whose life was changed by a simple act. A Swedish woman gave a small sum of money monthly for his primary and secondary school education in Kenya. Such inspiration! If you think that what you can do has little impact on people’s lives, you should see this film. In fact, arrange a private screening of this film among your friends and acquaintances--well worth the effort!

http://www.asmallact.com/

October 26: A dark day in Toronto

I wake up this morning trying to wrap the idea around my head that Rob Ford will become mayor of Toronto. Funny thing--none of my friends and acquaintances admit to voting for this man yet he managed to garner almost half the votes. I am a bit worried about what will happen to the Toronto I have come to love. Will he really tear out all the streetcars? Will using a bicycle downtown become even more hazardous? Will he bankrupt the city with his promised tax cuts? Or will he cut services so that those who have needs outside of the mainstream be ignored?

I head inside the moksha yoga studio, the heat reminiscent of my recent sweat lodge experience, but with more space and less smoke. At long last, I am trying to work on my goal to increase my flexibility and balance. The first 15 minutes was pleasant, but then the intensity dialed up and I am toppling all over the place. I fight the urge to quit, recognizing that this is another trial by fire experience--it is certainly hot enough.

The predicted weather bomb--apparently this is an official meteorological term meaning a rapidly intensifying storm--missed us, so the day in Toronto was just a bit brighter than expected.

October 25: Sharing stories

I’ve been engrossed in Coetzee’s Summertime for most of the day. Once again, his economical use of words leads to evocative story telling.

I tear my myself away from the last few pages to head to my weekly creative writing class. I am getting quite attached to my fellow classmates. We have shared stories that expose the joys and sadnesses in our lives. I must admit though: the creative writing class was not love at first attendance. I missed the exactness of the scientific world--the definitive rights and wrongs.

I fight a conscious battle with my right brain. Then my thoughts turn to the process of creating prose--the euphoric rush that comes from stringing words together to form something. That is why I write.

October 24: Taking a detour through Yorkville

Today, my dining out group meets at Segar, a French style restaurant enhanced with the flavours of the Spice Route. To cap off our brunches with a twist, we head over to Hollywood Gelato for some generous portions of creamy gelato--the nutty nociolla (hazelnut), the rich Valrhona chocolate, the fruity mango--definitely my favourite gelateria in town. To work off a fraction of the calories consumed, I stopped in Yorkville along the way home to window shop. This area has morphed from hippie digs to Canada’s answer to Rodeo Drive. Nowadays, it is an area crammed with art dealers and hair salons, along with some very high end boutiques. I gaze at the Victorian rowhouses in Yorkville, transitioning to the grand old Victorian mansions as I wander into the Annex.

October 23: Scaling new heights

I take the most expensive option up the CN Tower--and it doesn’t even include an elevator ride up. Twice yearly, the CN Tower opens its stairs for fundraising purposes. At my last climb in 2005, the CN Tower was the tallest freestanding structure in the world. This record was eclipsed recently by the Burj Kalifa in Dubai. I take the 1776 steps to the top, hoping to beat my time from 5 years ago, but alas, that was not to be. A good sign that my body is getting older is that even with my best effort, I added 5 minutes to my previous time, finishing the climb at 32 minutes and 21 seconds.

I gaze down to view the nearby skyscrapers, dwarfed by my current height. I dare to walk across the glass floor, peering vertiginously down 342 metres (1120 feet) to the ground below.

The International Festival of Authors, one of the largest festivals of its kind, is going on nearby at Harbourfront Centre. This year’s lineup includes Farley Mowat, the author of one of my favourite childhood stories, Owls in the Family, and the quintessentially Canadian Never Cry Wolf. He seldom appears in public so I took this rare opportunity to hear him. For a recluse, he is quite the entertainer.

October 22: Happy Friday--sitting in Q's audience

I must admit I have a bit of a crush on Jian Ghomeshi. What’s not to like? The sonorous voice, the knack to carry an intelligent conversation, a cool drummer’s aura, and oh yes, fluid eyes that are bestowed exclusively by Persian gods. So when I heard that there are free rush tickets for a live audience for Q, I was so there. I lined up by 7:45 to snag one of the tickets. I knew full well that I was not going to be the only one in line. The original tickets were gone within 90 minutes.

Q started with Jian’s opening monologue about book censorship and Rohinton Mistry. As you readers may remember from earlier this week, I’m a real fan of Mistry’s writing. Montreal’s indie band, the Stars, were present as the special musical guests. I was impressed with Bob Rae (ex-premier of Ontario and currently Liberal member of parliament) and his intelligent thoughts.

Emma Donaghue, one of this year’s Man Booker prize nominees, talks about her first, and maybe last manicure, “Femininity takes too much time.” I agree wholeheartedly, never having been able to keep the polish neat as I can seldom spend a half hour doing nothing except wait for polish to dry.

Snow fell just outside the city last night and there is a definite chill in the air today. I am not ready to put my bike away for the winter so bundled up and headed out to the Leslie Spit for a nice long ride. The head wind provided more exercise than I bargained for.

Leslie Spit is a long arm that extends into Lake Ontario. It is temporary home to a great number of migratory birds. Yet today, there was not a bird around. They must have used their birdbrains and realized that this is no climate for birds and have fled south.

In fact, there was minimal fauna seen--just the 10 or so cyclists, who like me, decided that riding in the cold is better than no riding at all.

October 21: Hypersalivating

It has been almost a year since my trip to India. (You may want to check my travel blog at:

http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog/thetraveller88/3/tpod.html)

Yet after all these passing months my salivary glands have not slowed down at the thought of chaat. Chaat is really just Indian snack food and comes in various forms.

I watched in rapt attention the preparation of chaat just outside the Jantar Mantar in Jaipur. A family from Gujarat was so amused by my fascination that the father purchased some for my tasting. I would not have eaten raw food off a street stand but accepted the proffered gift lest I offend. The chaat was delicious! I have been making my own version of chaat since, a healthy lowfat version that I cannot seem to stop eating. [This also means that I put my Shuttle Chef, a most thoughtful and useful Christmas present that my parents have given me, to good use, allowing me to cook beans to perfection without much prep time nor energy.] This one is full of protein and vitamins with no ghee/oil/butter/fat in sight.

Chaat

Chickpeas 1 can (or better yet, cook from dried beans)

Tomato 1 medium, diced into 1/4 inch cubes

Lime juice 1 lime

Shallot 1 small, finely diced

Jalapeno 1/8 of pepper, finely chopped, or to taste

Chaat Masala To taste (available at Indian grocers for about $2/pack)

Coriander 1/2 cup, chopped, or to taste

Mix chickpeas, lime juice, shallot, jalapeno, and chaat masala. Chill for an hour if time permits. Mix in tomato and coriander.

Serve and enjoy.

This evening, I attend Chris’ retirement party. I have worked with Chris at Toronto Public Health’s Crossways Clinic for the past 10 years and will miss her dearly when at the next work shift, her smile is no longer there to welcome me. An added bonus today: Chris introduces me to her writer husband, Frank Paci, who is generous with his writing advice.

October 20: Babbling away--Toronto style

I finally made it to Toronto Archives to get started on my writing project. While this project is one of the main reasons I have decided to take a year off work, I must admit that at times, I am a bit ambivalent about it. I register and start digging into the historical aspects of my topic.

Two hours later, I walk out a bit bug-eyed--time to heal the eyes with some beauty, so I head to the AGO (Art Gallery of Ontario).

Today is the first opportunity to preview AGO’s new Shape of Anxiety exhibit, showcasing Henry Moore’s signature reclining figures along with other organically crafted abstract pieces. My favourite is a small lead piece on loan from MOMA. However, there are loads from the home collection as this is a city with lots of Henry Moore’s.

Who is Henry Moore? You may not know his name but have likely come across his art. He was one of the most influential sculptors of his day, known mainly for his abstract fluid pieces of public art. The love affair between Torontonians and the artist goes back to the 1950’s when Viljo Revell, the Finnish architect of Toronto’s City Hall, recommended that a Henry Moore piece grace the front of his modernist building. Outcry erupted surrounding the purchase. How can the city justify spending a sizeable sum of public funds for a piece of artwork that many deemed overpriced and unpleasing to the eye? The city council voted down the expenditure, but the mayor spearheaded a private fundraising campaign, raising the needed $123,400. The controversy cost Mayor Givens his job.

On Oct 26, 1966, Three-Way Piece No. 2: the Archer was revealed (see photo in yesterday’s blog).

Years later, Henry Moore approached the Tate Gallery in Britain to set up a gallery space dedicated to his works. The Tate turned him down. Moore remembered how the people of Toronto embraced his art, so he approached the AGO to offer a sizeable part of his collection--London’s loss was Toronto’s gain. Today, the AGO holds the largest public collection of Henry Moore art in the world.

I contemplate spending a quiet evening at home--a tempting but fleeting thought. A few months ago, someone had gushed about a new group called Babel, where people gather to converse in some of the 140+ languages used on a daily basis in Toronto. Tonight would be the first opportunity to check it out. I got a chance to speak a lot of English and French, a smattering of Spanish, and a few words of Russian and just the standard greetings in Turkish, Korean, and Arabic. This is great fun! I vow to dig out my Russian books and brush up a bit before my next attendance.

October 19: Burrowing my nose in a book

I love libraries. This love started shortly after a Dr. Seuss dictionary was placed in my hands.

In the past few years, I endeavour to read at least 2 books each month. Some months, I manage to read up to 9 books, eschewing television for the pleasure of the written page.

Last night, Beth Kaplan, my creative writing class instructor at Ryerson, asked, “What are you reading?”

That was when I came to the realization that it has been a long time since I’ve read a book for its beauty of words. So my goal today is to find a book for its literary merit, a book crafted by an accomplished wordsmith.

We in Canada are very lucky to have some great authors. My opinion is that Canadians spend such a large chunk of the year immersed in frigid temperatures that we have developed the coping mechanism of book burrowing as a tactic for mental, physical, and emotional survival. Thus, the creation of a market for well-written books.

My favourites? Rohinton Mistry’s A Fine Balance and Family Matters are close to the top of my list. He is such a master storyteller, weaving rich descriptions and juxtaposing mundane with the extraordinary. Then there is Carol Shields, another accomplished raconteuse. Before she died in 2003 of breast cancer, she left a rich literary legacy with The Stone Diaries, Larry’s Party, and Unless. Wayson Choy leads me back to a time reminiscent of my childhood in Vancouver as a Chinese Canadian in The Jade Peony, and the companion story, All That Matters.

A couple years ago, I won a tall stack of books from CBC Radio. Among the selection was a book by Barbara Gowdy, Helpless. This book about a child abductor is so successful in portraying a human being whom society would consider the worst of ogres. I consider it to be one of the best kept publishing secrets around.

I browse through the library stacks and happen upon John Coetzee’s Summertime. This looks promising. I had liked a previous read of his works. I picked Disgrace out of the bargain bin at Judd Bookstore in Bloomsbury, London in 2002 as I was returning home to my dorm room after a long day of epidemiology classes at the London School of Hygiene & Tropical Medicine. I was taken by his careful use of words leading to spare yet rich prose. Coetzee subsequently received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2003. I”ll let you know how Summertime goes.

I returned home the long way. I pass Henry Moore's "The Archer". This is a good preamble for my plans for tomorrow. I wander through the streets of Chinatown, pick up a snack in Kensington Market, and browse through the shoe shops along the way, just enjoying the city that I call home.

October 18: (Thanksgiving + one week) Day

I decided that today I will celebrate Thanksgiving a bit more traditionally than what I had done last week. Almost-- I baked my tofurky and potatoes but really was more into catching up on my sleep and rest than eating.

For those of you who have been following my blog religiously, I must apologize. Between the crazy schedule that I had in Val d'Or and a kink in my photo sorting program, I have not been able to update this blog recently. However, a good hour spent at the Apple Store fixed most of that and I've updated my most recent posts. Apple Store's One to One is a great deal: unlimited tutorials over one year for the low price of $99. I certainly made good use of it and have extended the service for a second year. It has set me on my way to being a techie.

For my creative writing class tonight, I had written a piece about baking so thought that I should bring some homemade goodies to go along with it. I’m a bit out of practice in the baking department so after a long time amassing all the ingredients, creaming the batter, and rolling out the dough, I came up with some rugalach. These are Jewish crescent-shaped cookie-like pastries that just melt in your mouth. I make them with a twist, substituting cranberries for raisins to give an extra bit of tartness.

October 17: Homeward bound (again!)

I was keen to show my roommate of the night, Yukiko, a bit of Montreal so headed back up Mont Royal. Besides, a week of maximal eating and minimal exercising required some remedial regimen. What a difference a week makes. Parc Mont Royal morphed from a crown of flaming red and golden hues to a barren treed scape.

We meandered through McGill University, pass the water reservoir and treatment plant, and down steep Peel Ave, admiring the staircases that is almost ubiquitous in Montreal architectural styles.

Today’s agenda: evaluations, last minute shopping, long goodbyes, then homeward bound.

I head over to Patisserie Belge, my favourite bake shop in town, to load up on chaussons aux pommes (apple turnovers, French style) and Opera pastries, to consume over days while back in Toronto.

A quick commute--Porter's intercity shuttle drops me off at the Billy Bishop Toronto city airport.

I get home, drop off my bags, then head out to improv class. The fatigue of the week sets in halfway through the class. The minutes couldn't crawl by any slower until I could crawl between my own 800 count Egyptian cotton sheets and sleep.

October 16: Morphing into a cosmopolitan lifeform

I survived! I survived sleeping in a cabin heated by a wood stove in near freezing temperatures for a week. I’ll be waking at 4 a.m. to stoke the nonexistent fire for days to come, I think.

We packed up, said goodbyes to our gracious hosts, Jacques and Carolle, then headed out for the long trip back to Montreal.

We made good time as most of us were looking forward to a long hot shower and some shopping.

I headed out for what has become a must-stop in Montreal: Juliette et Chocolate. This is a chocolate bar, the equivalent of a wine tasting experience for chocolate. Imagine--getting brandy snifters filled with hot chocolates where the ingredients are sourced from various parts of the world. Is that a hint of fruit? Or wood? Maybe nuts? I go for the classic hot chocolate a l’ancienne. So oncteuse! (The English translation really doesn’t do this word justice--it means something like thick and rich.)

After more shopping and wanderings around town, we (Yukiko, my new roommate, and I) head back to the hotel to prepare for the celebratory dinner. After all the grunginess that comes with intense mission-like conditions, we managed to clean ourselves up pretty well and appeared quite presentable, returning to a state in tune to Montreal’s cosmopolitan vibe. This will be our last meal together as a group--a group that has shared so much in such a short period of time. Dinner was a celebration of accomplishments of the past week.

October 15: Global Handwashing Day

"Wash your hands, wash your hands," we go through the motions to the tune of Frere Jacques.

Today is Global Handwashing Day. It was serendipity that the program that we had chosen to implement was to highlight handwashing. We regrouped at 7 a.m., a bit excited, and a bit nervous, as we do our final prep for our big presentation today. All runs smoothly. Supervising the kids going through a thorough handwashing was such great fun.

We return to base, on a high that comes with a job well done.

We dared to take a few minutes to gear down, shared experiences, then wrapped up the didactic part of our tightly scheduled week.