Three's Company

I had a lovely evening last night, joining in with a friend's women's group from church. As part of the invite, we were instructed to bring three objects of significance, about which we could tell a story.
One hour before the event, I still hadn't even thought about what I could bring (except, briefly, "pictures? Hmmm..."), but I was pleasantly surprised when a quick rummage through my desk drawers and closet revealed at least three items that were both personally memorable and had great stories attached to them.


- Item one: the harmonica
During the spring break of my senior year, my friend Katie, me and four other friends traveled to the west coast (Washington's Olympic peninusla, specifically) to spend a week at Katie's house with her family. One of our adventures while there included a trip to visit Andy Mackie. Andy has spent many of his recent years serving as an advocate for music education. He goes into local schools, he raises money for scholarships, he has created "guitar-in-a-box" kits that can be assembled to create a simple one or three stringed guitar. He also plays harmonica, and standing in his workshop, he handed each of us one of these blue harmonicas in C and promptly taught us how to play "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star."
So this harmonica reminds me not only of that trip, which was a wonderful time spent with good friends, but also all the music-making I shared with those friends and at college in general. Harmonica is very accessible, and in some ways symbolizes how my time at St. Olaf made all kinds of music my own.
I also played a fantastic duet of the Hallelujah Chorus with my friend Sarah on this harmonica, but that's another story.
- Item two: the apron
We celebrated six birthdays in about three months in my community house in DC. Each celebration was unique and fun; this apron comes from the celebration of housemate Callie's birthday. We had all baked cakes, in an impromptu "cake-off" and then Callie presented us all with blank aprons, tie dye and puff paints to each make our own apron. Not only do I really like the way mine turned it, it reminds me of the many good times I had living in the Bon House, and the ongoing value of sharing good food with those you love.
- Item three: the mittens
My most recent item, these are simply a birthday gift from my good friend Chris (technically also a Christina). Moving to Vancouver, going to Regent was a huge transition and a large part of the shock came right around my birthday. I had seen these mittens at the Bay and really wanted a pair, mostly because they were really fun and Canadian. They were the perfect gift at the perfect time--a luxury that I wanted, but couldn't afford; witness to a friend's caring about me; and a reminder that living in Canada was not all grey rainy weather, but also something bright, fun and cheerful.

being Americanadian, hey?

I've started to say "eh?" at the end of sentences. It's over. I'm doomed. You cannot resist the power of the "eh?" (Except, real Canadians don't say "eh?", they say "hey?".)
It's funny to move to a different country where the culture is similar to your home country. If I had moved to a place like, say, Hungary, the "moments of belonging" would be more obvious and profound: I would understand what someone said, bravely ordered something at the meat counter, given directions to a native, etc. Being here, with no language and fewer cultural differences, feeling like I belong in Canada is much more subtle. Thank goodness for hey, hey?

It's funny, but my recent trips to the States revealed to me that I have in fact put down some roots in Vancouver. While I loved my trips to DC and the Midwest (both places that are very dear to me), there was a certain anxiety to "get back home." When I flew into the Vancouver airport, I knew that I was back where I belonged.

That said, my travels to the States also revealed to me how very American I am. Because I've moved around so much, I don't think of myself as from a particular place, but now I know I'm definitely from the U.S. When I came out of the Metro in DC (on the national mall), I looked at the people around me and thought, "These people are Americans too!" and it blew my mind. How great to be among people who grew up in the same country I did, with a shared identity (no matter how small)! In Canada, whenever I talk about my past, there's a tug, a desire to explain my country so that people understand it and know what it's all about. That doesn't mean I think America is perfect. It definitely has a lot of problems. But I *care* about my country and I want to make it better.

So here I am, sandwiched between my surprisingly strong patriotic identity and my growing roots in Vancouver. I'm not totally moved in yet, "homey" feeling notwithstanding. There are still bits of my life that need working out. Last week (or the week before), I heard Jeremiah 29:28 ("Therefore build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce.") referenced multiple times and as my fellow student said, "You might want to think about that."

I am thinking. And I have realized, first, what a miracle it is to have put down roots. I've only been here for two and a half months now. That's a short time! Of course I won't have everything squared away. And this led to a second realization: even though I may be leaving Vancouver sooner rather than later, I don't need to rush the process. The important thing is to take each day as it comes, committed to the place and people it presents. I'm not always so good at this...but like everything else, it's a work in progress. :)

P.S. Dear Canadians: why do you shoot off fireworks on Halloween of all holidays? I understand that your national holiday may not be as enthusiastically celebrated with explosives as in the States, but Halloween? What's up with that?