old dreaminess

festive family portraits

more photos here

la vie boheme et bilangue

It's our last night in Montreal until the new year, and the semester came to a close with a musical finale. Tonight we went to see The Dears play a hometown show. It was fantastic. I'm sure Brian will provide more details shortly. Let's just say that any musician who ever gets songwriter's block, would find him/herself instantly cured after hearing/watching The Dears work their magic.

I spent the day at work, just me and a girl from France in the Learning Centre. We were speaking Franglais and laughing at how poorly we speak each other's language. But we were still trying to speak slowly enough to make sense of eachother. Sometimes I feel like a foreign exchange student in this newly-anointed "nation within a nation." Brian thinks he can tell francophone and anglophone people apart by their fashion sense and facial hair. Considering the fact that my sweatpants and scuffed skate shoes were glared at by the doorman at La Senza the other day, you can guess which side of the fashion sense binary we anglos fall on.

I speak French as often as I can, for the health of my mind as much as for the sake of politeness. It's good for the intellect, they say, to keep the mind working in more than one language. Seeing as I won't be in Tanzania for the next little while, my Swahili usage is on hiatus. Speaking of Tz, I want to thank everyone for the contributions they have mailed me, or have given me in person. I'll be sending them off to Sikitu very soon, and your generosity will be very much appreciated.

So, first term has come to an end. In the last 2 weeks I've written more than I did all of last year, I'm sure of it. While my mind has hovered dangerously close to short-circuting, and my muscles are turning to mush, it's been swell. Instead of doing the usual semi-comatose couch lazing thing over the break, I'm looking forward to brisk walks and winter activities...if it ever snows, that is.

I was sitting in an Irish pub last night, drinking with my classmates after finishing my LAST paper. After a few hours, a man wearing a red coat gave me "the gun" and said "Good luck with that," only to disappear mysteriously out the door. Two minutes later the server brought a round of drinks over to our table, compliments of mystery man. How did Santa know another pint of cider was my pre-Christmas wish of the moment?

Maybe it's the vampire novel I'm reading, but lately I've been becoming aware of the nocturnal underworld of all sorts of characters that lurk in doorways, alleyways and local dives. I keep overhearing creepy conversations, see people sic their dogs on other people, and shake my head to turn down street drugs. Our neighbourhood lies just on the outskirts of the posh shopping district. Not long after passing Holt Renfrew, Ogilvy and Betsey Johnson, and before reaching the rich, English neigbourhood of Westmount, you pass through our area. It's a seedy couple of blocks, with places like Club Octopussy and Sexe Cite, and freestylying bilingual vagabonds, and old men yell at eachother over who is the bigger crackheads.

Last night a strange man yelled to my friend and I that we needn't worry about finding a cab, cause he had a limo for all the ladies, yo! Tonight a drunk guy tried to mug me. It was the worst mugging attempt I've ever seen. I laughed in his face, Brian stood there and watched, we asked him if the Habs had won the game, and we went on our way. As we left, his friend yelled after me that he loved my glasses. It's moments like these, my friends, that make memories.

I'm off to Toronto tomorrow, for a few days with the girls, before heading home. I am going to miss the food around here, especially the holy trinity of Montreal cuisine: bagels, smoked meat, and poutine. And now, before I sign off, a few pre-holiday food recommendations.

Source Cherry Chocolate Fondue Yogurt
Mojito chicken
Calabaza soup

And, my newest creation: Carmelized brussel sprouts au gratin

Ingredients:
20 or so fresh brussel sprouts
2 tbs olive oil
1-2 tbs milk or cream
small amount of green onions, chopped
1/4 cup crackers or breadcrumbs
1/2 tsp salt
pepper to taste

Method: Cut the bottoms off of the brussel sprouts, and slice an "x" into the base. This helps them cook better. Boil or steam brussel sprouts for approximately 15 minutes or until halfway cooked. Drain sprouts, and transfer into baking pan. Drizzle with olive oil, and milk/cream. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Toss to ensure that the sprouts are coated in the oil and cream. Sprinkle breadcrumbs or cracker crumbs over top. Bake at 350 degrees for 1/2 or so, or until carmelized to your liking.

More food recipes to come during the holidays.

more tense than awkward?

“We condemn most in others what we most fear in ourselves”

-Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Hot chocolates and petit desserts are my best friends/worst enemies right now. They're good for the soul, and the student's morale, but not so good for my ever-expanding grosh 15 (grad student frosh, 15 pounds...well, maybe 5 pounds, but it doesn't feel pretty either way).

My body is lacking exercise, and daylight. I write all night and sleep til noon. I'm going to get rickets any day now. 4 hours of sunlight is not cutting it anymore. Soon I'll have to invest in one of those artificial sun lamps for people with basement rooms or Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).

I was thinking more about sawk, or general awkwardness. I’ve decided to write off analyzing the gossip hens, and just vow not to become one. But, after talking to a few people, I’ve realized that what I was referring to as social awkwardness, is really just tension caused by changing lives and insecurity. I can’t really pass judgement on what it is like to be a proud mom, a bitter mom, or even menopausal. I can, however, talk about twentysomething tension with a fair degree of accuracy…I think.

I know I’ve talked about this before, but now that the holidays are coming up, I realize more than ever that things are not what they once were. Friendships are evolving, revolving, dissipating, and reappearing. Jobs are starting, ending or put on hold for other pursuits. Not all of us have equal amounts of money jingling in our pockets, equal education under our belts, or equal experiences with family, love, or traveling. I’m writing in general terms here, but:

But does difference of current situation mean we should turn away from each other?

Different pursuits, setbacks or accomplishments shouldn’t erase histories of relationships, but they seem to.

We used to be attracted to the things that were different or quirky about each other. Why should the trajectories of these quirks divide us?

Maybe we trust each other more than we think, and we’re diverging for a while, only to return later, once our issues have been tackled.

Do we see past versions of ourselves in our friends, and turn away from what we have tried to grow out of? Is a rekindled friendship like coming home to yourself?

I apologize for getting so sappy on you all. It's my tension talking.

SAWK

I've been trying to figure out if sawk (social awkwardness) dwindles over time, or if it just worsens as we get older.

Most people would probably argue that the early teen years of voice cracks, the sudden need for deodorant, and unrequited schoolyard crushes are the most awkard. I used to agree, but I'm beginning to think otherwise.

The early twenties are also full of socially awkward moments. I think there's a dangerous assumption during this period that everyone has grown up to a certain extent. How do you react to twentysomething temper tantrums, baffling unawareness of current events, or complete neglect of general manners? Whining, ignorance, and rudeness to me characterize the classic cases of socially-underdeveloped twentysomethings. When some people seem at least somewhat grown-up, and others act like stunted pre-teens, it quickly becomes...awkward.

Middle age also seems to be plagued by sawk moments. I always thought the most awkward clashes arose between adults who accepted their age, and the mid-life crisis (sports car buying, mistress-shopping) types. It appears, however, that sawk can be stirred up even between adults in the same demographic.

Yesterday, for example, I was standing in line at a United Way charity lunch. The pasta was delayed, and the flock of mid-forties ladies around me was certainly not pleased. To pass the time, they gathered in for gossip, and somehow engulfed me in their circle. I honestly have no idea how this happened, but I suddenly found myself inescapably enclosed within a circle of sawk.

Lady 1: So, lady 2, I’m well. I’m assuming you’re well as well?

Lady 2: Yes, I’m well thank you. We’re all well at home as well. You know we’ve got the usual holiday hustle and bustle, but what else is new? [Side note: who talks like this?]

Lady 1: Oh tell me about it. The kids’ lists get longer every year!

Lady 3: Speaking of kids, Lady 4, is your daughter still…acting?

Lady 4: Yes, she is actually. She has the lead role in a production right now. We’re really proud, but we’re also trying to steer her towards thinking about University. But we figure it’s best to go along with it now, and let her give theatre a try.

Lady 3: Of course, it’s probably best to humour her for a bit. Let her figure out for herself that she has to go to school eventually. I mean, she definitely will once the acting thing doesn’t come through and the parental safety net is pulled out from under her.

Lady 4: I didn’t mean—

Lady 2: Come on, we all had dreams, didn’t we? I know I did until I turned 30, thought my life was over and the sun would never rise again. Then I realized that my dreams didn’t really relate to real life.

Lady 3: --People have no idea who they are or what they need when they’re young. Not even in their 20s. You just don’t have the life experience to know who you are or what’s right for you. It wasn’t until I turned 45 that I figured out who I was.

Lady 4: To be honest with you, I wish I'd done what she’s doing now. We’re actually very proud of her and we think she has a good chance of making a career in theatre. We just want her to get an education as well at some point.

Lady 3: Of course she has a good chance. But how many people do you know who are doing what they “dreamed” of doing?

Lady 1 and 2: Not many. Yeah, really, not many.

Lady 3: But we all turned out all right in the end. Like I said, we know who we are now, and what life is really about.

Awkward silence. Me, staring down and playing with my zipper, avoiding eye contact so they don’t realize I’m probably the same age as said daughter and start asking me about my life plans. Me, in desperate need of escape, backing slowly out of the circle and quickly budding the whole group to get my lunch and get the hell out of there.

After I finished my lunch I watched Lady 3 arguing over who had won the digital camera raffle prize. She was screaming for a redraw, claiming her son “had to have it” and refusing to take no for an answer. As I left I tried not to let the ladies’ conversation depress me. I really felt for the mom who was proud of her daughter, and had to listen to a bunch of acquaintances/co-workers project their crushed ambitions onto her daughter’s dream. If knowing “what life is about” means being rude and mean to a proud mom, and creating an incredibly awkward scenario (contained in which was an unwilling eavesdropper), then I have no intention of joining the ranks of those ladies. How do ambitious youngsters turn into sawky gossip hens?

Please, do not let a similar fate await me.

In other news, I am officially finished the longest paper I have ever written. One more to go, and then home for the holidays.

See more photos here.

I love love love love the snow

"The purest form of pleasure is the pleasure of anticipation"

-Julian Barnes







Finally, it feels natural to be locked away inside, writing papers. This is a time of year I've always loved. It's close to the holidays, but not so close that I feel rushed. The snow is falling slowly....and, okay, we had an ice storm here that caused a power outage, that caused me to lose 3 hours of essay work... but I'm over it and enamoured by the romance of the snowflakes.

See you when this paper is in :)

World AIDS Day

I sent this out as an email, but I want it to reach as many people as possible.

For those of you who know me, you know that I spent the summer of 2005 in Mwanza, Tanzania. I imagine it might sound cliché when I tell you those 3 months changed my life, but I mean it in the most literal way. My experiences in Mwanza—the people I met, the lives I saw a glimpse of—have changed the course of my life.

For example, after graduating from Western, I decided to continue my education in order to begin my lifetime role as an activist against HIV/AIDS. I have already started my program, and if all goes as planned, I will be spending the next 2 years or so writing my thesis on how Canadians can help fight HIV/AIDS using tools of communication technology such as the internet.

So I guess this is a beginning, of sorts.

Today is World AIDS day, and the holidays are approaching. This year, I am raising funds to send to my friend, Sikitu (she's in between the mom and baby in the photo here). Sikitu is my age. She contracted the HIV virus while caring for her dying mother. She lives in a small house on Bugando hill, underneath the main hospital of Mwanza, yet she cannot afford anything the hospital can offer her. However, for 40 cents a day or so, she could afford antiretroviral medication.

This is why I want to send her money. I will be sending her some of my own savings this Christmas, and I know it will reach her directly, because I have 2 friends (Rob and Sam) who are in Mwanza now, and have offered to take the money to Sikitu.

I am asking for anyone and everyone who reads this to consider sending me $5 to contribute to my fund for Sikitu. If you are willing, you can send cheques, cash, money orders, anything to:

Dallas Curow:
(address removed for privacy reasons. if you wish to contact me, please do so at rationalpassion@gmail.com)

For those of you who don’t know me well, or aren’t that familiar with my experiences in Mwanza, you can check out my Tanzania website.

If you're interested, you can also read about my experiences here, here and here, and in The Gazette.

If this doesn't fit your bill, I urge you to check out some of the other World AIDS Day campaigns. For example, you can also see the worldwide (RED) campaign here

Thank you for your consideration.