I was over at Dust my Broom (surprise, surprise) where Shere Khan is leading a discussion about conscription. It’s an interesting post and recommended reading. However today, for once, I’m not going to be posting my take on what the DMB crew is pondering.

After posting my response to Shere Khan’s musings, I toddled off to the hospital to visit dad. During the day, the topic of India kept coming up in conversation and stood at the fore front of my mind. I’ve always said that I miss India and would do anything to return. I think it was there that I truely understood the values of friendship, compassion, dignity and respect.

Those who haven’t already done so can read my India travel journals to learn more about my experiences. However shallow they might seem in hindsight, they had a profound effect on me and the person I’ve grown to be in the last few years.

So this evening, I leave you with the scribblings of a sometimes poet…

September, 2003
I dream of India
Silk sarees and traffic jams
The stench of unwashed bodies
Rotting food
Wet air crawling over my feet

Painted blue signs on the sides of cemeteries
“Please do not pass urine here”
Men standing directly below them
Doing just that
Where is my camera when I need it?

Tent cities and crippled beggars
Pleading with the foreigner for the Rupees in her pockets
You know you’ve stayed too long when you stop looking in their eyes
It’s easier to walk away then
You lie to yourself daily to bury the guilt

Pujas and car Ganeshas
To help survive the auto-rickshaw
Driven over roads dug by hand
Surrounded by death and rabid animals
And life

Technorati Tags: India, travel journals

I had a teacher in high school who used to say you couldn’t go home again. When I returned home after a few years away at university, I thought I knew what he meant. The open fields I used to play in had been developed. Bright new big box stores were popping up everywhere. The shipyard was closing. Things weren’t as I remembered.

As I’ve aged, I’ve learned that perhaps it’s not that you can’t go home again, but that maybe you shouldn’t. Perhaps there was a good reason why you left in the first place. You may forget it for a time and bask in homesickness, but once you’ve landed back in the thick of things, it’s hard to remember why you ever wanted to return.

I miss my home in Edmonton. I loved Fredericton. When I really think about it, Saint John isn’t a place I remember fondly. Sure, I love some of the people here, but there’s not much about this city that has really endeared itself to me. After stomping around Bangalore, Manila, Memphis, Jacksonville, Tucson and Baltimore I’m itching to get out of fogville. I think I might actually prefer Winnipeg to Saint John.

Oh my, it must be really bad if I’m putting it down in writing that my redneck self would rather be in Winnipeg!

Mayhaps it’s the general blah I feel knowing that I come from a town where the potholes are plentiful, the air stinks, and entire buildings disappear in the near daily mists. The smell of the sea can’t wash away the stench of the mud flats or pulp mill. The plentiful lobster and atlantic salmon doesn’t make up for the missing Alberta beef. The Moosehead brewery and Keith’s Amber (Red) beer are poor substitutes for a trip to the Flying Saucer in Memphis. Nothing makes the t-shirt I saw a young father wearing out a dinner with his pre-school daughter today acceptable to me…

I am homesick, but not for the city I grew up in. I miss the city I’m claiming as my own.

Technorati Tags: homesick, small towns, Saint John, Edmonton

There are birds in the domestic departures lounge (through security) in the Edmonton International Airport.

Not being much of a birdwatcher myself, I can’t tell you if these are little sparrows or not. The ones I’ve seen are delicate looking brown birds. Of course, that’s an overly simplistic definition. To add shame to my lack of bird identification abilities I completely forgot I had a camera option on my cell phone and didn’t get a picture of any of them.

I remember noting that there were birds flying around in the domestic departures area when I flew to NB a few weeks ago. There were a number of small children delighted to see birds hopping around the floor and flying away when approached. I’d completely forgot about them until I landed back in the lounge to head back to NB yesterday.

I don’t recall ever seeing birds in the US departures lounge.

Technorati Tags: Edmonton Airport, birds

I may be blogging a bit irregularly over the next few days as I’m travelling back to Edmonton to spend a few days with the hubby on the 17th. Can’t wait to head back to see the house, puppies and kitties. I’ve almost forgotten what the house looks like it’s been so long since I’ve been home. It’s a short visit and I’ll be heading back to NB on the 24th.

I love to fly but it takes forever to go from one side of the country to the other.

It’s easy to forget how amazingly beautiful each region of this country is. I grew up in the Maritimes. The sea swept rocks and fall foliage that people travel the world to see was something I grew up taking for granted. It’s not something you ever forget but nature becomes a daily part of life. As we’ve moved west, I’m awed by the rolling praries and rocky mountains.

Driving to Moncton last night reminded me how beautiful the rolling hills in NB are. I’m looking forward to being here in fall to see the leaves change colour.

Technorati Tags: fall foliage, nature