For those who wish to contact me or send me presents/flowers/chocolate/champagne/money/go-go dancers (actually, you may leave that last one out)...
6 Warburton Street
Brunswick, Victoria
3056
AUSTRALIA
(sawah!)
calling from overseas:
Home
+61 3 93436424
Cellphone (yeah I know, technology has invaded my life like never before):
+61 4 20527813
vendredi 16 février 2007
Chez moi, a Melbourne
16 février
Ma chambre commence déjà à ressembler à ma chambre…
La pile de linge et de cossins dans le coin a pris vie et s’est mise à grandir.
Moi, je la regarde faire assise dans l’autre coin, mon portable sur mes genoux, un sandwich au beurre de peanut à la main (survivre est facile pour les paresseux partout au monde quand on a du beurre de peanut), en écoutant les vieux du Buena Vista Social Club chanter leurs amours…
La brise qui fait frétiller les feuilles sèches de l’autre coté de ma grande fenêtre n’est pas suffisante pour rafraîchir la pièce et, même s’il n’est que 9 heures, on sent que les 40 degrés Celsius annoncés pour aujourd’hui ne sont pas des blagues. Je pense à mon programme de la journée et je suis en train de me dire que je ferais peut-être mieux de m’activer si je veux marcher jusqu’à l’université sans fondre. J’y retourne aujourd’hui pour d’autres sessions d’orientation sur l’université et ses services, mais juste avant, je vous donne quelques nouvelles…
Hier était une journée spéciale pour les étudiants internationaux et les échanges…
Et devinez qui était assis à coté de moi à la première session?!
Vous ne le croirez pas...
Jan Lucas l’Allemand!!!!
Oui, je vous jure! Le grand gars qui était venu faire son secondaire 5 aux Sentiers à Charlesbourg!!!!! Jan Lucas!!!!
Il n’a pas changé (ou du moins, faudrait que je lui donne un bière pour voir s’il n’a vraiment pas changé)…
Ahhahaha
Petite petite planète quand même non?
À part ça, ben je me suis fait des petits amis à l’école… rien de bien excitant, les étudiants en échange sont majoritairement américains avec quelques canadiens à travers et un couple d’Européens, mais malgré la fatigue du décalage (encore ce matin je me suis réveillée à 5h…mais c’est cool, j’aime bien le matin comme ça) je me trouve étrangement sociable. Tant mieux! J’espère que cette excitation qui me fait sourire et jaser va durer. Je suis juste tellement contente d’être ici, vous n’avez pas idée…
Le campus est splendide et vert, les gens vraiment sympathiques et les moniteurs de l’orientation pas mal sexy.
Un chausson avec ça?
Eye, je suis tellement motivée que j’ai vraiment hâte de commencer mes cours!
Ça ne sera pas avant le 27, mais c’est parfait parce que ces dix jours vont me permettre de bien m’installer dans ma nouvelle maison (peut-être même en profiterai-je pour réorganiser ce bazar qui me sert de chambre), cuisiner un peu pour pouvoir fuller mon congélateur et sauver des sous plus tard (la bouffe est vraiment chère…), me trouver une bicyclette (j’ai pas encore abandonné l’idée malgré que j’ai découvert hier que j’ai le droit aux tarifs réduits habituellement réservés aux locaux parce que je suis en échange et pas étudiante internationale, yeah!), me trouver un travail (je dois d’ailleurs appliquer pour un permis avant…), visiter la ville comme il faut, lire! et peut-être peindre un peu (ouais, je sais, je me promets toujours de prendre le temps de peindre, mais cette fois-ci, c’est vrai). Je veux aussi me faire un bon réseau d’amis. Je suis chanceuse d’avoir Annur, mes colocs et leur gang qui me traînent partout, dans petites pâtisseries qui servent les meilleures tartes en ville, les populaires et très kitch resto vietnamiens, les étranges magasins de trucs usagés et les soirées Q&A (Queer and Alternative…oouhh) des clubs branchés… mais j’ai aussi hâte de voler de mes propres ailes.
Parlant d’ailes (attention lien douteux), je vous laisse parce qu’avant d’aller à l’université, je dois passer chercher ma barbe et ma couronne d’épines pour compléter mon costume de ce soir…
Inspirée par mes visites religieuses chiliennes, je serai Jésus (avec ma nouvelle coupe de cheveux, un super cœur enflammé que je me suis confectionné hier soir et peu de ketchup, ce sera parfait). Je n’étais pas trop sure si mon costume serait trop osé, mais depuis après avoir appris que ma coloc sera Steve Irwin, je me suis dit que les Australiens prendraient bien la blague sur le sacré…
Si jamais je ne vous redonne pas de nouvelles, c’est qu’on m’aura lapidée.
Prenez soin de vous autres!
Moi, je vais m’assurer de boire assez de vin pour pas que ça fasse mal ;)
Photos? Photos?
Yeah!
Ma chambre commence déjà à ressembler à ma chambre…
La pile de linge et de cossins dans le coin a pris vie et s’est mise à grandir.
Moi, je la regarde faire assise dans l’autre coin, mon portable sur mes genoux, un sandwich au beurre de peanut à la main (survivre est facile pour les paresseux partout au monde quand on a du beurre de peanut), en écoutant les vieux du Buena Vista Social Club chanter leurs amours…
La brise qui fait frétiller les feuilles sèches de l’autre coté de ma grande fenêtre n’est pas suffisante pour rafraîchir la pièce et, même s’il n’est que 9 heures, on sent que les 40 degrés Celsius annoncés pour aujourd’hui ne sont pas des blagues. Je pense à mon programme de la journée et je suis en train de me dire que je ferais peut-être mieux de m’activer si je veux marcher jusqu’à l’université sans fondre. J’y retourne aujourd’hui pour d’autres sessions d’orientation sur l’université et ses services, mais juste avant, je vous donne quelques nouvelles…
Hier était une journée spéciale pour les étudiants internationaux et les échanges…
Et devinez qui était assis à coté de moi à la première session?!
Vous ne le croirez pas...
Jan Lucas l’Allemand!!!!
Oui, je vous jure! Le grand gars qui était venu faire son secondaire 5 aux Sentiers à Charlesbourg!!!!! Jan Lucas!!!!
Il n’a pas changé (ou du moins, faudrait que je lui donne un bière pour voir s’il n’a vraiment pas changé)…
Ahhahaha
Petite petite planète quand même non?
À part ça, ben je me suis fait des petits amis à l’école… rien de bien excitant, les étudiants en échange sont majoritairement américains avec quelques canadiens à travers et un couple d’Européens, mais malgré la fatigue du décalage (encore ce matin je me suis réveillée à 5h…mais c’est cool, j’aime bien le matin comme ça) je me trouve étrangement sociable. Tant mieux! J’espère que cette excitation qui me fait sourire et jaser va durer. Je suis juste tellement contente d’être ici, vous n’avez pas idée…
Le campus est splendide et vert, les gens vraiment sympathiques et les moniteurs de l’orientation pas mal sexy.
Un chausson avec ça?
Eye, je suis tellement motivée que j’ai vraiment hâte de commencer mes cours!
Ça ne sera pas avant le 27, mais c’est parfait parce que ces dix jours vont me permettre de bien m’installer dans ma nouvelle maison (peut-être même en profiterai-je pour réorganiser ce bazar qui me sert de chambre), cuisiner un peu pour pouvoir fuller mon congélateur et sauver des sous plus tard (la bouffe est vraiment chère…), me trouver une bicyclette (j’ai pas encore abandonné l’idée malgré que j’ai découvert hier que j’ai le droit aux tarifs réduits habituellement réservés aux locaux parce que je suis en échange et pas étudiante internationale, yeah!), me trouver un travail (je dois d’ailleurs appliquer pour un permis avant…), visiter la ville comme il faut, lire! et peut-être peindre un peu (ouais, je sais, je me promets toujours de prendre le temps de peindre, mais cette fois-ci, c’est vrai). Je veux aussi me faire un bon réseau d’amis. Je suis chanceuse d’avoir Annur, mes colocs et leur gang qui me traînent partout, dans petites pâtisseries qui servent les meilleures tartes en ville, les populaires et très kitch resto vietnamiens, les étranges magasins de trucs usagés et les soirées Q&A (Queer and Alternative…oouhh) des clubs branchés… mais j’ai aussi hâte de voler de mes propres ailes.
Parlant d’ailes (attention lien douteux), je vous laisse parce qu’avant d’aller à l’université, je dois passer chercher ma barbe et ma couronne d’épines pour compléter mon costume de ce soir…
Inspirée par mes visites religieuses chiliennes, je serai Jésus (avec ma nouvelle coupe de cheveux, un super cœur enflammé que je me suis confectionné hier soir et peu de ketchup, ce sera parfait). Je n’étais pas trop sure si mon costume serait trop osé, mais depuis après avoir appris que ma coloc sera Steve Irwin, je me suis dit que les Australiens prendraient bien la blague sur le sacré…
Si jamais je ne vous redonne pas de nouvelles, c’est qu’on m’aura lapidée.
Prenez soin de vous autres!
Moi, je vais m’assurer de boire assez de vin pour pas que ça fasse mal ;)
Photos? Photos?
Yeah!
Centre-ville de Melbourne le matin
(c'est pas mon universite qu'on voit, mais c'est pas tres loin)
Tramway a cote de la station centrale de train
Ma maison!!! Elle est vraiment cute non? C'est un seul etage, un genre de tres grand 6 et demi. Avec une cour arriere et un etabli (ca, je l'ai requisitionne pour en faire mon atelier de menuiserie...des blagues...)
Haha...bienvenue chez nous (on a pas de chien, mais on a pense a japper une fois de temps en temps chacun notre tour pour faire peur aux voleurs)!
Tuyau d'arrosage dans notre cour...tse quand je vous disais qu'on avait plus d'eau?
Salle a manger entouree de portes-fenetres (on a meme une lampe en haut de la table qu'on peut baisser pour nos partie de poker autour de notre future table -elle arrive la semaine prochaine-), cuisine avec un genre de bar (ca va etre malade tantot ca!), pis au fond, on voit le salon
Ma coloc Elise et ma copine Annur, au Animal Orchestra, en face de l'universite
Quiche de ma confection (et elle etait bonne!) chez Annur (gauche) avec mon autre coloc Sophie (qui a son party de 20 ans ce soir)
Hier soir en ville
Souper dans un resto vietnamien
(on y voit -mal- Jessica alias Jess, Andrew alias Drew, Sophie alias Sossie et Elise alias Pegg... le surnom a l'air d'etre de mise... je risque de vous reapparaitre sous un nom different)
Dans l'ordre et le desordre...
15 février
La terrasse du petit Animal Orchestra est presque pleine et moi, j’y suis.
Tâche numéro 4, « Trouver un café vraiment cool où devenir une régulière », accomplie (les premières taches étaient de prendre une photo de moi en Australie, goûter à une bière ET à un vin local et finalement prendre le tramway Melbournien… les choses plus frivoles comme se trouver une place où rester, une job, etc, ca c’est sur une autre liste…).
Je lis les nouvelles australiennes (encore des requins! …et le réchauffement de la planète! Y a pas eu une journée depuis que je suis ici où je n’ai pas eu de conversation sur le réchauffement de la planète avec quelqu’un…) avec mon espresso avant d’ouvrir mon carnet de listes (vous en faites pas, je me soigne… je fais partie des Listeux-Anonymes).
Ok. Bon.
- Acheter un lit, fait! (il a été livré ce matin à 7 heures par un jobbeur jovial et très bavard –j’ai rien compris de ce qu’il m’a raconté, va falloir que je me fasse à l’accent australien-).
- Acheter un drap protecteur pour mettre par dessus un matelas (parce que selon les taches et les marques, quelque chose me dit qu’il a eu trop d’expériences), fait!
- Acheter des draps…hum…pas encore
- Acheter des flip-flops (parce qu’il fait chaud et qu’ici c’est le pays de la gougoune)…même chose
- Acheter une machine à café (parce que du Nescafé, c’est pas génial et parce que l’espresso du Animal Orchestra est bon mais à 4$, ca va faire mal à mon budget de dépendante à la cafféine)…pas encore
- Trouver un costume pour le party de demain soir (c’est la fête à ma coloc Sophie et on attend entre 50 et 200 personnes, le thème : Beyond the Grave, donc, on doit etre un mort célèbre ou un zombie quelque chose du genre…des idées la gang? Non, pas Anna Nicole Smith. Pas Elvis non plus)…non, pas encore
- Compléter mon enrôlement à l’université…euh, ca, c’est ce que je suis venue faire ce matin…oh merde! je suis en retard!!!!
La terrasse du petit Animal Orchestra est presque pleine et moi, j’y suis.
Tâche numéro 4, « Trouver un café vraiment cool où devenir une régulière », accomplie (les premières taches étaient de prendre une photo de moi en Australie, goûter à une bière ET à un vin local et finalement prendre le tramway Melbournien… les choses plus frivoles comme se trouver une place où rester, une job, etc, ca c’est sur une autre liste…).
Je lis les nouvelles australiennes (encore des requins! …et le réchauffement de la planète! Y a pas eu une journée depuis que je suis ici où je n’ai pas eu de conversation sur le réchauffement de la planète avec quelqu’un…) avec mon espresso avant d’ouvrir mon carnet de listes (vous en faites pas, je me soigne… je fais partie des Listeux-Anonymes).
Ok. Bon.
- Acheter un lit, fait! (il a été livré ce matin à 7 heures par un jobbeur jovial et très bavard –j’ai rien compris de ce qu’il m’a raconté, va falloir que je me fasse à l’accent australien-).
- Acheter un drap protecteur pour mettre par dessus un matelas (parce que selon les taches et les marques, quelque chose me dit qu’il a eu trop d’expériences), fait!
- Acheter des draps…hum…pas encore
- Acheter des flip-flops (parce qu’il fait chaud et qu’ici c’est le pays de la gougoune)…même chose
- Acheter une machine à café (parce que du Nescafé, c’est pas génial et parce que l’espresso du Animal Orchestra est bon mais à 4$, ca va faire mal à mon budget de dépendante à la cafféine)…pas encore
- Trouver un costume pour le party de demain soir (c’est la fête à ma coloc Sophie et on attend entre 50 et 200 personnes, le thème : Beyond the Grave, donc, on doit etre un mort célèbre ou un zombie quelque chose du genre…des idées la gang? Non, pas Anna Nicole Smith. Pas Elvis non plus)…non, pas encore
- Compléter mon enrôlement à l’université…euh, ca, c’est ce que je suis venue faire ce matin…oh merde! je suis en retard!!!!
Tache essentielle # 1:
Living for the moment
13th of Feb
It’s 4 am in Melbourne, Australia, and I’m wide awake.
After sleeping for more than twelve hours, I couldn’t really do otherwise. And anyways, Bamma, my friend Annur’s exalted mini-dog, won’t let me quit playing games with him.
« Bamma! Bamma! Va chercher ton os champion! Vas-y le chien! »
But Bamma doesn’t speak French and just keeps on bouncing around like I’m the most exciting thing in this living room.
Obviously, little Bamma can’t look out the window cause then, he’d be really excited : the lights of the city’s skyscrapers are putting on such a show…
So, I’ve arrived in the « antipodes » (again, this is not for anti Ipods, but for the opposed side of the planet) yesterday morning, without my luggage, for the second time this month.
Sawah.*
Although it upset me to realise I wouldn’t be able to be in my own stuff after being on the road since last Thursday, I was lucky to pass the Australian customs with a laptop and a purse (which were still examined thoroughly for like twenty minutes) instead of two gigantic bags containing my physical life. I never thought anyone would outdo the Americans customs officers these days, but I have to admit that the Aussies win hands down, though they did it all with a smile.
It was almost two hours after I landed that I finally escaped the arrival terminal, worried my arranged pick-up from the University would be long gone.
Then I saw two old ladies with thick glasses in funky bright t-shirts, holding pads of the Melbourne Uni International Students office.
I walked over to them. “Hi!”
“Oh! Hi darling! What’s your name? Sarah? Oh! Ellen! Ellen! Sarah’s here!” “What? Oh! Sarah! But what about your luggage dear?” “Oh …that’s terrible!” “Ellen, did you see Maria arrive?” “No! But Yoon did.” “Yoon?” “Oh, no, I meant Boon…” “Boon? Really? Where is he gone?” “Ellen? Ellen?”
… and the avalanche of chit-chat continues while the pads and highlighters fly around every time a new student arrives.
Somehow, I got sent with Michael, an old man I suspect Ellen and her pal to have a crush on (the excitement level went even higher when Michael walked in), who drove me into town while discussing Australia’s 7 years-long drought (so severe this year that all the plants outside die because it’s become illegal to water them) and the sharks who bit off this surfer’s leg last week (sawah, now I am dying to go swimming!).
When I got her place, Annur was there, waiting for me, on the stairs of her apartment building.
I tried to calculate, as I hugged her, how many years had gone by since I last saw her or even spoke to her on the phone…
Two and a half.
Wow.
Strangely, I feel she hasn’t changed. Still so gorgeous, still that amazing sense of humour and still the same big heart.
It was good to see her and, almost instinctively, I tried to catch up all this time in a few hours, as if I’d have to leave tomorrow, just like I did with Amanda.
“Chill woman!” I’m around for the next six months or so. I can take my time to rediscover the friend I suddenly realised I missed a lot.
My chances of doing that are pretty good since one of her best friends, Elise aka Pegg, whom I met over a potato salad yesterday afternoon before passing out, is looking for a fourth person to share a house they rented in another cool neighbourhood nearby, Brunswick. The place is in my budget and a great bunch of people to live with is my top criteria so I didn’t hesitate too much before calling it a deal.
I can’t wait to see that place!
And I’ll get a bike so I can bike from there to Uni!
A bike with a basket!
(yeah, yeah, me who never ever biked in Montreal cause I was too scared, I’m gonna get a bike! I feel courageous these days… who knows, I might ever try surf! Or maybe not… we’ll see)
And I’ll work in a cool café!
And I’ll get a tan!
And I’ll eat mangoes!
And I’ll drink shiraz!
And it’s gonna be fun!
Yeah!
…all this enthusiasm that had been (scarily) missing for the past weeks seems to come back to me all at once as I sit there, quiet but smiling like I won the lottery.
That feels good too.
I think about my Dad who always says he loves waking up earlier than everybody else and have a coffee in a dark, silent house. He’s so right. Especially in a new place. It gives you the time to watch, to listen, to enjoy. And to dream….dream about how my day, my life will turn out to be…
Though I’m not exactly by myself… but at last Bamma fell asleep all rolled up in a ball against my thigh.
He’s a funny little animal this one and I have a moment of happiness here, on Annur’s couch, telling Bamma I love him while watching the sun rise. He sighs as if he understood what I just said.
The good thing about animals is that they get the truth of your hand or your voice and they seem to know that’s all there is in there.
I wish I could do that more often.
Living for the moment they are.
But before I start Yoda-talking you guys, I’ll go make myself another coffee to watch the finale of this fantastic show of colours in front of me, cause, as much as living with all my dreams and hopes, living for the moment makes me sigh of happiness too…
*Oh, I just realised some of you might not know the meaning of "Sawah" which I use constantly in my English slang ever since I came back from Kenya...it's kiswahili for "it's ok, it's alright" but I use it more for "great", and pretty often in an ironic way...
It’s 4 am in Melbourne, Australia, and I’m wide awake.
After sleeping for more than twelve hours, I couldn’t really do otherwise. And anyways, Bamma, my friend Annur’s exalted mini-dog, won’t let me quit playing games with him.
« Bamma! Bamma! Va chercher ton os champion! Vas-y le chien! »
But Bamma doesn’t speak French and just keeps on bouncing around like I’m the most exciting thing in this living room.
Obviously, little Bamma can’t look out the window cause then, he’d be really excited : the lights of the city’s skyscrapers are putting on such a show…
So, I’ve arrived in the « antipodes » (again, this is not for anti Ipods, but for the opposed side of the planet) yesterday morning, without my luggage, for the second time this month.
Sawah.*
Although it upset me to realise I wouldn’t be able to be in my own stuff after being on the road since last Thursday, I was lucky to pass the Australian customs with a laptop and a purse (which were still examined thoroughly for like twenty minutes) instead of two gigantic bags containing my physical life. I never thought anyone would outdo the Americans customs officers these days, but I have to admit that the Aussies win hands down, though they did it all with a smile.
It was almost two hours after I landed that I finally escaped the arrival terminal, worried my arranged pick-up from the University would be long gone.
Then I saw two old ladies with thick glasses in funky bright t-shirts, holding pads of the Melbourne Uni International Students office.
I walked over to them. “Hi!”
“Oh! Hi darling! What’s your name? Sarah? Oh! Ellen! Ellen! Sarah’s here!” “What? Oh! Sarah! But what about your luggage dear?” “Oh …that’s terrible!” “Ellen, did you see Maria arrive?” “No! But Yoon did.” “Yoon?” “Oh, no, I meant Boon…” “Boon? Really? Where is he gone?” “Ellen? Ellen?”
… and the avalanche of chit-chat continues while the pads and highlighters fly around every time a new student arrives.
Somehow, I got sent with Michael, an old man I suspect Ellen and her pal to have a crush on (the excitement level went even higher when Michael walked in), who drove me into town while discussing Australia’s 7 years-long drought (so severe this year that all the plants outside die because it’s become illegal to water them) and the sharks who bit off this surfer’s leg last week (sawah, now I am dying to go swimming!).
When I got her place, Annur was there, waiting for me, on the stairs of her apartment building.
I tried to calculate, as I hugged her, how many years had gone by since I last saw her or even spoke to her on the phone…
Two and a half.
Wow.
Strangely, I feel she hasn’t changed. Still so gorgeous, still that amazing sense of humour and still the same big heart.
It was good to see her and, almost instinctively, I tried to catch up all this time in a few hours, as if I’d have to leave tomorrow, just like I did with Amanda.
“Chill woman!” I’m around for the next six months or so. I can take my time to rediscover the friend I suddenly realised I missed a lot.
My chances of doing that are pretty good since one of her best friends, Elise aka Pegg, whom I met over a potato salad yesterday afternoon before passing out, is looking for a fourth person to share a house they rented in another cool neighbourhood nearby, Brunswick. The place is in my budget and a great bunch of people to live with is my top criteria so I didn’t hesitate too much before calling it a deal.
I can’t wait to see that place!
And I’ll get a bike so I can bike from there to Uni!
A bike with a basket!
(yeah, yeah, me who never ever biked in Montreal cause I was too scared, I’m gonna get a bike! I feel courageous these days… who knows, I might ever try surf! Or maybe not… we’ll see)
And I’ll work in a cool café!
And I’ll get a tan!
And I’ll eat mangoes!
And I’ll drink shiraz!
And it’s gonna be fun!
Yeah!
…all this enthusiasm that had been (scarily) missing for the past weeks seems to come back to me all at once as I sit there, quiet but smiling like I won the lottery.
That feels good too.
I think about my Dad who always says he loves waking up earlier than everybody else and have a coffee in a dark, silent house. He’s so right. Especially in a new place. It gives you the time to watch, to listen, to enjoy. And to dream….dream about how my day, my life will turn out to be…
Though I’m not exactly by myself… but at last Bamma fell asleep all rolled up in a ball against my thigh.
He’s a funny little animal this one and I have a moment of happiness here, on Annur’s couch, telling Bamma I love him while watching the sun rise. He sighs as if he understood what I just said.
The good thing about animals is that they get the truth of your hand or your voice and they seem to know that’s all there is in there.
I wish I could do that more often.
Living for the moment they are.
But before I start Yoda-talking you guys, I’ll go make myself another coffee to watch the finale of this fantastic show of colours in front of me, cause, as much as living with all my dreams and hopes, living for the moment makes me sigh of happiness too…
*Oh, I just realised some of you might not know the meaning of "Sawah" which I use constantly in my English slang ever since I came back from Kenya...it's kiswahili for "it's ok, it's alright" but I use it more for "great", and pretty often in an ironic way...
Après les légendaires 24 heures à Matane et 24 heures à New York, voici : 24 heures a Toronto
Une autre idée pour un film!
…ou la conclusion d’un film? Ou son intro? Ou le point culminant?
Je sais pas trop… Avec ces allers-retours entre les hémisphères, je suis plus vraiment sûre à quel point j’en suis...
Ça commence par un gros plan sur l’officier de l’Immigration canadien, bien serré dans son uniforme, qui étampe mon passeport d’un grand coup bien résonnant et qui me le remet en souriant avec son accent anglais :
« Voi-lah mad-moisell. Welcome home! »
Le passeport passe de mes mains tremblantes (je sais pas pourquoi je réagis toujours comme si je transportais 2 kilos de coke quand je passe les douanes) à mon sac. Puis, mes doigts s’arrêtent sur mes écouteurs que je replace rapidement sur mes oreilles.
Silence.
Le long corridor devant moi.
Mes doigts sur le lecteur mp3.
Play.
« tan-na-na-na nana, tan-na-na-na nana… » (l’intro triomphante de Wake Up d’Arcade Fire)
Et les portes qui s’ouvrent sur Toronto…
Descendre la longue rue Queen sous le soleil d’hiver et choisir dans lequel de ses cafés prendre une pause; surprendre ma copine Amanda à sa job et la serrer fort dans mes bras pour la deuxième fois cette année (c’est une bonne année); prendre la tant attendue douche chaude et jouer à la rock star dans le peignoir « in » du chic et funky hôtel Drake; papoter aux parents en attendant le train de Montréal qui m’amènera ma meilleure amie (ah Ming, on va survivre enh?); rire; pleurer; jaser; psychanalyser; siroter de l’alcool chilien; écouter les dernières émissions de The Office; rire encore; dormir un peu; rire de nouveau… puis, se serrer fort et très fort; promettre de donner des nouvelles; promettre de s’amuser; promettre de laisser les soucis ici et promettre d’en profiter; se serrer encore… envoyer la main; retenir les larmes; se retourner un dernier coup pour voir Ming et Alex rester; prendre un grand respire…et avancer.
Gros plan sur l’officier des douanes américaines qui me donne un bonbon pour m’aider à sécher les larmes qui sont sorties sans permission.
Un petit coup d’étampe tout doux sur la dernière page libre de mon passeport.
Un sourire, gentil.
« Have a safe journey miss… »
Passeport à mains qui tremblent d’émotion à sac. Doigts à écouteurs à oreilles.
Play.
Silence.
Applaudissements. Et la voix inimitable de Nina Simone : « Ain’t got not home, ain’t got no shoes. Ain’t got no money… »
Les lumières et les couleurs des hors-taxes qui scintillent autour de moi.
« …aaaaand what I have I goooot? I’ve got my own life anywaaaays! Yeaaaah… What I’ve got, nobody can take awaaaaaay…. »
Porte D10.
P.S. Thanks Amanda, merci Ming, merci Alex, thanks Nina.
…ou la conclusion d’un film? Ou son intro? Ou le point culminant?
Je sais pas trop… Avec ces allers-retours entre les hémisphères, je suis plus vraiment sûre à quel point j’en suis...
Ça commence par un gros plan sur l’officier de l’Immigration canadien, bien serré dans son uniforme, qui étampe mon passeport d’un grand coup bien résonnant et qui me le remet en souriant avec son accent anglais :
« Voi-lah mad-moisell. Welcome home! »
Le passeport passe de mes mains tremblantes (je sais pas pourquoi je réagis toujours comme si je transportais 2 kilos de coke quand je passe les douanes) à mon sac. Puis, mes doigts s’arrêtent sur mes écouteurs que je replace rapidement sur mes oreilles.
Silence.
Le long corridor devant moi.
Mes doigts sur le lecteur mp3.
Play.
« tan-na-na-na nana, tan-na-na-na nana… » (l’intro triomphante de Wake Up d’Arcade Fire)
Et les portes qui s’ouvrent sur Toronto…
Descendre la longue rue Queen sous le soleil d’hiver et choisir dans lequel de ses cafés prendre une pause; surprendre ma copine Amanda à sa job et la serrer fort dans mes bras pour la deuxième fois cette année (c’est une bonne année); prendre la tant attendue douche chaude et jouer à la rock star dans le peignoir « in » du chic et funky hôtel Drake; papoter aux parents en attendant le train de Montréal qui m’amènera ma meilleure amie (ah Ming, on va survivre enh?); rire; pleurer; jaser; psychanalyser; siroter de l’alcool chilien; écouter les dernières émissions de The Office; rire encore; dormir un peu; rire de nouveau… puis, se serrer fort et très fort; promettre de donner des nouvelles; promettre de s’amuser; promettre de laisser les soucis ici et promettre d’en profiter; se serrer encore… envoyer la main; retenir les larmes; se retourner un dernier coup pour voir Ming et Alex rester; prendre un grand respire…et avancer.
Gros plan sur l’officier des douanes américaines qui me donne un bonbon pour m’aider à sécher les larmes qui sont sorties sans permission.
Un petit coup d’étampe tout doux sur la dernière page libre de mon passeport.
Un sourire, gentil.
« Have a safe journey miss… »
Passeport à mains qui tremblent d’émotion à sac. Doigts à écouteurs à oreilles.
Play.
Silence.
Applaudissements. Et la voix inimitable de Nina Simone : « Ain’t got not home, ain’t got no shoes. Ain’t got no money… »
Les lumières et les couleurs des hors-taxes qui scintillent autour de moi.
« …aaaaand what I have I goooot? I’ve got my own life anywaaaays! Yeaaaah… What I’ve got, nobody can take awaaaaaay…. »
Porte D10.
P.S. Thanks Amanda, merci Ming, merci Alex, thanks Nina.
Ming et cafe
Mandy and Ming on Queen St
mardi 13 février 2007
The Great Big Trip Part 2
Serene Serena
DAYS 4-5
Half-heartedly, I leave my poolside spot to a large German family and we get back on the windy road that takes us back down to the coast, at the city of La Serena.
Built on top of a small hill that overlooks the ocean, La Serena’s large avenues have recently been remodelled to allow wide sidewalks where cafés and restaurants have their terraces and its early 20th century Spanish-style buildings have been restored to give the city a very pleasant atmosphere. Stopping over to eat in one of these cafés and stroll on its Plaza de Armas, we also took the time to visit its oldest church, a simple yet compelling Dominican church always with one of these horrific Jesuses (as opposed to our Jesuses, always represented almost as sleeping on the cross with a sad but resigned expression, these Chilean Christs, with their eyes wide-opened, their mouths and faces distorted by pain and agony, their bloody limbs –we regularly see the bones coming out of the knees- and their real human hair, are simply hair-raising!), and a monument to the ones who disappeared or were killed during the Pinochet regime.
Built on top of a small hill that overlooks the ocean, La Serena’s large avenues have recently been remodelled to allow wide sidewalks where cafés and restaurants have their terraces and its early 20th century Spanish-style buildings have been restored to give the city a very pleasant atmosphere. Stopping over to eat in one of these cafés and stroll on its Plaza de Armas, we also took the time to visit its oldest church, a simple yet compelling Dominican church always with one of these horrific Jesuses (as opposed to our Jesuses, always represented almost as sleeping on the cross with a sad but resigned expression, these Chilean Christs, with their eyes wide-opened, their mouths and faces distorted by pain and agony, their bloody limbs –we regularly see the bones coming out of the knees- and their real human hair, are simply hair-raising!), and a monument to the ones who disappeared or were killed during the Pinochet regime.
Talking about this friendly old man who died last December, it’s weird to see him being mocked by humour magazine (with an ice-cream on is head) or discredited by graffiti artists while thousands apparently queued for hours to pay their respects to the dictator when he died.
That’s just one of the many issues on which the Chilean society is deeply divided. As I just read in the papers, I see another heated debate going on over the adoption of a law that would allow women of 14 years and older to have access to oral contraceptives in a country where the President is a single mother yet where divorce was made legal only in 2004…
The fact that 70% of Chileans call themselves Catholics probably has something to do with that. But if the vast majority of its city dwellers is Christian, the exentric mayor of Coquimbo (La Serena's twin city) who erected a gigantic cross at the top of the city's main hill decided other religions should also be honoured. That why the other landmark of the city is a mosque!!! Don't ask the angered Muslim community of Santiago for what reasons the royal family of Morocco decided to finance the construction of that deserted mosque in Coquimbo rather than in the capital, but the fact is that you cannot call the city un-politically correct!
But apart from old churches, monuments and funky religious landmarks, what makes Coquimbo and La Serena so great is the 6km long beach they share. While it's not as upscale as Zapallar, La Serena is still the domain of the well-off, many of them Argentinians who find it cheaper to cross the Andes (they really do, at like 5000m there's a pass where they drive through during the summer...unbelieveable!) to party on the Chilean sand than to go all the way down to their own expensive resorts. But happily, in Chile, the access to the sea cannot be lawfully monopolized by big hotels and thus, its balnearios are still available to all...
And another beautiful day wouldn't be complete without a walk on the beach and our traditional sunset Pisco Sour.
Once again, all together: LIFE IS...HARD!!!
The Great Big Trip Part 1
" Monday Monday pa-laaa, pa-la-la-laaa "
(don’t ask me why this Mamas & the Papas’ song has become my " fight-horrible-Monday-mornings-with-love " anthem…some History class 1-2 maybe?)
DAY 1
(don’t ask me why this Mamas & the Papas’ song has become my " fight-horrible-Monday-mornings-with-love " anthem…some History class 1-2 maybe?)
DAY 1
Of course, waking up before 10 these days has proven to be harder and harder (I know guys, I know… don’t you dare burst my bubble : Uni isn’t starting till the 26th), but I have to admit that today, it’s worth making an effort and throw myself out of bed (literally) at 7:30… today is special because is a holiday Monday!!! Sawah!
My aunt has managed to take a week off and, just like thousands of Santiaguinos who just started their month long summer vacation, off we are, out of the city on Ruta 5 Norte. Destination : El Mar!
A few hours drive through the palta (avocado) fields and the dry hills of the Central Valley, crossing mountains in long dark tunnels and risking our lives sharing the road with fearless Chilean car-operators (I can’t really call them drivers), and we get to the coast, on time for lunch, at Cachagua.
Cachagua… Ahhhh…The sun. The beach. The Pacific. The penguins.
Penguins?
Yeah man, and real ones (remind me to tell you about my personal encounter with one of them)!!! Just next to the beach, on a small protected island, a bunch of Happy Feet are taking it easy under the sun as I watch and wonder why I didn’t know penguins lived in warm water.
Well, you see, that’s the thing: they don’t. No matter how many Gucci bikini-clad swimmers (that place is so clearly and exclusively upper-most-class) dip themselves in it, the Cachagua waters are FREEZING!
But hey, I am Canadian! And not just in the Molson ad way: I have bear blood running in my veins!!!
…although… bears, they sleep in the winter don’t they?
Anyways, after a few unsuccessful attempts, I finally manage to swim (well…I ran in and ran out, the whole thing while screaming like a Backstreet Boys groupie who sees Nick Carter: like really excited in a happy but completely uncontrolled way) for the first time in my life in the great Pacific Ocean.
I’ll never quite understand how Chileans can enjoy chilling in the icy ocean, but I can tell by their perfect tans that they spend some serious time working on it lying down in the sand.
In Rome, do like Romans (is that a proverb or I just made it up?). So here I am, in Chile, doing like the Chileans: trying to sun-tan my North-American-winter-white (that’s a special shade of greenish white) skin to a nice healthy bronze.
The warmth of the sun on my shoulders, the softness of the sand between my toes, the playfulness of the breeze in my hair, the music of the waves in my ears… I close my eyes. Is there anything more relaxing than a nap on the beach?
Well, ten points for me! Sometimes I feel I have a goldfish’s brain… To learn from experiences, like last week painful sunburns I got while hiking in the Cajón? Me? No way! I have a 3-seconds memory!!!
So TS is for Toasted Sarah once again (but that I wouldn’t figure out until the following morning when I almost had a heart attack seeing this red lobster in the mirror).
In the end I did get a new skin colour: it’s now gringo-goes-to-the-beach-act-one-red (that’s a special shade of blueish red).
As the sun slowly goes down, we head to our hotel overlooking the small bay of Zapallar, another high-society summer retreat. The story goes that one rich guy bought all the land surrounding the bay back in the early 20th century and then gave it out to some of his friends, also all fellow top-ten Chilean families members, with only one condition: that they build each their summer "shacks" in a grand and unique style. Our hotel was one of these funky castles (think everything from Polynesian roofs to cubism-inspired structures, classical Greek columns to Art Deco) that you find all around the bay surrounded by gorgeous gardens…
I know, I know, la vida es muy difícil.
Especially when you’re forced to watch the sunset with a Pisco Sour (the typical Chilean cocktail) in your hand…
P.S. The Penguin story:
Do I look that gullible? (No, people from work please do not reply to that question.)
I guess so cause I was once again the one picked on by the waiter (a middle-aged man wishing he was a comedian) who asked whether we felt like touching a real penguin (that’s just one more way to end a lunch innit?).
Uh…yeah, sure… (asking myself, ok, what’s the catch here?)
So here we have Mr. Funny bringing a real but stuffed penguin. We all crack up, take a pic and, as I thought it was over, he asks me whether I want to touch a REAL penguin.
…haha…uh…really?…uh…well…yeah… (now I am not quite sure what he’ll bring)
I see him coming back with a small penguin in his hand. No way! That’s not a real one, it doesn’t even move!! AHHH! It moved!!!! AHHHH!
---found out later that it was a young one that got hurt and that they (the family at the restaurant) had been feeding for two days before they released it later on that afternoon to join its people on the island---
The guy puts it in my hands as I scream (like a Backstreet Boys groupie again).
AND I HAVE A PENGUIN IN MY HANDS!!!!
the end.
The following morning, we are on the road again. We’re going towards the North, the small one as they say, the Norte Chico, and it’s gonna be a long ride. Chile might not be a big country, but it’s a tall one!
Indeed, from north to south, it’s probably as long as Canada can be wide. Needless to say there’s also probably as much variety in the Chilean climate and its ecosystems as we have in the Cold Country. With a Mediterranean-like centre, where olives and vines grow between tall alleys of poplars, a ocean seaside of dry grey hills and cacti, the driest desert in the world as well as one of the wettest area in the world with rainforests, the visitor never gets bored, not even during a 5 hours-long drive. Tested and true.
…there, some pics for you hungry kids of the visual era.
In the end I did get a new skin colour: it’s now gringo-goes-to-the-beach-act-one-red (that’s a special shade of blueish red).
As the sun slowly goes down, we head to our hotel overlooking the small bay of Zapallar, another high-society summer retreat. The story goes that one rich guy bought all the land surrounding the bay back in the early 20th century and then gave it out to some of his friends, also all fellow top-ten Chilean families members, with only one condition: that they build each their summer "shacks" in a grand and unique style. Our hotel was one of these funky castles (think everything from Polynesian roofs to cubism-inspired structures, classical Greek columns to Art Deco) that you find all around the bay surrounded by gorgeous gardens…
I know, I know, la vida es muy difícil.
Especially when you’re forced to watch the sunset with a Pisco Sour (the typical Chilean cocktail) in your hand…
P.S. The Penguin story:
Do I look that gullible? (No, people from work please do not reply to that question.)
I guess so cause I was once again the one picked on by the waiter (a middle-aged man wishing he was a comedian) who asked whether we felt like touching a real penguin (that’s just one more way to end a lunch innit?).
Uh…yeah, sure… (asking myself, ok, what’s the catch here?)
So here we have Mr. Funny bringing a real but stuffed penguin. We all crack up, take a pic and, as I thought it was over, he asks me whether I want to touch a REAL penguin.
…haha…uh…really?…uh…well…yeah… (now I am not quite sure what he’ll bring)
I see him coming back with a small penguin in his hand. No way! That’s not a real one, it doesn’t even move!! AHHH! It moved!!!! AHHHH!
---found out later that it was a young one that got hurt and that they (the family at the restaurant) had been feeding for two days before they released it later on that afternoon to join its people on the island---
The guy puts it in my hands as I scream (like a Backstreet Boys groupie again).
AND I HAVE A PENGUIN IN MY HANDS!!!!
the end.
Sun, Moon, Stars and UFOs
A cosmic experience down in the Valle del Elquí
DAYS 2-3
A cosmic experience down in the Valle del Elquí
DAYS 2-3
The following morning, we are on the road again. We’re going towards the North, the small one as they say, the Norte Chico, and it’s gonna be a long ride. Chile might not be a big country, but it’s a tall one!
Indeed, from north to south, it’s probably as long as Canada can be wide. Needless to say there’s also probably as much variety in the Chilean climate and its ecosystems as we have in the Cold Country. With a Mediterranean-like centre, where olives and vines grow between tall alleys of poplars, a ocean seaside of dry grey hills and cacti, the driest desert in the world as well as one of the wettest area in the world with rainforests, the visitor never gets bored, not even during a 5 hours-long drive. Tested and true.
Reaching La Serena, that we will be visiting on our way back, we leave the coast and enter the Valle del Elquí. Following the Rio Elqui that carves its way across multicoloured desert hills, it’s no wonder that the green irrigated valley is renowned for its mysticism that attracts as many backpackers looking for the untouched lands as hippies looking for the apparently common UFO manifestations. It also has its share of weird sects and gurus who see in this lunar scenery the perfect spot for spiritual awakening. In fact, to the Buddhist monks who established a monastery here, the Elquí would be the exact location where the magnetic flow re-enters the Earth before emerging again from somewhere out in Tibet. Talk about an attractive place…
On top of being the birthplace of most of Chile’s Pisco (that strong alcohol made from distilled grapes famously used in Pisco Sour, or Psycho Power as Fred would say), it’s also the birthplace of the first Latin American winner of a Nobel Prize of Literature, the great poetess Gabriela Mistral (some critics said she wrote even better than the other national literary hero, Pablo Neruda).
On top of being the birthplace of most of Chile’s Pisco (that strong alcohol made from distilled grapes famously used in Pisco Sour, or Psycho Power as Fred would say), it’s also the birthplace of the first Latin American winner of a Nobel Prize of Literature, the great poetess Gabriela Mistral (some critics said she wrote even better than the other national literary hero, Pablo Neruda).
As we finally arrive at another wonderful little hotel, justifiably named Misterios del Elqui, right on time for the traditional sunset Pisco Sour (yeah, our timing’s always perfect), I can tell this place can’t but inspire the most beautiful words.
Spending the following day lizarding (yep, as in I lizard, you lizard, we lizard…) next to the pool (but keeping away from the sun this time…I don’t give a damn about the colour of my skin anymore, I just don’t want it to fall off), eating great food and reading a good book (Pico Iyer: The Global Soul. If there are any Third Culture Kids reading me here, you guys have got to read that!), I am starting to wonder whether I shouldn’t stay up tonight to wait for the UFOs and ask them to make this moment last forever…
So I stayed up that night…didn’t see any UFOs but I did see some seriously starry sky.
I realise how little I know about the Universe, about stars and galaxies, about how small we are and how much there is up there, out there… Anyone here’s an astrophysicist who feels like explaining some of that to me?
I realise how little I know about the Universe, about stars and galaxies, about how small we are and how much there is up there, out there… Anyone here’s an astrophysicist who feels like explaining some of that to me?
Until I figure a bit of this out, I’ll just look at the craters on the moon with binoculars, try to spot the Southern Cross and Orion and draw lines that make funky shapes between this marvellous infinity of bright little spots.
Good times.
Good times.
…there, some pics for you hungry kids of the visual era.
En route for Pisco Elqui
Our first sunset
In the village
Two lovers in front of the village's church (my aunt and uncle celebrated their 31st anniversary on that day, the 31st...love love love)
The very ugly view from one end of the pool
The even uglier view from the other end
Inscription à :
Articles (Atom)
