Welcome to the rest of my life. This blog will be a record of my attempt to more fully become a part of my new environment. Variations on these entries will also be running in the Interior News, where I am currently gainfully employed; however, this site should allow me a bit more free reign to add more photos, post on a whim, and not be subject to space constraints.
A bit of history for those that have ended up here without knowing who I am:
I'm Jon.
Okay, no, that's not all. I'm a photographer and writer, and an unpaid musician and artist as well. I grew up in southern Ontario. My grandfather (on Mom's side) was a farmer. He grew grapes, peaches, plums, all sorts of tasty stuff. My other grandfather was 'online' when modems were measured in bytes. Although I grew up beside a farm, it was a 20 minute drive from the downtown of a city of 300,000, and within two hours of a very large portion of Canada's population.
I think that's a pretty balanced upbringing – I grew up with access to the latest technology, but beside open fields in a town that didn't have a stoplight until after I'd moved away.
Thanks to the farm and a series of interesting jobs, I don't mind getting dirty. At one point I even learned how to drive a tractor. However, growing up where I did was a far cry from the lifestyle where I am now – that being Smithers, B.C. For those keeping track, that's (depending who you ask) 12-15 hours north of Vancouver, four hours from anything resembling an urban centre, two hours from the closest Wal-Mart, and pretty much exactly where I've always dreamed of being (although until recently the dream was a list of criteria, not a specific town).
Life here is different. Mostly for the better, but often in ways that I hadn't considered before coming here. Often the differences are intangible; there's a certain attitude, a lack of pretension, a willingness to help, and a distinct lack of irony and cynicism that make for a refreshing change of pace from the last decade, which Amanda and I spent in downtown Toronto.
So, let's talk about my moment of revelation.
A habit I had back in Toronto was trolling online classified ads for all sorts of musical equipment that had almost outlived its usefulness. I actually packed a U-Haul full of it when we moved here, and enjoy making noise with all of my former state of the art technologies in the evenings. Crawling through one of the northwestern B.C. online classified listings, I found an ad for a cowbell. Have you seen that Will Ferrell sketch on Saturday Night Live? Of course, what my recordings need is more cowbell.
Well, the thing is, this ad was for literal cowbells. The kind meant for attaching to a cow, not a drum kit. In the same section was an ad for an elastrator, which the internet tells me is pretty much what it sounds like. (Go ahead, look it up. You know you want to.)
Nope, I'm definitely not in Toronto any more.
What these ads made me consider is that northern B.C. life is different in more ways than the obvious ones that drew me to this area of the country in the first place. There are many seeming contradictions to this place – environmentalists driving four wheel drive pickups, for example. There are cutting edge energy efficient homes, and a car share program, and several hybrid cars weaving in and out of the pickups on Highway 16. There are hunters that vote NDP, and conservationists that don't.
There are snowmobiles on the back of trucks, snowshoes outnumber dress shoes, and the nearest Ethiopian restaurant is over a day's drive away. The doctors are often South African, while the cab driver I met (there are only three of them) is Canadian born.
Many of the people I've met since my arrival in September came here from Ontario, or the prairies, or the lower mainland. Yet the way of life here seems to be a constant, despite a population that is constantly gaining and losing individuals from all over Canada and beyond.
The question I have is whether the lifestyle, the pastimes and culture are a result of the way of life here, or the cause; or maybe the things people do are simply a part of who they are (and I hope to one day be able to say a part of who we are). My aim is to attempt to find out in the coming weeks, months, and likely years - although by the time I start counting years I hope to be offering advice instead of asking for it.
If you've ever wanted to see if a (mostly) city boy can learn how to gut a fish, drive an atv, learn to enjoy folk music, or survive bug season, come back and visit again – I'll be waxing not-so-poetic here whenever the urge strikes to ramble on about something unique to life far from the city; or whenever someone tells me a decent story about growing up here, or learning to live here, or just a good story that deserves retelling.
And don't worry, there will be more pictures in future entries.
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