(no subject)
I`m in Montreal!
I spent 2 great days witht the love of my life in Toronto... oh, and Phil was there too.... just kidding.... the only love of my life besides Phil would be books, and I didn`t read that much while I was over there... so I guess I must be talking about Phil.
We had Cambodian food and rented movies with his dad and sister, and we went to a church service in this really beautiful old prespertyrian church (think I spelled that wrong) downtown... The church was all huge with darkly stained, ornate wood pillers and pews... cushioned pews might I add... always a bonus.
anyway, Phil`s dad dropped me off by the highway on Monday morning, and I got a ride almost immediately with an agent. That`s right, one of those secret government agent people that no one really knows or cares if Canada has. He was cool, mentioned he was an agent and then kinda left the subject, tho he showed me this radio phone they got this year, and he told me about this old spy training school that is the claim-to-fame for one of the towns on the outskirts of Toronto.
My next ride was with a male model. He was coming back from an audition... he showed me his portfolio and holy crud... talk about nice... peircing blue eyes, dark hair, chiseled jawline... funny thing was this guy didn`t really look all that striking in real life. He looked OK and all... a good looking guy, and you could tell it was him in the pictures, but there was something different...
anyway, he`d recently been in a commercial (he`s been doing some acting) and on the cover of a harlequin romance novel. lol. He told me about his work and we discussed acting and the lack of oppurtunities right now in Toronto... apparently it`s never really picked up since the SARS incident.
My next ride was with a military guy, all uniformed and everything, but he didn`t speak english. He lived in Quebec City. He had amazing eyes... he`d picked up a hitchhiker before me who slightly resembled CHad Kroeger from Nickleback, except better looking and with really cool earrings... He`s from Halifax and spends most every summer just hitching it around the country and staying with people. He had a sweater over his arm and $10 in his pocket.
I decided to ride with them all the way to Quebec City, since I hadn`t been able to get ahold of Margot in Montreal.
-=- I`d just like to note, if anyone has been wondering, that other than admiring these guys for their aesthetically pleasing qualities, I honestly had no other feelings about them... no attraction, none of the usual (or at least, what used to be usual) nerves and incessant concern with how I looked or what they were thinking of me... actually my lack of any reaction at all surprised me when I stopped to dwell on it... I suppose it shouldn`t surprise me, but still, I find it unexpected -=-
I slept the night in my tent at a rest stop 10 minutes or so before Quebec city... I put my tarp down so as not to get dew on the bottom of my tent, and woke up to it pouring rain to find that the tarp created a puddle near my feet. Good thinking Bex.
It stopped raining for a bit, so I packed up as quickly as I could and made my way into the little building at the rest stop. There were bathrooms and pay phones, and I made my phone calls... at first I got ahold of no one, so I sat for an hour and waited for my cell phone to charge, finishing one of my books and beginning another, my 8th so far... and then I got ahold of Cathrine! I hitched into the city and met her at a Burger King and we drove together through Old Quebec, me taking pictures of the parks, varying beautiful architecture, and touristy carriages lining the streets. It was raining, but there were still people everywhere.
Cath insisted that I take a bus to Trois Riviere, so we found me a schedule and then sat together and talked and ate Iced Cream. It was wonderful... Reminiscing on Katimavik...
On the bus I called my father`s cousin Andrea. I got her husband Gaston and he gave me his address. I had no idea how I would get there, but I decided I`d do my best. Arriving in Trois Riviere I was pleased to see it wasn`t a large city. I got lost a couple of times finding the tourist information depot, and I was a little too emberassed to try with my halting french to ask directions, but finally I got there. Three Rivers is built next to the St. Lawrence, and it`s very pretty. Some of the buildings in the old downtown are as pretty, old, and European-looking as those in old Quebec. I love that part of Eastern Canada... the old buildings. I love it so much.
Finding that Andrea`s house was too far to walk, I got instructions for the city buses and sat down to wait. after waiting for 45 minutes (the bus was half hour late) I called Andrea and she came to pick me up. She took me in for the night and the next morning she took me to discover the branch of my family I`ve longed to know for quite some time now.
My dad lived for 11 years or so after his mother`s death, with his aunt and 7 cousins during the `40s in a town called Louiseville. Andrea took me to the house where he grew up. She drove me along the streets where he played and walked, and painted for me a picture of a smart, studious, quiet young boy with his nose always in a book.
I spent most of today fighting tears.
I met Daddy`s Aunt Alelmina (now approaching 103) and his childhood best friend and cousin of the exact same age, Clair (who will be 72 this year, if she`s not already).
I took notes on family relationships and discovered the existance of more cousins than I`d ever suspected on that side of the family. Apparently one of my grandpere`s sisters had 12 kids....
I need to know more.
but for now, I`m overjoyed to know what I do know.
Last night I called my sister Margot`s number and finally someone picked up, but the guy spoke french to me, and altho he said Margot was there, when I said my name he said I had the wrong number. I was confused and afraid and nervous so I just hung up and sat there for a minute. Andrea came in and insisted on calling the number again and speaking to them. It was Philip, my 17 yr old nephew, who had answered, and he`d thought I said my name was Polka! I need to remember to use Rebekah instead of Bekah in french, cuz it`s confusing otherwise. It sounds odd, and actually very much like Polka, with a french accent, and I do tend to speak with a french accent when I`m speaking french (no duh...)
So after supper Andrea and Gaston headed to Montreal, since Gaston has a Dr.`s appointment in the morning tomorrow, and they dropped me off at my sister`s house.
I have not seen her or anyone here for 5 years, and it was wonderful. It IS wonderful. She`s as I remember her, and we click just as well as we always did, talking for 2 hours. Anne-Marie, my neice (at 23) was here for a bit, and we talked and laughed... Philip is obviously older than he was 5 years ago, and honestly I wouldn`t recognize him. I haven`t seen Steve yet... I`m bedding down on the living room floor tho, so I`m sure I`ll hear him come in. He`s 21.
Just in case anyone`s really confused, My father was 23 years older than my mother, and had 2 children some 45 years ago, to his first wife, who are my half-brother and sister. Margot has 3 children, Roger has 1. My nephews and neice are all older than me except for Philip. Roger is on vacation in Switzerland right now, so sadly I miss seeinig him... and I really do miss it. I love Roger as much as I love Margot... and that`s a lot. I really enjoye their company.
tomorrow I think I must begin the long and possibly arduous journey to Winnipeg. It will not be easy, so much luck to be wished and much prayers to be had... I should arrive a chez Ebony in about 3-5 days, give or take.
I should call her.
I spent 2 great days witht the love of my life in Toronto... oh, and Phil was there too.... just kidding.... the only love of my life besides Phil would be books, and I didn`t read that much while I was over there... so I guess I must be talking about Phil.
We had Cambodian food and rented movies with his dad and sister, and we went to a church service in this really beautiful old prespertyrian church (think I spelled that wrong) downtown... The church was all huge with darkly stained, ornate wood pillers and pews... cushioned pews might I add... always a bonus.
anyway, Phil`s dad dropped me off by the highway on Monday morning, and I got a ride almost immediately with an agent. That`s right, one of those secret government agent people that no one really knows or cares if Canada has. He was cool, mentioned he was an agent and then kinda left the subject, tho he showed me this radio phone they got this year, and he told me about this old spy training school that is the claim-to-fame for one of the towns on the outskirts of Toronto.
My next ride was with a male model. He was coming back from an audition... he showed me his portfolio and holy crud... talk about nice... peircing blue eyes, dark hair, chiseled jawline... funny thing was this guy didn`t really look all that striking in real life. He looked OK and all... a good looking guy, and you could tell it was him in the pictures, but there was something different...
anyway, he`d recently been in a commercial (he`s been doing some acting) and on the cover of a harlequin romance novel. lol. He told me about his work and we discussed acting and the lack of oppurtunities right now in Toronto... apparently it`s never really picked up since the SARS incident.
My next ride was with a military guy, all uniformed and everything, but he didn`t speak english. He lived in Quebec City. He had amazing eyes... he`d picked up a hitchhiker before me who slightly resembled CHad Kroeger from Nickleback, except better looking and with really cool earrings... He`s from Halifax and spends most every summer just hitching it around the country and staying with people. He had a sweater over his arm and $10 in his pocket.
I decided to ride with them all the way to Quebec City, since I hadn`t been able to get ahold of Margot in Montreal.
-=- I`d just like to note, if anyone has been wondering, that other than admiring these guys for their aesthetically pleasing qualities, I honestly had no other feelings about them... no attraction, none of the usual (or at least, what used to be usual) nerves and incessant concern with how I looked or what they were thinking of me... actually my lack of any reaction at all surprised me when I stopped to dwell on it... I suppose it shouldn`t surprise me, but still, I find it unexpected -=-
I slept the night in my tent at a rest stop 10 minutes or so before Quebec city... I put my tarp down so as not to get dew on the bottom of my tent, and woke up to it pouring rain to find that the tarp created a puddle near my feet. Good thinking Bex.
It stopped raining for a bit, so I packed up as quickly as I could and made my way into the little building at the rest stop. There were bathrooms and pay phones, and I made my phone calls... at first I got ahold of no one, so I sat for an hour and waited for my cell phone to charge, finishing one of my books and beginning another, my 8th so far... and then I got ahold of Cathrine! I hitched into the city and met her at a Burger King and we drove together through Old Quebec, me taking pictures of the parks, varying beautiful architecture, and touristy carriages lining the streets. It was raining, but there were still people everywhere.
Cath insisted that I take a bus to Trois Riviere, so we found me a schedule and then sat together and talked and ate Iced Cream. It was wonderful... Reminiscing on Katimavik...
On the bus I called my father`s cousin Andrea. I got her husband Gaston and he gave me his address. I had no idea how I would get there, but I decided I`d do my best. Arriving in Trois Riviere I was pleased to see it wasn`t a large city. I got lost a couple of times finding the tourist information depot, and I was a little too emberassed to try with my halting french to ask directions, but finally I got there. Three Rivers is built next to the St. Lawrence, and it`s very pretty. Some of the buildings in the old downtown are as pretty, old, and European-looking as those in old Quebec. I love that part of Eastern Canada... the old buildings. I love it so much.
Finding that Andrea`s house was too far to walk, I got instructions for the city buses and sat down to wait. after waiting for 45 minutes (the bus was half hour late) I called Andrea and she came to pick me up. She took me in for the night and the next morning she took me to discover the branch of my family I`ve longed to know for quite some time now.
My dad lived for 11 years or so after his mother`s death, with his aunt and 7 cousins during the `40s in a town called Louiseville. Andrea took me to the house where he grew up. She drove me along the streets where he played and walked, and painted for me a picture of a smart, studious, quiet young boy with his nose always in a book.
I spent most of today fighting tears.
I met Daddy`s Aunt Alelmina (now approaching 103) and his childhood best friend and cousin of the exact same age, Clair (who will be 72 this year, if she`s not already).
I took notes on family relationships and discovered the existance of more cousins than I`d ever suspected on that side of the family. Apparently one of my grandpere`s sisters had 12 kids....
I need to know more.
but for now, I`m overjoyed to know what I do know.
Last night I called my sister Margot`s number and finally someone picked up, but the guy spoke french to me, and altho he said Margot was there, when I said my name he said I had the wrong number. I was confused and afraid and nervous so I just hung up and sat there for a minute. Andrea came in and insisted on calling the number again and speaking to them. It was Philip, my 17 yr old nephew, who had answered, and he`d thought I said my name was Polka! I need to remember to use Rebekah instead of Bekah in french, cuz it`s confusing otherwise. It sounds odd, and actually very much like Polka, with a french accent, and I do tend to speak with a french accent when I`m speaking french (no duh...)
So after supper Andrea and Gaston headed to Montreal, since Gaston has a Dr.`s appointment in the morning tomorrow, and they dropped me off at my sister`s house.
I have not seen her or anyone here for 5 years, and it was wonderful. It IS wonderful. She`s as I remember her, and we click just as well as we always did, talking for 2 hours. Anne-Marie, my neice (at 23) was here for a bit, and we talked and laughed... Philip is obviously older than he was 5 years ago, and honestly I wouldn`t recognize him. I haven`t seen Steve yet... I`m bedding down on the living room floor tho, so I`m sure I`ll hear him come in. He`s 21.
Just in case anyone`s really confused, My father was 23 years older than my mother, and had 2 children some 45 years ago, to his first wife, who are my half-brother and sister. Margot has 3 children, Roger has 1. My nephews and neice are all older than me except for Philip. Roger is on vacation in Switzerland right now, so sadly I miss seeinig him... and I really do miss it. I love Roger as much as I love Margot... and that`s a lot. I really enjoye their company.
tomorrow I think I must begin the long and possibly arduous journey to Winnipeg. It will not be easy, so much luck to be wished and much prayers to be had... I should arrive a chez Ebony in about 3-5 days, give or take.
I should call her.