1) My first sidewalk crapper. Urination, I´ve seen. Defecation in public is a whole other level. It sort of fit in the surroundings though.
2) On Av. Del Sol I was offered a variety of items for purchase. This is not unusual in itself however, the fact that someone decided to corner the market on small hand saws (and only small hand saws) on the sidewalk intruigues me a bit (how many are they going to sell?). Already taken items: batteries, squeegee brushes, hand saws, finger puppets, toothpaste....I wonder if I could make a killing with salt and pepper shakers. One can actually buy toilet paper through a car window while stopped at a light.
3) A first, of likely many, bootlegged items. The new Harry Potter today, in spanish, $3. I think it will help to read something I´ve already read in English. It looks pretty kosher wrapped in its plastic but its an obvious photocopy once opened. Here I come roadside movie stands!
4) Chewed hoja de coca (yeah, cocaine plant is legal here) with my spanish teacher during class. It really isn´t all that bada·· but it sounds like it. Nothing happened; surprise, they tasted like leaves, all dry...and crunchy...mmm.
Friday, September 28
Monday, September 24
Poorer in Plata, richer in knowledge
This past weekend has been a good one for finally exploring a bit more. Let me break it down for ya´ll.
Friday: After class myself and two fellow students caught a taxi to Tipon (a town about a half hour outside cusco) for a little Peruvian delicacy. Remember Polka Dot Door? Remember their pet G.P.? Well, I ate him! We walk into this dive (in isn´t really the right word because its more out than in) and the transaction goes like this
¨How many plates?¨
¨Three, please¨
¨Small, med, or large?¨
¨All small¨
¨With heads or without?¨
¨One with, two without¨
It was that easy. You got it, I ate a guinea pig. Mine was a headless one but it still looked like the animal (quartered) with its claws intact and the little ribbies inside. A good anatomy lesson. Too bad they have very little meat and quite a bit of fat. I didn´t eat much of it but I tried it and you didn´t.
Saturday: Justine and I took a bus up to some ruins called TamboMachay and walked back down, hitting four other sites on the way. The first set weren´t much to see so I spent more time falling the calls of some sheep but the rest, while not very large, were quite impressive. The stone architecture of the Incas is really unmatched by other civilizations. The last site and the largest (SacsayHuaman) consisted of a triple terraced defence wall that zigzigs and a large mound with rockslides on one slide (called ¨The Sliding Place¨in Quechua). The slides were popular in Inca times and still pretty darn fun. I bet little Inca kids would say things like ¨Mom, can I go hang out at the slides¨? ¨Not until you finish husking your corn, Wayruta¨Or something like that.
Today-Sunday: Bussed to Pisac with four others (4.40 soles round trip = $1.35 for two hours on the bus) to see some ruins and a market. The market was massive and fairly amazing (although a bit repetitive after a while) and I didn´t even see the ruins. I turned around when I found out I needed a very expensive ticket that would run out before I could use it again. I´ll see them but plan it a bit better.
Something finally hit me yesterday: I can´t get Pepsi anywhere in the country! No Pepsi? Ok, not the end of the world but sometimes you just have a craving. On top of that, if it has to be Coke couldn´t it be cold? Is that too much to ask? Obviously it is, sigh. One cannot locate ice cold (or even mildly cold) gaseosa ´round these parts. But seeing the way people live here it is a pretty incomparable hardship. I live in a very well-off neighbourhood but there aren´t words to describe the dilapidation in this city, of the colour of brown that seeps into everything. The pollution is incredible. The people are industrious. Even with 54% of people below the poverty line there are very few beggars. Not that you aren´t implored at every corner but it is for shoeshines, confections, phone calls, wherever there is the smallest need (often that of a tourist) someone has found a way to fill it. Just as I sat down to write this blog the earth trembled. Just slightly, just enough to cause notice, a small shake. My very first earthquake.
Friday: After class myself and two fellow students caught a taxi to Tipon (a town about a half hour outside cusco) for a little Peruvian delicacy. Remember Polka Dot Door? Remember their pet G.P.? Well, I ate him! We walk into this dive (in isn´t really the right word because its more out than in) and the transaction goes like this
¨How many plates?¨
¨Three, please¨
¨Small, med, or large?¨
¨All small¨
¨With heads or without?¨
¨One with, two without¨
It was that easy. You got it, I ate a guinea pig. Mine was a headless one but it still looked like the animal (quartered) with its claws intact and the little ribbies inside. A good anatomy lesson. Too bad they have very little meat and quite a bit of fat. I didn´t eat much of it but I tried it and you didn´t.
Saturday: Justine and I took a bus up to some ruins called TamboMachay and walked back down, hitting four other sites on the way. The first set weren´t much to see so I spent more time falling the calls of some sheep but the rest, while not very large, were quite impressive. The stone architecture of the Incas is really unmatched by other civilizations. The last site and the largest (SacsayHuaman) consisted of a triple terraced defence wall that zigzigs and a large mound with rockslides on one slide (called ¨The Sliding Place¨in Quechua). The slides were popular in Inca times and still pretty darn fun. I bet little Inca kids would say things like ¨Mom, can I go hang out at the slides¨? ¨Not until you finish husking your corn, Wayruta¨Or something like that.
Today-Sunday: Bussed to Pisac with four others (4.40 soles round trip = $1.35 for two hours on the bus) to see some ruins and a market. The market was massive and fairly amazing (although a bit repetitive after a while) and I didn´t even see the ruins. I turned around when I found out I needed a very expensive ticket that would run out before I could use it again. I´ll see them but plan it a bit better.
Something finally hit me yesterday: I can´t get Pepsi anywhere in the country! No Pepsi? Ok, not the end of the world but sometimes you just have a craving. On top of that, if it has to be Coke couldn´t it be cold? Is that too much to ask? Obviously it is, sigh. One cannot locate ice cold (or even mildly cold) gaseosa ´round these parts. But seeing the way people live here it is a pretty incomparable hardship. I live in a very well-off neighbourhood but there aren´t words to describe the dilapidation in this city, of the colour of brown that seeps into everything. The pollution is incredible. The people are industrious. Even with 54% of people below the poverty line there are very few beggars. Not that you aren´t implored at every corner but it is for shoeshines, confections, phone calls, wherever there is the smallest need (often that of a tourist) someone has found a way to fill it. Just as I sat down to write this blog the earth trembled. Just slightly, just enough to cause notice, a small shake. My very first earthquake.
Wednesday, September 19
The Ruins of Sexy Woman
My theory: the only thing keeping the cab drivers and the passengers alive here are the massive dashboard shrines, because it certainly isn´t the nonexistant seatbelts. Every driver (or Chofer) has pictures and charms of Jesus and their favourite saints adorning the cloth and fringe-covered dashboard. This month was the festival of Señor de Huanca so they all have a banner above the windshield (in velvet and gold letters no less) welcoming him or something like that.
As for sight seeing I have to admit to not doing any yet (save for climbing up a ridiculous amount of stairs to a pretty poor area and catching a magnificent view of the whole city). However, this weekend calls for a visit to the ruins of Sacsayhuaman (pronounced similar to 'Sexy Woman' with a spanish accent). Apparently it is a half hour walk uphill from the school...woot.
Let's talk tourism though. It is hard to separate the evils and good of tourism in Cusco. It appears that the most common ways to make money here are: drive a taxi, sell your paintings to tourists or hawk postcards at restaurants (substitute carvings, finger puppets, jewelry, etc. for postcards). These jobs wouldn{t exist without tourists, would they be needed? Likely they would. From the history of Perú it seems that the government got the country into a bit of a financial bind well before tourists overran the place. Would the culture be on sale at every turn? Probably not. It is sad to see women dressed in their traditional clothing and carrying a lamb around to make tips by posing with tourists but one can't really blame them. If you needed money for food and tourists would pay you for something you had, you would sell it...even if it was your image. Oh, and talk about pollution with all of the taxi's- I don't need to take up smoking just a brisk walk to the grocery store.}
As for sight seeing I have to admit to not doing any yet (save for climbing up a ridiculous amount of stairs to a pretty poor area and catching a magnificent view of the whole city). However, this weekend calls for a visit to the ruins of Sacsayhuaman (pronounced similar to 'Sexy Woman' with a spanish accent). Apparently it is a half hour walk uphill from the school...woot.
Let's talk tourism though. It is hard to separate the evils and good of tourism in Cusco. It appears that the most common ways to make money here are: drive a taxi, sell your paintings to tourists or hawk postcards at restaurants (substitute carvings, finger puppets, jewelry, etc. for postcards). These jobs wouldn{t exist without tourists, would they be needed? Likely they would. From the history of Perú it seems that the government got the country into a bit of a financial bind well before tourists overran the place. Would the culture be on sale at every turn? Probably not. It is sad to see women dressed in their traditional clothing and carrying a lamb around to make tips by posing with tourists but one can't really blame them. If you needed money for food and tourists would pay you for something you had, you would sell it...even if it was your image. Oh, and talk about pollution with all of the taxi's- I don't need to take up smoking just a brisk walk to the grocery store.}
Friday, September 14
Can no longer claim my title
Me duele la cabeza por el primero tiempo de mi vida. I have a headache for the first time in my life. Nothing brutal so I can{t complain at all but I will no longer be able to use it when playing ¨I have never. The altitude will get you but I took it easy last night and today I paid for school and will getting acquainted with the town.
THe answer to everything here is ¨coca¨which I suppose makes Cusco similar to Vancouver. Not chocolate (cacao) but the leaf which cocaine is derived from. They give me glass after glass of the tea and it tastes good! The Spanish is coming back quickly. HOwever, concepts like ¨I feel¨or ¨I would, I could, ¨are difficult right now so I mostly stay in the concrete of life. It actually means I keep my mouth shut and listen quite a bit more; a new skill for me.
As for my homestay, it couldn´t be better. There is another student, a girl from Montreal, staying at the home. The house is home to an older couple and their married daughter and adorable grandson who is about 1 year old. There is also a domestic helper and her daughter Veronica who are always there (I don{t think they live there though) and a young indigenous boy who also works in the house ¨´villi¨. The home is hidden behind a wall and has a courtyard in the middle where their TWO DOGS stay (blondy, a golden retreiver pup, and puski, a mutt). Our rooms open onto an outdoor balcony that looks out over homes and a mountain (did I mention I was spoiled?) The other student and I share a bathroom with two sinks and two showers and HOT WATER!
I am doing my best to be open to the food and luckily they have been kind so far. For dinner was a beef product though, which I ate, I think it has actually been years since I have eaten something like a steak. For breakfast Aleja (Ah LAY ha) made papya smoothie things but something different is they don{t drink cold drinks so it was warm....but drinkable once it cooled off lol.
For three months my name will be ´Kah-tee´. I like it, its different. And hey, I get the T pronounced now. Pictures to come sometime this week I hope. There is so much to say but I´ll save it for another time.
oh yeah, Taxi´s are SO cheap here. I feel really bad. To go for about a 10 minute ride it is two soles. That is about 60 cents. What? The meter starts at way over that in Canada, but here there are no meters. ALso, I had to cash my travelers cheques to pay for school. So we're standing in the open doorway of a little shop counting out $2000 in cash. They gave me free chiclets for changing with them. Neato.
The flight here was also the nicest I htink I have ever been on. Comfy leather-ish seats, a good snack, oh and the view of THE ANDES. At one point while still climbing in altitude the clouds made the mountains appear like a mirage. And, guess what played on the flight?? Just for Laughs Gags, straight out of montreal. I guess its funny no matter what language you speak!
THe answer to everything here is ¨coca¨which I suppose makes Cusco similar to Vancouver. Not chocolate (cacao) but the leaf which cocaine is derived from. They give me glass after glass of the tea and it tastes good! The Spanish is coming back quickly. HOwever, concepts like ¨I feel¨or ¨I would, I could, ¨are difficult right now so I mostly stay in the concrete of life. It actually means I keep my mouth shut and listen quite a bit more; a new skill for me.
As for my homestay, it couldn´t be better. There is another student, a girl from Montreal, staying at the home. The house is home to an older couple and their married daughter and adorable grandson who is about 1 year old. There is also a domestic helper and her daughter Veronica who are always there (I don{t think they live there though) and a young indigenous boy who also works in the house ¨´villi¨. The home is hidden behind a wall and has a courtyard in the middle where their TWO DOGS stay (blondy, a golden retreiver pup, and puski, a mutt). Our rooms open onto an outdoor balcony that looks out over homes and a mountain (did I mention I was spoiled?) The other student and I share a bathroom with two sinks and two showers and HOT WATER!
I am doing my best to be open to the food and luckily they have been kind so far. For dinner was a beef product though, which I ate, I think it has actually been years since I have eaten something like a steak. For breakfast Aleja (Ah LAY ha) made papya smoothie things but something different is they don{t drink cold drinks so it was warm....but drinkable once it cooled off lol.
For three months my name will be ´Kah-tee´. I like it, its different. And hey, I get the T pronounced now. Pictures to come sometime this week I hope. There is so much to say but I´ll save it for another time.
oh yeah, Taxi´s are SO cheap here. I feel really bad. To go for about a 10 minute ride it is two soles. That is about 60 cents. What? The meter starts at way over that in Canada, but here there are no meters. ALso, I had to cash my travelers cheques to pay for school. So we're standing in the open doorway of a little shop counting out $2000 in cash. They gave me free chiclets for changing with them. Neato.
The flight here was also the nicest I htink I have ever been on. Comfy leather-ish seats, a good snack, oh and the view of THE ANDES. At one point while still climbing in altitude the clouds made the mountains appear like a mirage. And, guess what played on the flight?? Just for Laughs Gags, straight out of montreal. I guess its funny no matter what language you speak!
Thursday, September 13
Tired and constipated in Lima
My first experience of an internet cafe and I had to ask how to use the @ sign. It is a pretty significant amount of work for such a common symbol, having to press ALT and then hit 64 consecutively. I would not have figured that out on my own. Here I am, in badly need of a toothbrushing and a change of clothes but feeling fairly awake and excited to get started. The flight was so horribly uneventful I have nothing really to report except that my connecting flight from Miami to Lima was late so I missed my last leg to Cusco by, oh, three minutes!! But being unable to do anything about it until about an hour later when the American Airlines reps got in I considered crying about it and then decided to laugh and get some reading done. An observation: I would not have fit in in Miami. That´s ok with me. So far I haven¨t really had to use my Spanish too much except for an occasional gracias, which is probably good because my skills have seriously degraded. I did whip out ¨tres meses, por favor¨when bartering with the immigrations agent who insisted on giving be only 60 days entry into the country and not the 90 I needed. But he caved. After I was given a ticket onto a later flight (1pm in an hour and a half) it struck me that I was hungry (midnight lasagna on the plane didn¨t hold me past 630am so I went in search of some local cuisine. I was a bit disappointed to find that I recognized almost every food distributor except ¨Manos Morenas¨or ¨dark hands¨as it translates... Determined not to make my first meal in South America a trip to McDonald´s I settled for a donut and water at Dunkin´Donuts (I had no idea they cornered the Peru market). Even the donuts are different. The icings are almost neon and have flavours like pistaschio. I went for a halloween-y ¨durazno y chocolate¨or peach and chocolate (you figured out the chocolate all by yourself, didn´t you?) and it really tasted like peaches. Anywho, after losing three soles (the currency) to a pay phone in order to inform the school that I would be late arriving at the airport I was reassured by the fact that it seems as if they pretty much forgot that I was to arrive at 715 so it wasn´t a problem to come at 2. Oh, random event: so a band starts playing and film crews are squishing this stylish latina woman while she walks through the airport. The crowd then stops, parts and the band plays some traditional latin music while many of the excited followers begin dancing with her around the circle and waving some papers. I wish I knew what was going on but I decided to test out my Spanish right then and there and asked in my best accent who the woman was. Well of course I had to smile and nod when the reply was in Spanish. I think....that maybe....she was some sort of Spanish figurehead and was allowing some sort of immigration papers for some native peoples. Or nothing like that.
ps. I copy and pasted this. I apologize that it has no paragraph breaks but it did and now I don´t care enough to put them back
ps. I copy and pasted this. I apologize that it has no paragraph breaks but it did and now I don´t care enough to put them back
Wednesday, September 12
It was Jose's beanstalk and he lived in Leamington
Contrary to what some might believe I am not yet in Peru but still on Canadian grass. Which will only be true for approximately two more hours. Mark and I came down to Essex on Monday where I could be spoiled by his family for a few days and then fly out at 6pm tonight. Yesterday we decided to visit Colasanti's, a local petting zoo/tropical garden (although I was a little uneasy at supporting a place that would import lion cubs...sigh). We got a bit turned around and ended up driving through Leamington instead of finding the zoo and I was so excited by the little town that he suggested we skip the zoo thing and walk around downtown Leamington. I'm no longer allowed to use the phrase "this is one of my favourite places in the world!" so liberally since I apparently throw it about too often (but maybe they really are ALL my favourite places!) so I won't go that far but it was pretty nifty.
Leamington: the little mexican haven in southern Ontario. A mexican consular office, restaurants, grocery stores. The migrant workers have really added their own flavour to the town and it is so welcoming. On top of all that this little community has its very own Fair Trade store. Everything in it is traded fairly (meaning people who made the goods, often women and children, were given a fair price to allow them to support themselves) and the staff is all by volunteer. I found a fantastic leather ring and some chocolate grown in Ghana (very tasty!). Mark got himself a little basket to use as a candy dish that came all the way from Bangladesh and some more chocolate. This place is a hidden jewel.
The time is ticking by so I should end this and not spend my last hours on a computer. I am going to miss the local amenities and warm showers and vast English literature but it is all worth it. Here's to a safe trip!
Leamington: the little mexican haven in southern Ontario. A mexican consular office, restaurants, grocery stores. The migrant workers have really added their own flavour to the town and it is so welcoming. On top of all that this little community has its very own Fair Trade store. Everything in it is traded fairly (meaning people who made the goods, often women and children, were given a fair price to allow them to support themselves) and the staff is all by volunteer. I found a fantastic leather ring and some chocolate grown in Ghana (very tasty!). Mark got himself a little basket to use as a candy dish that came all the way from Bangladesh and some more chocolate. This place is a hidden jewel.
The time is ticking by so I should end this and not spend my last hours on a computer. I am going to miss the local amenities and warm showers and vast English literature but it is all worth it. Here's to a safe trip!
Tuesday, September 4
Monday, September 3
All about the Benjamins (translation: Queen's heads for canadians)
With about 6.7 billion people in the world I guess I can't complain about being the 837,849,304th richest person in the world. I could look at it and fret that over EIGHT HUNDRED MILLION PEOPLE are richer than I am, however there isn't a whole lot I'm about to do about it and this puts me in the top %13 of the world in terms of wealth.
Oh wait, did I forget to mention that the ranking above is MINE. Not my entire household income from living with my parents (their income puts them somewhere around the 51 millionth richest people in the world or top 0.85%) but MY income, after taxed, having worked for only 4 months of the year, for the summer, at $12 an hour. An amount that couldn't come close to supporting a Canadian family (or a single for that matter). Living in the top %15 of the world, had i had to pay my own living expenses I would have little to show for it. An ipod? Not likely. The luxury of three months to expand my horizons and 'find myelf'? Wouldn't happen. It is pretty incredible to look at how underprivileged I feel when I can't drop wads of cash for that really cute new dress in the store.
Oh wait, did I forget to mention that the ranking above is MINE. Not my entire household income from living with my parents (their income puts them somewhere around the 51 millionth richest people in the world or top 0.85%) but MY income, after taxed, having worked for only 4 months of the year, for the summer, at $12 an hour. An amount that couldn't come close to supporting a Canadian family (or a single for that matter). Living in the top %15 of the world, had i had to pay my own living expenses I would have little to show for it. An ipod? Not likely. The luxury of three months to expand my horizons and 'find myelf'? Wouldn't happen. It is pretty incredible to look at how underprivileged I feel when I can't drop wads of cash for that really cute new dress in the store.
Friday, August 31
Blog Day
So, it's Blog Day apparently. How I almost let that slip I'm unsure. The way to celebrate this holiday is to post links to 5 new blogs (supposed to be out of one's normal realm of blogdom and culture).
I can't claim to be reading that made new blogs however I will make a contribution. My best discovery so far has been travelblog, a site that hosts nomadic blogs by some very fascinating (and, of course, not so fascinating) people. There are forums to discuss books to take backpacking and millions of photos from all over the world. One of the best features is their search function. A reader interested in a certain area can narrow it down to only entries written about a specific region or country. I recommend choosing obscure or difficult to travel to places (ex. bosnia, tajikistan, etc.) and live vicariously through the people who somehow take years off their lives to see the world.
I have had the privilege of reading the travels of a few adventurers. A surprisingly common route is to go from Eastern Europe to China by land (ie, poland, turkey, armenia, uzbekistan, pakistan, india, .....) The one I'm hooked on right now is the aspiringnomad who happens to be taking just that route. His photography of the local people is almost National Geographic quality and he even pays attention to composition.
Warning: This site is dangerous as it may cause you to be severely jealous and to consider taking a year (or 3) off of your 'real life' and trekking through the mountains to remote communities of Bangladesh.
Happy Travels.
I can't claim to be reading that made new blogs however I will make a contribution. My best discovery so far has been travelblog, a site that hosts nomadic blogs by some very fascinating (and, of course, not so fascinating) people. There are forums to discuss books to take backpacking and millions of photos from all over the world. One of the best features is their search function. A reader interested in a certain area can narrow it down to only entries written about a specific region or country. I recommend choosing obscure or difficult to travel to places (ex. bosnia, tajikistan, etc.) and live vicariously through the people who somehow take years off their lives to see the world.
I have had the privilege of reading the travels of a few adventurers. A surprisingly common route is to go from Eastern Europe to China by land (ie, poland, turkey, armenia, uzbekistan, pakistan, india, .....) The one I'm hooked on right now is the aspiringnomad who happens to be taking just that route. His photography of the local people is almost National Geographic quality and he even pays attention to composition.
Warning: This site is dangerous as it may cause you to be severely jealous and to consider taking a year (or 3) off of your 'real life' and trekking through the mountains to remote communities of Bangladesh.
Happy Travels.
Tuesday, August 28
Audrey Berdusco (Cameron) April 25 1928 - August 17 2007
This has been longer in coming than for my Nonno. Maybe it is harder to write down 22 years of history with Nana because she was the second to leave, the last in their home. I keep being asked what I would like from their home, be it furniture, jewelry, books, etc. Those aren't the things that mattered to me though.
If I wanted something to remember time with her it would have to be old worn cards, with the blue designs on the back. We used to stay up past my bedtime, her with her coffee in a big mug and saucer and a cigarette (until she started pretending she no longer smoked), and play 1 to 13.
Some old coins possibly since she would take out her coin collection (Buffalo nickels, bills from 1923, Scottish currency) and pour over it coin by coin so she could tell me the story behind it.
Old photographs. Family meant everything to Nana and she had dug up and saved photos from the dawn of photography. She had few living relatives (save some distant cousins) but she would tell me stories of her mother and father and uncles and show pictures of their lives at the turn of the century.
The little glass animals we used to play with in the family room.
One thing no one could deny about her is that she was so strong. As an only child she married the oldest of 8 children and would often be left to take care of the youngest of them while the in-laws we out or away. Not only did she care for nonno and her 5 children but she seemed to draw needy people to her and never refused them: neighbours with abusive husbands, ailing parents and in-laws, local children. Even in her last year our distant cousin began helping with her renovations in his free time outside school and sports practice. In the few months they spent together she treated him like a grandson and he saw her as a grandmother that he never had. He was a pallbearer and it meant quite so much to see that she was still doing what she did best at the end of her life.
She spent her last few weeks in the hospital meant that we were somewhat prepared and I was able to visit regularly. Sometimes she would be too confused or uncomfortable to hold a conversation but others she would be completely coherent. Even while she suffered she would encourage me. She would ask me questions about my plans for the future, my plans to travel but then nod and assure me that I would always make the right choice. One afternoon I brought out my Bible and I read her some Psalms (Ps. 23 seemed an obvious choice but she had it memorized as the faithful Christian she was her whole life). We got to talking about heaven and somehow I ended up talking about our new bodies and new life after death in Jesus. Just while i was thinking she didn't want to hear what i had to say she put her hand over mine and said "This has really made me glad. " I miss my grandmother, there is so much more to say but I will end by saying I hope I can touch half as many lives as she did.
If I wanted something to remember time with her it would have to be old worn cards, with the blue designs on the back. We used to stay up past my bedtime, her with her coffee in a big mug and saucer and a cigarette (until she started pretending she no longer smoked), and play 1 to 13.
Some old coins possibly since she would take out her coin collection (Buffalo nickels, bills from 1923, Scottish currency) and pour over it coin by coin so she could tell me the story behind it.
Old photographs. Family meant everything to Nana and she had dug up and saved photos from the dawn of photography. She had few living relatives (save some distant cousins) but she would tell me stories of her mother and father and uncles and show pictures of their lives at the turn of the century.
The little glass animals we used to play with in the family room.
One thing no one could deny about her is that she was so strong. As an only child she married the oldest of 8 children and would often be left to take care of the youngest of them while the in-laws we out or away. Not only did she care for nonno and her 5 children but she seemed to draw needy people to her and never refused them: neighbours with abusive husbands, ailing parents and in-laws, local children. Even in her last year our distant cousin began helping with her renovations in his free time outside school and sports practice. In the few months they spent together she treated him like a grandson and he saw her as a grandmother that he never had. He was a pallbearer and it meant quite so much to see that she was still doing what she did best at the end of her life.
She spent her last few weeks in the hospital meant that we were somewhat prepared and I was able to visit regularly. Sometimes she would be too confused or uncomfortable to hold a conversation but others she would be completely coherent. Even while she suffered she would encourage me. She would ask me questions about my plans for the future, my plans to travel but then nod and assure me that I would always make the right choice. One afternoon I brought out my Bible and I read her some Psalms (Ps. 23 seemed an obvious choice but she had it memorized as the faithful Christian she was her whole life). We got to talking about heaven and somehow I ended up talking about our new bodies and new life after death in Jesus. Just while i was thinking she didn't want to hear what i had to say she put her hand over mine and said "This has really made me glad. " I miss my grandmother, there is so much more to say but I will end by saying I hope I can touch half as many lives as she did.
Sunday, August 26
new appendage
This magnificent piece of technology has become part of my being, an extra appendage although it would be less awkward if it came in 'flesh-tone'. I needed a new camera because the digicam I have is great but 1) is waaaaay too massive to allow me to be inconspicuous in the least in a developing country 2) is crazy slow between shots (hey, people in the market, could you stand still while my camera finds itself?) and 3) it is completely inadequate for indoor shots, it just can't do them.
This snappy young thing is teeny enough to fit in my pocket and continues to blow my mind with all of its neato features. For one, my very favourite right now, is the colour select option. What doest that mean? I can choose a colour in a scene and then the camera only registers that colour and the rest appears in black and white. Think Schindler's List.
Regular old 'out-the-window' picture becomes crazy with the blueness of the sky contrasted with the black and white of the street. Oh how camera functions make me a good photographer.
My camera happened to be on hand at work on saturday when Kumala the Ugandan Giant (!!!!) was just outside signing autographs. Apparently he is famous. And not Ugandan. He is from Tennessee.
Friday, August 24
Want not, Waste much
This summer I have been keeping up my act of at least looking like I care about the environment. I shop with canvas bags, recycle (most of the time), try biking (although not as much these last few weeks), etc. Oh I even keep up the pretense of being an informed, liberal university graduate and buy my Adbusters sometimes. The latest issue I read while on the elliptical machine at the local YMCA and was immediately drawn to an article about learning about environmentalism from our grandparents.
Thinking it was going to be about ways they learned to conserve I was surprised when it actually talked about their no-garbage lifestyle. I had heard about people going through the Great Depression and not wasting, I knew that it was likely a crime to leave food on your plate but I hadn’t quiet considered that an entire generation of people DIDN’T THROW THINGS OUT. This seems like an overstatement but it actually isn’t. They composted, they reused, they grew their own food and they bought good quality things that they took care of and used until they wore out.
This made me think: could I live even a week without generating fodder for our landfill (or even the recycling plant!)? I would have to seriously stop and think before I bought anything or risk being stuck with finding a use for an old chip bag (wash the grease out of the inside and voila! a….uh….new purse? We just don’t have a use for all the packaging out life comes with. If we had to put to use everything we consumed I believe we would consume quite a bit less. More unpackaged veggies and fewer individually wrapped snack cakes. Also, they saved scraps of paper from mail or butcher paper (instead of grocery store plastic and Styrofoam; who wants to write on that?). This seemed like something I could do except, wait, I have no use for those little scraps of paper. I already have an overabundance of scrap paper (old notebooks only partially used, pages and pages of discarded first drafts) that it would just add to the pile. Some things that I can do: stop eating things that come all packaged up! Nalgene, not water bottles (I am so bad for this!). Fewer new clothes (in fact, buy a few very good quality pieces, have them tailored and fixed and wear them forever…).
My hope is that this trip (which is 17 days away) will show me a simpler lifestyle where there is less waste and more respect for the things that we own. I can’t say I envy difficult times but privilege makes me wasteful.
Thinking it was going to be about ways they learned to conserve I was surprised when it actually talked about their no-garbage lifestyle. I had heard about people going through the Great Depression and not wasting, I knew that it was likely a crime to leave food on your plate but I hadn’t quiet considered that an entire generation of people DIDN’T THROW THINGS OUT. This seems like an overstatement but it actually isn’t. They composted, they reused, they grew their own food and they bought good quality things that they took care of and used until they wore out.
This made me think: could I live even a week without generating fodder for our landfill (or even the recycling plant!)? I would have to seriously stop and think before I bought anything or risk being stuck with finding a use for an old chip bag (wash the grease out of the inside and voila! a….uh….new purse? We just don’t have a use for all the packaging out life comes with. If we had to put to use everything we consumed I believe we would consume quite a bit less. More unpackaged veggies and fewer individually wrapped snack cakes. Also, they saved scraps of paper from mail or butcher paper (instead of grocery store plastic and Styrofoam; who wants to write on that?). This seemed like something I could do except, wait, I have no use for those little scraps of paper. I already have an overabundance of scrap paper (old notebooks only partially used, pages and pages of discarded first drafts) that it would just add to the pile. Some things that I can do: stop eating things that come all packaged up! Nalgene, not water bottles (I am so bad for this!). Fewer new clothes (in fact, buy a few very good quality pieces, have them tailored and fixed and wear them forever…).
My hope is that this trip (which is 17 days away) will show me a simpler lifestyle where there is less waste and more respect for the things that we own. I can’t say I envy difficult times but privilege makes me wasteful.
Wednesday, August 22
Green Dreams
The summer here has been exceedingly dry. Christopher Walken dry. This has contributed to an abundance of forest fires and sienna coloured lawns. What is worth noting is that many people have just given in to the brown-hued grass and let Al Gore's climate change take its course instead of sucking gallons of water from Lake Superior for pure aesthetics. This impresses me. There are some who refuse to give up the perfectly manicured dream (including our crazy next-door neighbour). Apparently this was bothering even more than I realized because a few nights ago I dreamed about my frustration: I was watching lawns being watered and trying to get up the nerve to knock on doors and ask people to consider leaving their lawns to yellow for the greater good. Deciding that I didn't have the (insert body part here) to do it I contemplated leaving flyers in mail boxes to encourage water conservation. This wouldn't work either because it would be a waste of paper so, not wanting to look like a hypocrite, I did nothing (well that I can remember at least). Am I all talk? I hope not.
Trip Update:
Due to some schedule problems (making up time for Bermuda, all the students leaving for school at the same time, etc) I found out today that I will be working until the 8th of september! Crap. I had hoped for at least a week off before I leave to pack and say goodbye. That has now dwindled to one day: Sunday. The 10th (yes, my mother's 50th birthday) we drive down through the states and I fly out a few days later. I still don't have health insurance, medication, traveler's cheques, gifts for my host family.....
Not to mention making my mom's birthday gift and planning her birthday party (both of which I'm excited and lucky to do be able to do but just wishing for 36 hour days)
Trip Update:
Due to some schedule problems (making up time for Bermuda, all the students leaving for school at the same time, etc) I found out today that I will be working until the 8th of september! Crap. I had hoped for at least a week off before I leave to pack and say goodbye. That has now dwindled to one day: Sunday. The 10th (yes, my mother's 50th birthday) we drive down through the states and I fly out a few days later. I still don't have health insurance, medication, traveler's cheques, gifts for my host family.....
Not to mention making my mom's birthday gift and planning her birthday party (both of which I'm excited and lucky to do be able to do but just wishing for 36 hour days)
Sunday, August 19
The Grieving Process
Friday, August 17th around 2am Audrey Jean Berdusco joined my grandfather and her husband of 52 years barely 8 months after he passed away. She could think of nothing else for the last few weeks.
Since that time I have wanted to post something, a summary of who she was to me, but have put off writing anything (related or otherwise) for fear that it will not do her justice, that I'll forget crucial memories or that it will be insignificant. I am still putting it off but being in her home has been soothing. All of her five children and their children have been together for about a week now and we have spent days going through old albums and talking about the life my Nana and Nonno built. Today I just needed to be in the house. Often I didn't sit with anyone else but on my own leafed through old letters, photos and devoured the contents of her drawers. She saved everything. I had to be there because soon the buzz in the house will dissipate and it will be empty. Everyone will claim their tokens and after a while their life won't be in the house. In a few months it will be sold and we won't meet there as a family any longer. i need to be in that house.
A few things I have found this week:
1) A letter to my great grandfather from his brother. The brother was serving in the army and was stationed in Cairo, Egypt. Apparently the women had a reputation for loose morals so he made a firm decision to keep away from them. He also visited the pyramids and described the monstrous stones that made up the structures. He never returned home after WWII and his name can be found on the Vimy Ridge monument along with his other brother's.
2) A wedding book listing all the guests and who gave her what. Somewhere near the end I found my grandmother 'Miss Margaret Breton' who came with the man who is now my grandfather 'Mr. Les Vicken'. She spelled his last name wrong. They bought them green sheets.
3) Before she became to uncomfortable to sit and talk my grandmother and I were able to share some time together in the hospital reading the psalms. She then gave me a book of the psalms that had first been given to her great grandfather, David, in 1869 and was then passed down to her father, David, in 1910. The other book she insisted I have is an old Spanish grammar and instruction book given to her father by his grandfather on April 2nd 1910. Possibly a passion for languages ran in the family.
Everyone is preparing for the visitation tomorrow. My uncle is creating a video of old films and photos set to music. As of yet I have refused to watch it but will see it in its entirety tomorrow. I had hoped to have grandparents a bit longer than this, however, I have been very blessed as the oldest to have spent so much time with them. Tuesday morning I have the honour of reading Proverbs 31 at the funeral.
Since that time I have wanted to post something, a summary of who she was to me, but have put off writing anything (related or otherwise) for fear that it will not do her justice, that I'll forget crucial memories or that it will be insignificant. I am still putting it off but being in her home has been soothing. All of her five children and their children have been together for about a week now and we have spent days going through old albums and talking about the life my Nana and Nonno built. Today I just needed to be in the house. Often I didn't sit with anyone else but on my own leafed through old letters, photos and devoured the contents of her drawers. She saved everything. I had to be there because soon the buzz in the house will dissipate and it will be empty. Everyone will claim their tokens and after a while their life won't be in the house. In a few months it will be sold and we won't meet there as a family any longer. i need to be in that house.
A few things I have found this week:
1) A letter to my great grandfather from his brother. The brother was serving in the army and was stationed in Cairo, Egypt. Apparently the women had a reputation for loose morals so he made a firm decision to keep away from them. He also visited the pyramids and described the monstrous stones that made up the structures. He never returned home after WWII and his name can be found on the Vimy Ridge monument along with his other brother's.
2) A wedding book listing all the guests and who gave her what. Somewhere near the end I found my grandmother 'Miss Margaret Breton' who came with the man who is now my grandfather 'Mr. Les Vicken'. She spelled his last name wrong. They bought them green sheets.
3) Before she became to uncomfortable to sit and talk my grandmother and I were able to share some time together in the hospital reading the psalms. She then gave me a book of the psalms that had first been given to her great grandfather, David, in 1869 and was then passed down to her father, David, in 1910. The other book she insisted I have is an old Spanish grammar and instruction book given to her father by his grandfather on April 2nd 1910. Possibly a passion for languages ran in the family.
Everyone is preparing for the visitation tomorrow. My uncle is creating a video of old films and photos set to music. As of yet I have refused to watch it but will see it in its entirety tomorrow. I had hoped to have grandparents a bit longer than this, however, I have been very blessed as the oldest to have spent so much time with them. Tuesday morning I have the honour of reading Proverbs 31 at the funeral.
Monday, August 13
Yes, I would really rather have something else to do
Rarely am I pleasantly surprised by a movie so when 7 of us borrowed the van on Saturday night (siblings, cousins and boyfriend with me as the driver) to wander aimlessly around Blockbuster I did not have high hopes. Luckily Disturbia had a waiting list of sadists wanting to rent it my sister had to resort to something else. She chose “Driving Lesson”, I thought solely because it starred Rupert Grint (Ron from the Harry Potter movies) and said as much.
It wasn’t terrible! In fact, it was good and one of the cleaner films available lately (except for a few swears, mostly British ones). The main character is a 17-year-old boy who hasn’t learned to speak up for himself and is over-protected by her outwardly pious, fundamental Christian mother. Hoping to teach enlist her son in her good works his mother encourages him to find a job in order to contribute some money to the boarder she had just taken on. He ends up acting as a personal assistant of sorts to an alcoholic, lonely, melodramatic former actress who teaches him how to have fun and gives him a safe place to express his poetic heart. I don’t advocate the killing of innocence but it was interesting and touching to watch the young character grow and “find himself” to use a terrible cliché.
In the end it had very little to do with actual driving lessons but I’ll let that pass.
It wasn’t terrible! In fact, it was good and one of the cleaner films available lately (except for a few swears, mostly British ones). The main character is a 17-year-old boy who hasn’t learned to speak up for himself and is over-protected by her outwardly pious, fundamental Christian mother. Hoping to teach enlist her son in her good works his mother encourages him to find a job in order to contribute some money to the boarder she had just taken on. He ends up acting as a personal assistant of sorts to an alcoholic, lonely, melodramatic former actress who teaches him how to have fun and gives him a safe place to express his poetic heart. I don’t advocate the killing of innocence but it was interesting and touching to watch the young character grow and “find himself” to use a terrible cliché.
In the end it had very little to do with actual driving lessons but I’ll let that pass.
Friday, August 10
She who laughs, lasts
The other half of a 52 year marriage, parenting pair to five children, my nana, is in the hospital waiting to see her husband who passed away in January. "I just want to see the beautiful garden he must have this year" she said easily with full faith that it is there, waiting.
Just like my nonno, she can't help but crack jokes all the way through. Today she happened to have a friendly male nurse who also happened to be a brit (and call teeth Gnashers, ha). He came in to take her blood oxygen levels and this is how the conversation went.
Nurse: I have just come to check your blood oxygen levels.
Nana: you're not a nurse
nurse: yes, actually i am a nurse.
nana: no. You're not just a nurse
Nurse: You're right, I'm super nurse. However I forgot to wear my underpants outside my uniform today.
Nana: Can you prove that to me?
Just like my nonno, she can't help but crack jokes all the way through. Today she happened to have a friendly male nurse who also happened to be a brit (and call teeth Gnashers, ha). He came in to take her blood oxygen levels and this is how the conversation went.
Nurse: I have just come to check your blood oxygen levels.
Nana: you're not a nurse
nurse: yes, actually i am a nurse.
nana: no. You're not just a nurse
Nurse: You're right, I'm super nurse. However I forgot to wear my underpants outside my uniform today.
Nana: Can you prove that to me?
Tuesday, August 7
One more place down
Life at home for the summer has been a good surprise. Not surprised to be here of course (I was aware of where I would be spending the time) but that it has been full. The college and careers age group at the church I have been attending is a very considerate group who like to have fun and include other people.
Having to work Saturday I was looking forward greatly to the long part of the weekend and having Monday off. Sunday started with church where, being late as usual, we sat in the last row behind an overflowing congregation. The whole service I kept catching glimpses of people who didn’t belong (not in the “you-don’t-belong-here” way but that they fit into other parts of my life, other places). First I leaned forward to a woman who usually attended the church I went to in high school, “Is that…Pastor…..Dave?”.
Thinking to myself that looks like Heather R’s hair...oh, this is the Soo, not Guelph, nevermind. Of course I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted after church by a whole group of Guelphites who happened to join Alex W. for the long weekend. It felt great to converse and get caught up on all that I have missed and will miss being in the far away half of the province. After it all I am ok with the idea that I’m never going to be back in Guelph, not in the student way, not going to classes and meeting the same people at the grey stairs.
We were spoiled Sunday evening when a friend invited us to the camp of his family friends. Well-worth the half hour drive to discover that I actually do enjoy saunas, I enjoy sitting on the top and feeling my face burn (as long as it dies down a bit after) and then jumping into the cool lake water. My arms still feel just slightly tense from gripping a tube while being towed behind a speed boat with two successful rides out of three. Although it was fun there wasn’t any regret leaving because it was early awake on Monday morning to drive to Mackinac Island. Mark picked me up and treated me to the ferry ride to the tourist island; the ride into it actually somewhat resembling a ferry ride through the Bermuda Harbour with the colourful homes perched on the green cliffs to overlook deep blue water.
Easily my favourite part of the trip was the few mile walk up to an old cemetery. Some graves had fresh flowers even after 20 years. One couple had a Star Trek symbol of their grave, with the wife having been the child of an interracial marriage before while it was likely still quite taboo (in the early 1940s). There is so much to learn about people who lived before us, had lives and hopes and families and contributed to their communities before we even came along. The fudge on the island is pretty good too. There are actually no cars allowed there so everything and everyone must be transported via horse or bicycle. How do they clean the horse ‘meal remnants’ off the streets? With a street cleaning power washer pulled behind two Clydesdales of course!
The day ended by celebrating my sister’s 20th birthday with the family, her close friend and Mark treated by my parents to a nice restaurant. We are really starting to appreciate each other’s company more and more. That is adding tremendously to my time at home.
Having to work Saturday I was looking forward greatly to the long part of the weekend and having Monday off. Sunday started with church where, being late as usual, we sat in the last row behind an overflowing congregation. The whole service I kept catching glimpses of people who didn’t belong (not in the “you-don’t-belong-here” way but that they fit into other parts of my life, other places). First I leaned forward to a woman who usually attended the church I went to in high school, “Is that…Pastor…..Dave?”.
Thinking to myself that looks like Heather R’s hair...oh, this is the Soo, not Guelph, nevermind. Of course I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted after church by a whole group of Guelphites who happened to join Alex W. for the long weekend. It felt great to converse and get caught up on all that I have missed and will miss being in the far away half of the province. After it all I am ok with the idea that I’m never going to be back in Guelph, not in the student way, not going to classes and meeting the same people at the grey stairs.
We were spoiled Sunday evening when a friend invited us to the camp of his family friends. Well-worth the half hour drive to discover that I actually do enjoy saunas, I enjoy sitting on the top and feeling my face burn (as long as it dies down a bit after) and then jumping into the cool lake water. My arms still feel just slightly tense from gripping a tube while being towed behind a speed boat with two successful rides out of three. Although it was fun there wasn’t any regret leaving because it was early awake on Monday morning to drive to Mackinac Island. Mark picked me up and treated me to the ferry ride to the tourist island; the ride into it actually somewhat resembling a ferry ride through the Bermuda Harbour with the colourful homes perched on the green cliffs to overlook deep blue water.
Easily my favourite part of the trip was the few mile walk up to an old cemetery. Some graves had fresh flowers even after 20 years. One couple had a Star Trek symbol of their grave, with the wife having been the child of an interracial marriage before while it was likely still quite taboo (in the early 1940s). There is so much to learn about people who lived before us, had lives and hopes and families and contributed to their communities before we even came along. The fudge on the island is pretty good too. There are actually no cars allowed there so everything and everyone must be transported via horse or bicycle. How do they clean the horse ‘meal remnants’ off the streets? With a street cleaning power washer pulled behind two Clydesdales of course!
The day ended by celebrating my sister’s 20th birthday with the family, her close friend and Mark treated by my parents to a nice restaurant. We are really starting to appreciate each other’s company more and more. That is adding tremendously to my time at home.
Saturday, August 4
Working on a Saturday
For some reason I have been contemplating the role of of government funding and agencies with taxes. Although I need to think about this quite a bit more in depth I believe that the Canadian government supports the middle class. If it wasn't for the regulation and spending of the government (however inefficient) there would slowly be no middle class or it would not be the majority. Consider what capitalism does to our country: in an effort to be more and more efficient it either outsources what were once the good jobs or it breaks each position into smaller, part-time positions to avoid paying benefits, pensions, vacation, etc. Where do most of the well-paid, full time positions with benefits come from? Hospitals, schools, universities, government offices and agencies.
It can be argued against of course since many communities are supported by commerce and large corporations (Algoma Steel in Sault Ste. marie) that employ many people. The age of unions and well-paid positions aren't over but they are phasing out. If capitalism had its way our income structure would look like our ozone layer in the 1980s, a gradually widening hole where the middle class used to be.
Trip update: since I will be volunteering a few hours a day with children I can bring supplies like clothes, school supplies and other basics to give to them. Exciting! It will be so fun to choose items and pack them for the children. If I bring things from Wal-Mart what are the chances that they actually made it themselves for 15 cents and hour?
It can be argued against of course since many communities are supported by commerce and large corporations (Algoma Steel in Sault Ste. marie) that employ many people. The age of unions and well-paid positions aren't over but they are phasing out. If capitalism had its way our income structure would look like our ozone layer in the 1980s, a gradually widening hole where the middle class used to be.
Trip update: since I will be volunteering a few hours a day with children I can bring supplies like clothes, school supplies and other basics to give to them. Exciting! It will be so fun to choose items and pack them for the children. If I bring things from Wal-Mart what are the chances that they actually made it themselves for 15 cents and hour?
Tuesday, July 31
I am Ross Gellar
In the process of coming closer to my goal of watching all 10 seasons of Friends (what a goal eh?) I have discovered a connection between Ross Gellar and myself. The title is a bit misleading since there are very many differences between the two of us (hopefully the gender thing is obvious, he doesn’t actually exist, etc.) but one characteristic stood out while I was watching Episode 14 of Season 1 “The one with the Candy Hearts”. Ross is awkward. A specific way that he is awkward is that he is nerdy and truly loves subjects like history, dinosaurs and general scientific facts. In this particular episode he is on a first date with a woman and the audience gets a clip of them sitting awkwardly at a restaurant. To break the silence Ross starts talking excitedly about a new scientific discovery (or something) and ends with what he considers a joke due to the irony of said discovery. The woman manages a small genuine laugh but was unimpressed throughout the telling and the conversation hits another lull.
That’s me! I’d like to think that there aren’t that many lulls for me however I regularly just get going on a topic that I find fascinating only to realize when I have finished that no one else finds it nearly as riveting as I do. The other day at work I was regaling Amanda with an interesting anecdote about my young bilingual cousin and his experience of English speakers trying to speak French only to finish and have Amanda laugh and say “You realize that you just had an entire conversation about the word Bonjour, right?”.
As I prepare to leave for Peru I am also scrambling to read as much as possible. I don’t want to be ingesting too much English while down there so my initial plan to bring hordes of books will likely have to be re-planned. Better finish the Harry Potter soon then!
That’s me! I’d like to think that there aren’t that many lulls for me however I regularly just get going on a topic that I find fascinating only to realize when I have finished that no one else finds it nearly as riveting as I do. The other day at work I was regaling Amanda with an interesting anecdote about my young bilingual cousin and his experience of English speakers trying to speak French only to finish and have Amanda laugh and say “You realize that you just had an entire conversation about the word Bonjour, right?”.
As I prepare to leave for Peru I am also scrambling to read as much as possible. I don’t want to be ingesting too much English while down there so my initial plan to bring hordes of books will likely have to be re-planned. Better finish the Harry Potter soon then!
Thursday, July 26
Shot in the arm
tuesday was vaccine day. I only went for Typhoid and Hep A, leaving Yellow Fever unless I end up needing it. Saved $80! In total the boost to my immune system was $85 but I believe I'll be going in for some government funded extras next week: good ol' TB test and an MMR just to be safe. This trip is so far on budget and its looking like I can get the snazzy slim camera so I can be more inconspicuous (I figure the ghostly pale skin is enough).
Driving around a double hamlet (200 people) on st. joe's island today made me wonder "at what point does a community become financially efficient?" This miniscule group of people had their own hospital (ok, it was very basic but there), libary, government offices, post office. Of course smaller versions of the ones in larger cities but unlikely to serve the same per capita. For example, the fire station. The town had at least one fire truck for 200 people. There had to be at least two or three fire fighters (well, they were probably volunteer) however, that one fire truck (for the same price and similar maintenance) could likely serve a community of over 1000, maybe even more. One community of 1000 gets one firetruck vs. 5 communities of 200 getting 5 firetrucks total. Which is a more efficient way to use our taxes? Social programs? When does this increase in population cease to be more efficient? It would change if by efficient I meant in terms of just the economy of added criteria like quality of life and environmental factors. What is an ideal sized community? hmmmm
Driving around a double hamlet (200 people) on st. joe's island today made me wonder "at what point does a community become financially efficient?" This miniscule group of people had their own hospital (ok, it was very basic but there), libary, government offices, post office. Of course smaller versions of the ones in larger cities but unlikely to serve the same per capita. For example, the fire station. The town had at least one fire truck for 200 people. There had to be at least two or three fire fighters (well, they were probably volunteer) however, that one fire truck (for the same price and similar maintenance) could likely serve a community of over 1000, maybe even more. One community of 1000 gets one firetruck vs. 5 communities of 200 getting 5 firetrucks total. Which is a more efficient way to use our taxes? Social programs? When does this increase in population cease to be more efficient? It would change if by efficient I meant in terms of just the economy of added criteria like quality of life and environmental factors. What is an ideal sized community? hmmmm
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)