Start of 2014

Two and half weeks into the ‘Winter Semester’ and straight into life once more.  We had a gentle re-introduction into the weather with a nice minus five degrees.  Or it was just us being lulled into a false sense of security as this week the Canadian winter returned once more with the experience of the frozen nostrils and headaches.  I just feel sorry for the guys walking around with frozen beards and moustaches.  I’d never really taken seriously the warnings about frostbite before.  Oh no, such potential was definitely felt.

My luggage arrived from who-knows-where just in time for a fraternity ball on the first Saturday back.  Actually taking time to get dressed, get made up and an excuse to tame that ‘fro into something socially acceptable was a rare and welcomed experience.  Wearing heels for the first time in months instead of just my standard snow boots and a full length dress rather than leggings was just excellent (although my walking in the heels probably left much to be desired after such lack of practice).  The above plus a three course dinner was an oh-so-casual start to the semester indeed...

A week later and my attire altered slightly into oh so sexy and flattering ski gear, wearing half my Christmas presents of thermals and ski socks.  ‘Snowbutter’ was the name of the weekend trip to the favourite place of Mont Tremblant.  Tons of students from across North America, lots of drinking, quite a bit of hanging, some hot-tub timing with skiing now and then amongst all that, meant an epic weekend and renewed appreciation of the snow out here.  Oh so there is a reason for it... The state of our hotel room after just 48 hours was rather unbelievable.  Who knew girls could be so messy?  Made best friends with the bouncers of the Après Ski bar (naturally).  Dared the cold by running to the club in just a strap-top (why not).  Actually drank more than one can of beer (first time in my life) during the copious games of ‘Flipcup’ (even got a ‘one flip’ a number of times shockingly).  However, living off bagels, packet noodles and wine for the three days meant needing the whole next week to recover came as no surprise. 

This term a couple of us Internationals have signed up for Intramural Dodgeball. Anyone who has seen my throwing and catching skills will have guessed that those genes don’t run in the Pike family in the slightest.  I can’t really catch the ball to get people out or hit people to get them out, so my game plan is to just bounce around, avoid being hit and somehow stay in.  The pain I felt in my throwing arm the next day proved to be that throwing is just not a natural action for this girl... But who knows, miracles could happen.

Continuing the theme of sport, the annual event of ‘Capital Hoops’ occurred this week where the Carleton Ravens basketball team took on our ultimate rivals from the other university in Ottawa, the Gee-Gees. Yeah. What even are those?  Apparently it’s the first horse out the gate.  Not even the winning horse.  And indeed they lived up to that name by losing in front of an overwhelmingly red and black, Carleton supporting, screaming crowd.  We are number one in Canada so not exactly a shocker.  School spirit at an all time high.  Facepaint and chants in abundance.

My final and most recent excursion was back once more the city of Montreal to visit a friend with whom our friendship has covered Costa Rica, England and Canada.  The trip was a slightly difference experience from the beautiful summer weekend of September with the city covered in snow and ice. Such a chilled weekend of roaming, eating and shopping (buying a bikini for our Spring Break trip to Cuba felt just slightly at odds with the weather outside).  Walks in the snow have become one of my favourite things out here so couple that with a hill, a gorgeous blue sky and a panoramic view of Montreal and it was not a bad time at all.     Basically some ideal weekends.  

The 'Polar Vortex' Voyage

Travelling is a rather strange experience if you think about it.  You become part of a bubble.  The real world and your real life pause.  The only people you communicate with are total strangers.  Your focus and ambition in life is getting from one place to the other.  Something that can be to next to impossible as I found out this week.  A journey that only has to take 7 or 8 hours was enhanced, embellished and elongated until it was actually 72 hours later that the final destination became a reality rather than a far off dream. 

Airport.  A word I now hate. Along with border control (having been through it practically a hundred times), baggage (having lost mine somewhere in the ‘polar vortex’), boarding pass (having racked up an impressive collection of now just empty promises) and the dreaded word of ‘delayed’ highlighted red on the board (you know that hour by hour the delay time will increase until suddenly, ‘cancelled’ flashes up.  Hope once more crushed into the frozen ground that is currently North America). 

72 hours ago I was rather excited to be returning to the land of snow and ice.  That excitement has evolved into frustration, anger, tears to pure numbness.  That 24 hour wait I had for my journey home at Christmas was nothing compared to four airports, two nights stranded in cities which weren’t even on my original journey plan, sitting on planes multiple times waiting to leave to be told we have to return to the terminal once more.  It’s the expectation that this time shall be the time we get lift off.  Everyone has their own horror story.  Though not going to lie, I did have to bite my tongue multiple times when I heard people complaining about having been waiting in the airport for 12 hours.  That, my friend, is nothing.  Trust me and the guy on his way back from Malaysia.  Though one plus is that unlike not wanting to miss Christmas two weeks ago, the only thing I’m missing is introductory lectures which I probably would have skived anyway.  And it does slightly put life into perspective.  All I really suffered were uncomfortable seats, a lack of sleep and a touch of mental anguish.  Nothing if you really think about it.

I’ve met a range of people along the way.  You’ve got those bitching about every little thing, trying to place the blame on anything and everything.  All they are doing is making everyone else around them more pissed off than they were before.  Helpful.  Then there are those who take out their anger and frustration on the nearest person wearing a uniform.  Because they were obviously the person who chose to shut down the whole of Toronto airport right and personally caused you to be stuck on the ground, right? Sure. There’s the teenage girl sat in the corner with tear stained cheeks.  The parents trying to entertain two 5 year old girls for hours upon end, drawing other passengers into the mix (impressive job indeed).  The restaurant manager, just glancing at my face and its expression, giving me a free drink of coke even though I didn’t have enough money. The woman with her pet dog which had the power only animals and babies hold to put a smile on people’s faces which were ones of thunder just moments before.  Then those to whom you say a random comment to or ask a question about which gate to be at and suddenly you’re just chatting away like you’ve known them for years.  They are the people who help you forget that you’re on your own and life is pretty crap and just dull dull dull. 

My holiday at home is a distant memory.  Even English accents are already foreign to me.  I feel like I should have done something momentous during this epic ‘adventure’.  Rather I’ve just read over about a thousand pages of Games of Thrones and literally just sat.  

And all of this sounding like I’m actually home.  Oh no. Abandoned the airport after losing all hope in the air by means of transport after 24 hours of 5 cancelled flights to go back to basics: four wheels on the ground.  Good old Greyhound.  Only 5 hours of icy road separating me from my bed.  Though this is me however, so I’m expecting the bus to not arrive/break down half way in the snow/or simply look at me and decide not to take me as I’ll surely bring a curse upon the journey.

Nevertheless, I refuse to think that this disgraceful start to the term is a sign of things to come.  It better not be anyway...