Trips and Ukuleles and Anarchists, Oh My!

I do believe this marks the longest time I've gone without blogging since I started this blog almost three years ago.  Part of me feels like I should apologize, but a much bigger part of me is down with the whole blogging without obligation idea, and even more importantly, realizes that I've been mentally/emotionally not really able to blog.  I just haven't been in the right head-space.  I've been dealing with some pretty high levels of anxiety and stress, and have felt a strong need to retreat from more public areas of expression and instead focus on spending time with friends, meeting new people in real life, and otherwise trying to maintain and build my community.  I'm not sure what most of the things I want and need to change in my life are, though I'm well aware that some changes need to be made, but I do know that having a strong community and network of friends is one of them.

So now that you know a bit about how I've been feeling, I figured I'd update you on what I've been doing since last I posted anything here.

Near the beginning of this month, my sister and I went to a small NBTSC gathering in New York state.  A friend swung a few hours out of her way to pick me and my sister up, and we had a nice little roadtrip through the mountains to a small and really lovely town.  There we stayed, with a handful of other people, at the house of the friends who were hosting us.  And what a lovely house it is!  Which for me, someone who absolutely ADORES old buildings, was quite a big plus. (I didn't take many pictures, so I'm afraid the few I have aren't so hot)

A skatter of instruments and luggage.

I think this shot is "atmospheric," but some might say it's just "dark."

How come new houses don't have awesomely long hallways?

Emi has a ukulele!

Part way through the gathering, Emi picked up a ukulele, and asked her friends to teach her some chords.  Then she proceeded to not put down a ukulele for the rest of the time we were there (except for brief breaks to use the bathroom and sleep)!  In three days, she went from having never played a stringed instrument to knowing several songs on the uke well enough that she could sing along with them as she played!  I'd say that's passion driven learning at it's best, and yet another example that passion driven learning is the best kind there is.

On the day we left we stopped at a music store, and Emi picked out and bought her own ukulele before we headed out of town, so we were serenaded frequently on our drive home.

Her playing has become less frequent in the couple of weeks since we got home, but we'll still hear the sweet sound of the ukulele at least once a day, so it seems to have become a real part of daily life.  So I decided to record her playing, and singing, one of my favorite songs in her repetoire, Over The Rainbow:

Over the Rainbow on ukulele from Idzie Desmarais on Vimeo.

Now, a few years ago I heard about Couchsurfing.org (at my first year of Not Back to School Camp, I believe), a website that is "a worldwide network for making connections between travelers and the local communities they visit."  Things I love about this site is the sheer size of the network it provides (it's the biggest and best known site of it's kind), the fact there are multiple safety thingies built into the site, and the fact that it's free.  As in, the hosts don't charge their guests, just offer a spare bed, futon, couch, or floor space to travelers because they WANT to meet cool people from all over the world!  I also really like that you don't set up an account as *either* a host or surfer, and that most people on the site seem to both host and surf.  So anyway, I think the idea is really cool, so I got an account as soon as I was able to, which was at 18 (I could have just lied about age as everyone does on most sites, of course, but since there's real life verification stuff involved, and I wasn't planning any couchsurfing adventures just then, I figured I'd just wait!).  But then for a while, it just sat there.  The traveling I was doing was to conferences and the houses of people I already knew, and no one contacted me through CS about surfing, so I pretty much forgot about it.  But in the new year, I actually started getting contacted by people through the site, though not many and nothing worked out, until something did work out and we had our first couchsurfer here for the Montreal Anarchist Bookfair, which was just this past weekend!

I find it really cool that though she found me through couchsurfing, she's a former unschooler and NBTSCer (Not Back to School Camper), so we already had friends in common!  We hit it off really well, and for the five days she was here, I had a great time. We wandered the city, helped set up for the bookfair, ate yummy food, chattered through long bus rides, hung out at the bookfair a bunch, met lots of cool people, bought some cool shit, lay around in the sun, went to a seriously awesome punk show...  Photos would probably make things look more interesting, but I have none.  Anyway, a very good time was had, which is good, because I was really looking forward to the bookfair this year, and also really looking forward to my first couchsurfing hosting experience, so it's lovely that everything actually met my expectations (which doesn't happen as often as I'd like)!

Sadly, after that week of partying (around people bringing germs from all over the continent, no less), I got sick.  So I've had a sore throat for a few days now.  Seems to be getting better, but even just a few days of not being able to talk are hard for my chatterbox self!  I think that's what finally spurred me to actually write a post, really: if I can't use my voice, I'm forced to "talk" in other ways!  Even then, this post took me three days to finish.  Like I said, I haven't been able to easily write publicly lately.  Right now, I feel like I might be ready to write a bit more on this blog again, but I'm not sure whether that feeling will change or not.  Lately, hell, for months really, I seem to be swinging between "yay I love my friends, I love the world, life is great!" and "everything sucks, I really suck, I can't handle anything except basic hygiene, maybe a bit of time with people, and reading fantasy novels."  So I suppose time will tell...

I hope all my readers are doing well, and I want to let you guys know how much I appreciate you all, the support you've provided over the years I've been writing this blog, and the fact you stick around even when I go long periods without writing much or at all!  

A Trip to Gaspe

Since I got home, I have been busy!  So this post has been written, in short increments, over multiple days.  But it's now finally finished!

On Tuesday the 18th, we left.  Late.  I think we got out of the house at 3:00 in the afternoon, or close to it!  But, once we actually got on the road, we were cheerful.  The three of us enjoy traveling together.

Yeah.  No explanation needed (we didn't start off well rested, okay?).

We've developed a habit, while traveling, of writing short poetry.  We'll be driving along, merrily talking, when suddenly Emi or I will see something that sparks inspiration, and will quickly drop out of the conversation, shush the others, and start scribbling in our notebooks...

Tree farms pass
some old,
overgrown with
Nature.
a woman waters her
Green Farmhouse
while guitars play
wistfully,
from the stereo.

We drove through the Quebec countryside for the rest of the afternoon, on into evening, at which point we were getting painfully close to the coast, close to the gulf of the Saint Lawrence river, that salt water, rocky shored, beautiful place.

Out of the mist
Soft mountains rolling
Toward the sea

~

lights fall,
glassy,
as we breath deeply:
searching for the Ocean.

We started looking for a motel around 9:00 or so, I think.  I know it was fully dark, and had been so for a little while.  We could smell the sea.  Just a bit, but it was there: that special tang on the breeze.  We found a motel surprisingly soon, considering the usual difficulty we have (my mother and sister are highly allergic to synthetic scents, of which most motels use plenty!).

I sit on a worn comforter
Banged up old motel
And listen to my sister's laugh ringing
Joyous
Through the open window.

We left (much too) bright and early the next day.

After not much driving at all, we reached the coast.

Finally
low tides rocks stretching-
Home.
salt water on my feet and face:
Doubly blessed.

We spent a loooong time on that beach.  I headed straight out to the furthest rock uncovered by the tide, wading through shallow pools of ice cold water to get there, dipped my finger into a retreating wave and tasted the salt.  Then I just stood there, soaking in the sounds and scents and sights of the sea.  I have to admit to even getting a bit teary.  It was like revisiting a second home for the first time in 9 years.  I missed it so much.

We found these amazing water centipede like things.  We watched them in fascination for a while, and even rescued one from a tide pool that had gotten dangerously low for the poor critter!

Doesn't (s)he have a cute face??

Seaglass.

Just a little ways down the road, we stopped again.  This time the beach was home to statues, which stretched out into the water, walking inwards from the sea, up onto land, and then stretching off along the side.

Emi liked the statues.  And she made the same face as some of them.

We stayed for a loooong time on that beach, as well.

But finally, we had to keep going.

There are two ways to get to Gaspe: one, is by going around the coast.  The second, and most popular route with Gaspesians, is going through the mountains, through Murdockville.  Now, the latter is NOT my favorite way.  It may be faster, but it's along high, winding roads, the shoulder washed out in places from the rain, and an extremely narrow shoulder at the best of places.  Plus, if you do happen to have an accident and go off the side of the road, you have a nice 200 foot drop!  Woo hoo!  So, being kind to her daughter, my mother agreed to go by the coast.

Looking out the car window
Eyes flicking lazily.
Suddenly-
A waterfall!
Tumbling down the rocks
Gone in an instant.

We saw so many waterfalls!  As long as it was safe too, we'd pull over every time we saw one, so I could take pictures.

I loved how we'd be driving along, then when we'd go around a curve or get to the top of a hill, we'd suddenly see a village, nestled between the mountains on one side and the water on the other.

There are dozens such villages scattered along the coast.

Finally, we arrived in Gaspe, surprised to find that, out of the motels that were open (many aren't open this early in the tourist season), most were full or nearly full!!  But, though it was a bit pricier than we'd hoped, we ended up staying in a very nice motel in the dead center of Gaspe proper.  These photos were taken around Gaspe on Thursday, our first full day there:

It's probably not a surprise that the second place we went (after the cemetery, where many relatives are buried) was to my great-grandmothers house.

My great aunt's trailer...

The birch grove in front of my great grandmother's house that I always loved playing in as a child...

The house.

 The barn/shed...

On the trip to Gaspe, I saw so many crows!  Flying past our car, swooping in front of us, sitting, stately, on dying trees by the side of the road...  I said they were watching over us.  Emi said I was silly.  But when we walked back into the fields from my great grandmothers house, there was a crow feather, sitting straight up, caught in the grasses before our feet.  Emi found it.  I told her the crows were watching over us.

A field of forget-me-nots, one of my favorite types of flowers...

My grandmother, who stayed at my cousin Linda's house (she lives two or three houses over from my great-grandmother's house) arrived in Gaspe this day, the Thursday, and after spending some time at Linda's, saw our car here and headed over to say hello.  It was a very grey day though, it was raining off and on (making picture taking risky), and I was suffering from truly horrible allergies, so we didn't stay very long.

We took my grandmother out to supper with us, at a nearby casse croute (aka greasy spoon).  We spent a lot of time with my grandmother throughout the whole visit, and amazingly, the four of us got along extremely well.  That never happens!!

After supper, since the beach we always visit, Haldimand, is just five minutes from the restaurant, we headed there.

Gaspe is often chilly in May, and near the water it's even colder!  But, gods, is it beautiful. 

On Friday there was the viewing (remember this whole trip was because of my Nan, my great grandmother's, funeral).  The day of the viewing was a day of much family trouble (not between my mum, sister, grandmother and I, but with extended family), so stressful, but I did get a couple of good shots when at Linda's house...

They say the eye is a window into the soul, don't they?

This was the view I looked out to from our motel room.  Isn't it lovely?

The next day, Saturday, brought the funeral.  It was a beautiful, bright day.  It was also, predictably, a sad one.

After the reception, we all wanted the relaxation and beauty of the beach.  So that's where we went again.

 

On Sunday, we rested.  No, really, we did!  It was a gorgeous day again: this time not just warm, or pleasantly cool as it had been, but hot (in the early 30's celcius).  We lazed around, spent more time at the beach, where it was finally hot enough that we could comfortably wade and slash around, since getting wet was much more comfortable anyway in the heat!  I wish I could have taken pictures, but it was windy, with sand blowing everywhere (stinging my legs like miniture needles as it hit), and I wasn't willing to subject my camera to that.  So I had to take a picture in words, instead.

remembering a day
when the sky landed on the beach
to play in the waves
that stretched long fingers
over the sand

We went out to a mediocre supper with my grandmother, which I shamefully didn't take any pictures of, either, then packed.

The next morning, we looked out the door of our hotel to see the mountain being swallowed by the mist.

We said a final goodbye to my great-grandmother's house, and to my great-grandmother's grave.

Then we set off..  It hurt, leaving.  We were there such an incredibly short time, and I'll miss it.  I do miss it.

We stopped for french fries here.  They have very good french fries! (Note the cloud so low it obscures part of the mountain.)

We arranged to meet my grandmother, at a motel she knew to be nice, that night.  It felt like we'd come full circle, when we arrived there.  It was the same little town where we'd first stopped to walk on the beach nearly a week before.

We all went out to supper at a lovely little place just down the road with delicious food.  They had the most kickass vegetarian pizza ever!  It had onions, peppers, tomatoes, green beans, carrots, baby corn...

This was our view when we stepped out the back door of our motel room:

We went down the steps onto the beach, listening to the crashing waves, way bigger than last time we were at this beach (a storm was on its way), and with the tide most definitely coming in, not out!  I walked out to the furthest rock I could get to, and just reveled in the sheer glorious, beautiful, power of this place.  I was finally coaxed back out to solid beach, and the place where I had been standing was covered by water in just a little while.

My grandmother got a motel room just two doors down from ours, and came to hang out with us for a while.

It got steadily darker, and the wind started picking up.  We opened the blinds, eager to see as much of the storm as we could.

three generations
we stood, foreheads pressed
against the cold window
watching the lightning zag
the lighthouse flash
and the whitecaps crash.
the roar of the ocean
held us close
in the cozy hotel room.

It was incredible, and we fell asleep with the window open, listening to the crash of the ocean.

This was the view in the morning from our motel window:

I was sad to leave the coast in the morning.

It was another rather misty day, and when we left in the morning, a cold one!  My grandmother, determined not to get lost (as she very often does), arranged to follow us for the entire way to Montreal.  She stopped where we stopped, turned where we turned.  It was nice to have her with us for the trip.  And, of course, Emi and I wrote poetry!

A cloud landed
Softly,
On the top of a mountain
Slid down onto the road
And enveloped our car.
Muffled, we drove through.

~


I breath deeply
the water
in my bottle
smells of ocean
even though
we've left the waves
far behind us.

It was rather funny when, not far from Quebec city, we took a pit stop and were struck with a wave of heat upon stepping out of the car!  We'd gone from 9 degree weather in the morning, to 33 degree weather in the afternoon!!

And there really isn't much more to say.  We drove for a while more, then arrived back in Montreal.

Driving through the city
(Oppressive air
And crumbling pavement)
when, suddenly-
a bird flits by
lit golden by the setting sun
to disappear down an empty street.

We crashed at home.

I still miss Gaspe.  But, I'm glad to be home!

Or, should I say, glad to be back at one of my homes.

Peace,
Idzie