I spent two and a half days at the conference in Calgary with full attention that came to a climax with our panel this morning. The panel session raised so much discussion with the breakout group of some 25 people, we ended up with only half an hour left for lunch. I never thought walking out onto Steven's Avenue Mall would unintentionally steal me from the conference for the full afternoon!
Steven's Avenue is Calgary's 8th Avenue closed to traffic just like the 16th Street pedestrian mall in Denver, Colorado, USA. Steven's Avenue is not as festive and as ornamented as 16th Street,. It is lined with all kinds of restaurants, cafes, bistros from the simplest to the most luxurious. Today it is somehow more festive, the number of umbrellas increased from early morning. It looks like there is something different going on today: Is it an art festival or what? With the excitement in the air, I recall that there was nothing on the conference program that struck me as "I have to attend this" for this afternoon. Hence, the decision to play the hooky was really not my doing but Calgary's adventurous, mischievous spirit getting into my blood unexpectedly! I hope heavens will forgive me...
Local honey I bought for my daughter was delicious!
An opportunity to learn more about Calgary; after all, if Trump
gets elected as president, I will have to look for a different land to call my home.
There are all kinds of vendors selling anything from honey to nuts, vegetables
to fruits, jewelry to clothes, history tours to soup mixes. I buy a few of the
soup mixes for my friends and honey for my daughter. The mixture of grains from red lentils to wild rice, to quinoa, to beans of a variety of colors are wrapped with clear plastic into
colorfully designed conical gifts...
It is an art in itself. I stop at the history tour vendor. Could this be my
afternoon activity? She is very friendly but it becomes very clear that she
doesn't have anything until tomorrow afternoon. By then my friend Jeanne and I
will long be at Lake Louise to start our hiking expedition in Banff National
Park. This lovely local history guide is so generous with her time, she gives me
information on Prince's island, the lumber's house and all.
I will learn in detail
later on that Prince's Island is a crescent of land on the Bow River,
immediately north of downtown Calgary, that is closed to development, enjoyed
by locals and tourists a like. The park on it is to Calgary what the Central
Park is to New York City, I will discover soon in my afternoon stroll through
town onto the island. Apparently, a pioneer named Peter Prince
claimed/purchased land around Bow River including the island. He and his family
ran a business through the Eau Claire Lumber Mill that they founded.
Eventually, he donated the island, in 1947 to the city for the park to be
built. I admire and respect such entrepreneurs to the greatest extent.
Prince's Island is the Central Park of Calgary to its residents
With my ever-awake curiosity, I start my afternoon
stroll toward and along the river. It is a nice walk. I pass by Le Claire
Market, a contemporary one, but I discover the attempt at creating a market
place in this building miserably failed and it now is office space, has a
fitness center, etc, nothing of interest for me at least today. The
pedestrians-only bridge allows lovely vistas to the west and east over the Bow
River. Then comes the climb up on the stairs hanging down from the cliff of
McHugh Bluff. I don't know yet that the Prince's island actually is the sliver
of green space behind me. I climb up the stairs with the belief that they will
take me to the Prince's Island. I will be grateful for my misunderstanding
soon.
When I am on top of the cliff, the river is indeed something else
in both directions. The
plain that Calgary sprawls across is so vast, Rockies are almost invisible.
It is interesting that the river doesn't have the gray color of the urban
rivers in the USA. Instead, it has more of an emerald hue to it. I will continue being
amazed with this feature of all rivers that we will drive or hike by in the
next several days. Is it possible that Canadians might have found a way to
reduce or minimize the pollution from farming and the huge oil industry around
Calgary and in Alberta? Or is it the low population density? Something
to explore.
The color of the Bow River is quite different than rivers that cut through big cities in the USA
Since I haven't come across the lumber house Mr. Prince
established, I'd like to find out where exactly it is located to make sure I
visit it on my way back. I discover the friendly looking couple, who
sit at one of the benches, are indeed from here. I will soon discover they will
become the highlight of my afternoon. They not only give me the information I
need on the lumber's house by merely pointing out to it across the river, but also
initiate a very meaningful conversation with me. They learn that I am
originally from Turkey, I will never be able to escape my accent that always
gives me away... They volunteer that they have visited Turkey before and are so
sad about what is happening in Turkey politically, lately.
Pure emerald color of Bow River.
They give me detailed information on where to spend time in Banff
and where not to bother at all. We have already read into each other's hearts
that we care about human experience, the nature, the history, not commercial
tourism... We exchange contact information; they are Miriam and Gordon, the
kind of men and women, for the sake of whom this earth is still standing and
resisting all the destruction others are imposing on her. I tell them,
jokingly, if Trump gets elected, I may consider moving to Canada! We not only
laugh comfortably, but they also tell me if I do, I must call them! I love such
unforgettable interactions on the road. Connecting as human beings with honesty
and open hearts. We all need it... Be well Miriam and Gordon, I hope our paths
will cross again.
Barley Mill Café and Historic Lumber House are twins side by side.
I do find the lumber house on the way out, which is now called
Cafe 1886, but unfortunately it is under renovation. Mr. Prince built this lumber house here almost a century and a half ago to manage his logging and lumber business. https://books.google.com/books?id=jdNFuuji9cUC&pg=PA55&lpg=PA55&dq=lumber+house+calgary&source=bl&ots=7EJHObal4M&sig=EzrnzovBoBKD2JvDlVMXSlUyQPM&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjfzPSY_I3PAhXqx4MKHRmIBlcQ6AEIVjAJ#v=onepage&q=lumber%20house%20calgary&f=false. One of the workers invite me back within a few days, alas, I will be way up in the mountains by that time.
Unfortunately, when I was in Calgary, Lumber House was under renovation. Next to the lumbar house is Barley Mill Cafe, built on two stories, looks more like a house, rather than a Cafe, I like it. I find a table for myself on the deck on the second floor looking down at 1886 Cafe. My server happens to be from Bulgaria, engaged to a Turkish man! I cannot believe how international and diverse Calgary is. It is also very clear that the Europeans taking over Canada have not been as mean to the first peoples they found here as their southern counterparts have been. Our conference is testimony to the fact that Canadian government is still addressing its indigenous citizens' needs much more humanely than we do to the south of their border. Also, the proportion of their indigenous people compared to the European decents must be much higher, they are all over. I should explore the evidence base for that.
After I enjoy my mint tea, I get the directions toward Chinatown
from my lovely waitress, she sees me out in Turkish "Hoscakal" with her lovely smile and I send my regards to her
fiancée. Chinatown, which appears gradually one building at a time, is relatively unimpressive compared to those I happened to be
in in other cities. However, one of the sweetest experiences is awaiting
me, I am yet to savor...
Chinese Cultural Center in Chinatown
I enter an unimpressive looking Chinese export store. It is much deeper and larger than it looks from the exterior. I start walking around. I love ethnic stores loaded with knick knacks of all kinds from distant lands. The shelves are covered with all kinds of souvenirs from pencils to candles, from hats to Chinese snacks. All of a sudden, I come across a cabinet full of incense. But these are different. They are in horizontal coils of sandal wood, no less. But how do you burn these, no device to put it on in the boxes, I am perplexed. As I am trying to figure out how to burn these lovely coils, if I were to buy
some as a gift for my daughter, I see him.
Hing Wah Imports Store in Chinatown
He is busy with something on the same loft but at a different counter. I approach him to ask for help, surprise surprise, he doesn't speak a word of English. Why am I surprised, didn't I see such men and women in the Greek community in Florida, in Little Italy in Boston, in Miami all over the place, who have lived and worked in their secluded ethnic groups for decades with no need to learn English? He is one of them, it looks like.
Chinese coil incense became an adventure to figure out how to burn.
He takes the box from me and walks me to the incense cabinet. I already know there are two coils in each of the 10 envelopes. Using the long nail of his right pinky finger he starts doing something with one of the coils as if he is breaking an attachment between the spirals of the coil. Vala, soon the coil turns into two coils! Smart space saving trick. He is now demonstrating something totally with his body language that go along with Chinese benevolent lecture, of which I understand not one single word! I gather though, that Chinese homes have a device that has a stick in the middle and they hang the coil from that stick. Ok, I will buy that, too, show me where. Ah, they don't sell them...
Chinese Cultural Center in Chinatown
I enter an unimpressive looking Chinese export store. It is much deeper and larger than it looks from the exterior. I start walking around. I love ethnic stores loaded with knick knacks of all kinds from distant lands. The shelves are covered with all kinds of souvenirs from pencils to candles, from hats to Chinese snacks. All of a sudden, I come across a cabinet full of incense. But these are different. They are in horizontal coils of sandal wood, no less. But how do you burn these, no device to put it on in the boxes, I am perplexed.
He is busy with something on the same loft but at a different counter. I approach him to ask for help, surprise surprise, he doesn't speak a word of English. Why am I surprised, didn't I see such men and women in the Greek community in Florida, in Little Italy in Boston, in Miami all over the place, who have lived and worked in their secluded ethnic groups for decades with no need to learn English? He is one of them, it looks like.
Chinese coil incense became an adventure to figure out how to burn.
He takes the box from me and walks me to the incense cabinet. I already know there are two coils in each of the 10 envelopes. Using the long nail of his right pinky finger he starts doing something with one of the coils as if he is breaking an attachment between the spirals of the coil. Vala, soon the coil turns into two coils! Smart space saving trick. He is now demonstrating something totally with his body language that go along with Chinese benevolent lecture, of which I understand not one single word! I gather though, that Chinese homes have a device that has a stick in the middle and they hang the coil from that stick. Ok, I will buy that, too, show me where. Ah, they don't sell them...
One of the coil incense burners that Chan doesn't have.
Imagine all this conversation taking place with him speaking in
Chinese 100 miles an hour and I asking my questions in English? Of course our
hands and bodies and faces are all part of the conversation... No worries, I
tell him, I will still buy two boxes of the incense and my daughter and I will
find a way to enjoy them during our meditation. I find two small ceramic
saucers to place the coils on while burning. As I walk to the cashier, I learn
that his name is Chan and he is 80 years old. Chan walks to the cashier's desk
as well. He is still trying to show me how to keep a coil upright on the saucer
by using paper clips.
During my next trip to Montreal, I found this business card holder, which completed my Chinese incense burning set!
I get his permission to videotape him in this action. A bright big smile spreads onto his face exposing his decayed teeth. My heart goes to this hardworking, caring man with strong work ethics. Even if the young Chinese guys and gals that work there kind of mock him with his obsessive effort to explain to me how to use the incense coils, I deeply appreciate his kindness. I bow to him, he reciprocates with a shy smile. I learn how to say thank you in Chinese from the young clerks. His face brightens up as he hears my "xiexie". Yet, another highlight of my Calgary afternoon.
I get his permission to videotape him in this action. A bright big smile spreads onto his face exposing his decayed teeth. My heart goes to this hardworking, caring man with strong work ethics. Even if the young Chinese guys and gals that work there kind of mock him with his obsessive effort to explain to me how to use the incense coils, I deeply appreciate his kindness. I bow to him, he reciprocates with a shy smile. I learn how to say thank you in Chinese from the young clerks. His face brightens up as he hears my "xiexie". Yet, another highlight of my Calgary afternoon.
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| Chinese Church buried among high rises surrounding Chinatown |
