Tomorrow marks the two week point in our Nova Scotia Adventure. It feels like we've been here for months already, considering all of my new-found neuroses. Who knew that one could go so crazy in such a short amount of time? At any rate, I figured that it was time for a little overview of Nova Scotia through my eyes.
In 1845 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote a poem called "Evangeline", which begins in the part of Nova Scotia where I am currently residing. For the intellectuals out there, you can download the poem from Project Gutenberg here, but you'll need about an hour if you plan to read it, because this is the very definition of Epic Poetry. If you can only get through the first few stanzas, we're a few minutes away from Grand Pre, and our house is right by the Evangeline Trail. "The Minas Basin: Home of Orchards, Tides and Evangeline" the signs all say. That pretty much sums it up. Oh yes, and corn. Which brings me to the "Deliverance" reference.
The crickets chirp. You're surrounded by corn. The men sit on their porches without shirts, staring at you (and Calvin Klein models they ain't!) I haven't heard any dueling banjos as yet, but give it time. "Haha," you say. "It can't be that bad."
But I bought my cell phone from a place called "Wacky Wheatley's", people. It can and it is.
We've been to Halifax twice now, which is wonderful. It's ridiculous how much of a city girl I am, but my blood pressure and heart rate actually go down when we get into Halifax. The stores, the Starbucks', the fully-dressed people, the streets, the signs, the civilisation!
"Ahhhhh," I sigh, my body relaxing, letting go of the constant "fight or flight" adrenaline. Lovely, comforting city. The concrete jungle, full of sensible things like coffee shops, restaurants, book stores, and 24-hour amenities. I can navigate here. I can handle anything. I get this place. I am CITY GIRL! I can order a Triple Grande Vanilla Non-Fat Latte, while text messaging, all in high heels! This is my comfort zone. As soon as we start driving back home I can feel the anxiety attacks start up again. Oh God, don't make me go back there. Please, I'll do anything. Not back to the place where I jump every time I see movement out of the corner of my eye. PLEASE not that. ANYTHING but THAT!!!
(chirp, chirp, chirp, the crickets respond... was that a banjo I heard?!)
One good thing about Nova Scotia is how friendly the people are. In Wolfville, for example, at the Tim's, all of the men hold the doors open for you with an "after you, my dear." The people are chatty, even in Halifax, and if you tell them where you're from they immediately say "Well if you need ANYTHING, you just let me know." The lady at the fabric store today, the realtor. Heck, our next door neighbour sent his son over to help us clean the yard! My sceptical City Girl mind says "you don't know me from a hole in the ground," but they're just friendly! FRIENDLY!!! Haven't really met anyone my age, though, except for the neighbour across the street, shirt off on the porch, polishing his sword collection... sketchy...
(chirp, chirp, chirp....)
Anyway, that's about it for now. "It's some hot, eh?" to quote the locals. I miss you all TERRIFICALLY!
xoxoxo,
Gillian
2 comments:
I've been meaning to ask.. have you registered for a class at the university yet, so you can meet someone other than the sword collecting neighbor? ;P Creeepy...
But just remember folks, everywhere has their weirdos, not just the Maritimes! It really can be nice out here, I swear! :)
Almost makes a person wonder how you survived all those years _living_ with an obsessive sword collector...
Taking a course at one of the universities is a good idea, plus the campuses are beautiful and full of really cool buildings. Check out SHIRREFF HALL at dalhousie.
Post a Comment