The tour guide and the (winter) city

For the third time in the last 12 months I had the opportunity of being a tour guide of Toronto. It is really a pleasure to show the city you live in to someone who is seeing it for the first time. Last June I started this honourary job with my Dad, then in the Fall I wandered around downtown with my dear Italian friend RBT a couple of times. Yesterday it was with a new friend, a young guy from Colombia who is trying to adapt to living in Canada after life threw a slider at him and his family. Mr. Ch. is being integrated into my lab at YorkU as an undergraduate research assistant, while trying to have his university back in Colombia to take this experience as the last credits he need to finish his degree in Psychology.

We met to talk and I was able (hopefully) to give him a glance into life in Canada and in Toronto. The backdrop of a slushy Spadina Avenue after a "snow storm" that surprisingly brought the city to its knees seemed to be effective to describe the contrasts this city has to offer. Here are some photos I took from one of my favourite intersections College and Spadina:

What I like about this intersection is that is the North limit of China Town and to the South-West of the intersection you can find Kengsinton Market. Kengsinton Market is one of the most hip places (obviously this is my personal opinion) in Toronto. You can find vintage clothing stores, international food products, fresh produce, knick-knack stores, and even an authentic Taco joint (El Trompo) and a Chilean Empanada place (Jumbo Empanadas, where we had lunch). There are several Latin American grocery stores, so if I ever feel home sick and long for those Ducal refried beans, or if I run out of chocolate (the beverage) or suddenly decided the heck with sodium content let's make some Pepián out of a box (Mahler brand) I am sure I will find these and other products there if I don't find them in the little stores on mi barrio. Thus I try to show this neighborhood to visitors from abroad. In this case is to a future Canadian resident, but I guess it is a good introduction to the multi-culturality of Toronto (did I mentioned the Middle Eastern, Portuguese, Jamaican, and many many other stores in the area? and the fact that is just besides China Town?) and at the same time give him a potential life line if there is something from Colombia he might end up craving once he realizes is not easily found in wherever he ends up living in this wide, although relatively uninhabited city. Here is a shot of Augusta Ave., on of the main roads of Kengsinton Market.

It looks like any other street covered with snow. So I might make a future posting on this interesting piece of Toronto's mosaic when Spring finally arrives. Which according to the Canadian Groundhogs will be after six more weeks of these (dreary) weather. In the meantime I made Mr. Ch. walk down University Avenue (where I give my speech about the Canada Life beacon, does anyone know what is so special about it?) all the way to the Harbourfront Centre (which I had previously showcased), passing by Union Station, and the foot of the CN tower and the Rogers Centre (formerly known as the Skydome). Then we walked North via Bay Street, the home of the Toronto Stock Exchange (TSX) and then East on Queen St. East, where he is staying on a place beyond Sherbourne. Mr. Ch. apparently is "wintercity-ed out" so I didn't ask him to join me while I went to Nathan Phillps Square to experience an interpretation of Alice in Wonderland by a theatre group from the Netherlands called Gajes. I took some pictures, but lighting (and having a hot-dog and fries on one hand) doesn't help my poor camera phone, which otherwise takes excellent outdoor shots. Here are some of the most decent ones of the performance:

After the presentation I hang around to see the lightning of some fire sculptures created by a French artist or artists. It is fascinating how a cold Winter evening can make our primeval attraction towards fire more evident. Here are some pictures of a couple of these "sculptures", don't get too close:

So, this chapín tour guide from Toronto shared a talk with a Colombian friend over some Chilean empanadas, gave him a tour of downtown, and then he toured on his own to a festival where artists from the Netherlands and France presented their crafts. Just another weekend in Toronto. And, an appropriate way to commemorate the 32nd anniversary of an event in Guatemala, which produced an overwhelming response from the international community towards my motherland. Growing up we used to call February 4th the Day of International Friendship, but I don't know if it caught up. Does anyone know what happened in Guatemala on 4 February 1976?

Tale of two brews

Ok Rudy, I'll bite, or should I say drink? The man behind LAGDP has been mentioning over and over again the Canadian Classic Film "Strange Brew": The adventures of Bob and Doug McKenzie. Fellow blogger CancunCanuck posted in December the brothers McKenzie version of the 12 Days of Christmas, which is really really funny. But I won't talk about these Canadian icons, but of their (our) beloved beer. Or should I say beers? Well, I will focus on one beer in particular, the one I call "the pride of Toronto": Steam Whistle. Last June I had the pleasure of hosting my father in his first trip to Canada. He came for my convocation ("acto de graducación" pues) from my MA. My father worked for some years as an accountant at Cervecería Centroamericana, the producers of Gallo Nuestra Cerveza. So I thought it would be nice to take him to a micro-brewery here in Toronto. It happens that Steam Whistle Brewery is located at the foot of the most emblematic construction of Toronto, the CN tower. These are some photos taken from and at the brewery.

In the tour, which included a taste of their beer, we were told that this brewery only "craft" one product, the pilsner Steam Whistle, which is made only with four ingredients: Spring water, malted barley, hops and yeast. Their motto is "make one thing and make it good". This "micro-brewery" is located on an old train station, thus the name Steam Whistle. It is actually quite "hoppy" and it might be an acquired taste, but maybe less so than other types of beers produced in Toronto, like Mill Street Brewery Coffee Porter. But is not my intention to either describe every single beer and ale brewed in Toronto, not it is to create a beer blog. I am just replying to Rudy's insisting question of "what kind of strange brew" are we drinking up here, usually aimed to LD and to my person. LD, as far as I know, is not even a beer drinker. Me, on the other hand, have discovered that the suds I used to drink as a young child actually come from a very tasty beverage. I was not particularly fond of Gallo, and when I visit my family I try to drink Moza whenever I can(a bock type of beer, also produced by Cervecería Centroamericana S.A.). Beer is a serious business both in my motherland and in my newland. But it was in these latitudes that I discover that there is no such thing as one beer or one type of beer, and I finally understood what the hell is an ale (and I am not talking about Canada Dry Ginger Ale).

There are many more micro-breweries in Canada and some of the best that I know (well maybe because are the ones that have products more easily accessible) are in Ontario. You can check the website of the Ontario Craft Brewers for an extensive list of these local entrepreneurs and their beloved products. When I first came to Canada, I lived in Kitchener-Waterloo (K-W), two intertwined cities located about 2 hours South-West of Toronto, for three years and a half. I even worked conveniently across from The Brick Brewery in uptown Waterloo. In those times I developed a taste for Honey Brown beer, regardless of the brand. Here in Toronto when I am in the mood I usually have a Sleeman's Honey Brown, brewed in Guelph, a city between Toronto and K-W. Lately, though, I have preferred the best selling import in Canada: Stella Artois, brewed in Leuven, Belgium since 1366 (no it is not a typo, since the mid 14th century and by the same family!). Even though I was not able to visit the brewery, I did spent a couple of days in the city of Leuven this past Summer.

Belgium, among other things, is well known for its beer. Now that I think about it, it is an officially bilingual country, with a parliamentary democracy and a monarchy, with an interesting mixed of immigrants, somewhat crappy weather, that is proud of its beer. Hmmm... sounds familiar, doesn't it? In any case, I took some pictures around town and particularly of the area where InBev, the brewery that produces Stella Artois is. Here they are:

The Katholieke Universiteit Leuven (KUL)is the alma mater of a Chilean friend who recently defended his doctoral dissertation and it is the current casa de estudios of my old friend Ale, another fellow blogger behind Desde Kinshasa and Congo Days. KUL buildings are all over town, but one of the most iconic ones is the Library and the monument located in the plaza in front of it:

In the Wikipedia entry for KUL it mentions how KUL, the flemish university split from L'Université de Louvain in the last quarter of the 20th century. It states that the library was divided alphabetically "in a typical Belgian fashion" between KUL and Louvain, whose campus was relocated to a town created on the Wallon (French speaking) side of the country called Louvain-la-Neuf (literally the new Leuven). Here are more pictures of the streets of Leuven (the original one):

The last one is a picture of the psychologists' pub called Pavlov, which unfortunately I didn't visit. Maybe when I am doing my nest next trip across the pond I'll have time to hang out and taste more of the great beers produced in Belgium. There is actually an interesting blog I stumble upon which tries to count the different types of beers produced in Belgium. They are almost reaching the 200th beer and I don't think they are counting the more commercial ones like Morte Subite, Leffe, Hoegaarden, or even Stella Artois. Here is me enjoying a glass of Morte Subite at El Metekko in Brussels:

Thus it ends my tale of two brews or of many many brews and the countries that proudly brew them. It seems that not only have I betrayed my motherland by not being a fanatic of Gallo, but I already moved on from the local "strange brews" to prefer the taste of a refreshing import. So, whenever I write a post or a comment that seems more skewed than normally you can blame it on Stella... STELLA!!

Efemérides y un par de poemitas

El mes de Jano es la puerta que ve al pasado y al futuro al mismo tiempo. Es una época de inicios y de recuerdos. En enero inicia el ciclo escolar guatemalteco, como lo reporta LAGPD. Tantos recuerdos del frío de enero en el país de la eterna primavera. Sin embargo, hoy, dos semanas desde que me mudé a mi bati-cueva sobre la calle Dufferin, quiero recordar uno de los primeros eventos que me tocó vivir en Canadá. Era el año 1999 y durante un mes visité como turista este mundo maravilloso de invierno. En nuestro camino de Kitchener-Waterloo a Montreal, a donde mi futura (ex)esposa y yo fuimos a dejar aplicaciones para una universidad, nos cambiamos de bus extra-urbano a tren acá en Toronto. Un frío tremendo calaba los huesos. El viaje que dura aproximadamente cinco horas o un poco menos tardó diez horas debido a una tormenta de nieve que azotó todo el corredor que va desde Windsor hasta Montreal. En dicha ciudad en la provincia de Quebec tuve mi primera experiencia manejando en Canadá y sacando un carro debajo de 30 cm de nieve. Hace nueve años decidí que si podía apalear tanta nieve para poder usar un bendito carro podía (sobre)vivir en este país.
Lo que no sabía entonces, es que dicha tormenta de nieve había creado un caos de tamaño familiar en la ciudad de Toronto. Lo que tampoco sabía entonces es que apenas en 1998 la ciudad de Toronto era sólo una quinta parte de lo que es ahora, luego de una "amalgamación" de cinco áreas o "boroughs" impulsada por un gobierno provincial hambriento por cortar costos y maximizar eficiencia. Algo así como que la ciudad de Guatemala se fue "comiendo" cantones y aldeas aledañas, pero forzado por un Premier semi-dictatorial. Bueno, para hacer corta la historia, el primer alcalde de la nueva "Mega-ciudad" de Toronto, era un pequeño personaje que solía salir en los anuncios de su almacén de muebles y que había sido alcalde de una de las otras mini-ciudades que fueron víctimas de la amalgamación.
En uno de sus más recordados faux pas (y tuvo muchos a lo largo de su mandato frente a la municipalidad) a mediados de enero de 1999, el jefe edilicio pidió la ayuda de las fuerzas armadas canadienses para ayudar con la ciudad sepultada en nieve. Para poner más contexto, el resto de Canadá ya se burlaba de Toronto por no aguantar un par de cm de nieve y recientemente un comediante hasta acuñó el término "torontardado" para designar aquellas personas o lugares que no soportan cuando cae un poco más de nieve que lo acostumbrado.
Para ver material sobre este "evento" de finales del siglo pasado pueden visitar los archivos que la Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) tiene disponibles en línea:
Toronto calls in troops to fight massive snowstorm [en]
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Recientemente he vuelto a escribir líneas de texto en servilletas, hojitas de cuaderno, recibos del super, en donde pueda y cómo pueda, y luego llamo a mis tanes líricos "poemas". Sin embargo, esto no es algo que es nuevo en mí. De hecho, urgando entre un folder español que me traje de mi matria hace un par de viajes encontré los siguientes "poemas enebrios" (circa 1997)

El mes de Jano tiene dos caras
que les muestra a los niños
que sienten dentro un cariño
por las niñas que quieren ser malas

El mes de Jano, empieza y termina,
es alfa y es omega,
es lobo con piel de oveja,
es falda, es valle, es cráter, es cima.

El mes de Jano tiene dos caras
y yo quisiera que una de ellas
al final me mirara...

------------------------------

Un aguacero rompió la sequía
Inéditas gotas caen del cielo
Van cumpliendo aquella profecía
Se va convirtiendo en agua el hielo.

Los carros pasan sobre hojas en blanco.
Los carros pasan sobre hojas en gris.
Cómo poemas se forman los charcos.
Canción de enero, arco iris feliz.

El Nuevo Año en Toronto

El lanzamiento de Manolo 4.1 esta siendo existoso... Ya mudé todas mis pertenencias de mi antigua residencia a mi nueva "bati-cueva". Mientras espero la bati-señal en el cielo nublado de Toronto (aka "ciudad gótica") publico esta entrada sobre cómo me encontró el año nuevo. Mis expectativas de la celebración del Año Nuevo fueron bastante realistas, como de costumbre. En Guatemala, cuando era pequeño, Navidad la pasaba con mi familia nuclear y Año Nuevo con mi familia extendida. Al ir creciendo, en lugar de buscar parrandas de año nuevo siembre había algo interesante que hacer o si no la pasaba en la casa de mi mamá. El más memorable año nuevo fue en segundo año de la licenciatura, ya que me tocó trabajar el turno de la noche del 31 a la mañana del 1 de enero. En ese entonces trabajaba con un psiquiatra que tenía derechos de ingreso en un hospitalito de la zona 14, que quedaba por el viaducto. Así que inicié la noche en Narcóticos Anónimos (sólo puedo decir que yo estaba allí y no puedo revelar las identidades de otros participantes) y luego estuve velando un paciente en el hospital. Habían dos enfermeras y un residente de turno. Luego de las doce llamé a mis papás para desearles feliz año nuevo y luego tomé una siesta en uno de los cuartos que estaban desocupados, encargándoles a las enfermeras me avisaran si el paciente necesitaba mi atención.

Con diferentes parejas (obviamente) pasé años nuevos visitándolas, una vez en Managua , donde hubo un apagón despuecito de las doce, y otra vez en Waterloo, mi primer año nuevo en Canadá. El año nuevo más anticlimático fue el del '99 para el 2000, como creo que fue para la mayoría de habitantes de esta tierra. Para el año nuevo del 2002, con medio año de separación de mi ex-esposa, la pasé en la plaza de la municipalidad de Kitchener. Este año, seis años después, en una situación personal similar, pero 100% diferente, las doce me encontraron en otra plaza municipal. Esta vez en el Nathan Phillips Square en frente a la municipalidad de la ciudad de Toronto. La nieve empezó a caer luego de las once, lo que hizo la caminata muy interesante. A pesar que había cenado con un grupo de cinco amigos de YorkU cuando llegamos a la plaza municipal nos perdimos de vista, quedándome sólo con uno de mis amigos. Tomé algunas fotos (algo borrosas) de la multitud de gente en Nathan Phillips Square y de los fuegos artificiales en frente a la municipalidad. Aqui se las pongo en una presentación de diapositivas:

Cómo mencioné, desde las once del 31 empezó a nevar. Al día siguiente salí para juntarme con otro grupo de amistades en la casa de una amiga. Nuevamente tomé fotos de mi camino para documentar el primer día del 2008 en "mi barrio" y más allá. Aqui les va este "mundo maravilloso de invierno":

Para que se den cuenta de la diferencia y la rapidéz con la que el panorama puede cambiar les pongo dos fotos de una de las paradas del tranvía, la de la primera tomada el sábado 29 de diciembre y la segunda el 1 de enero, solamente tres días después:

Luego de un inicio de año sumamente frío, se espera que la próxima semana alcancemos los 13 grados Celsius sobre cero. Así que podré ver si mi bati-cueva es a prueba de agua cuando la nieve se derrita en la superficie.

Mientras tanto les deseo lo mejor para el 2008 y Feliz Día de Reyes.

Home for the holidays

‘Home’ has become such a scattered,
damaged, various concept in our present travails.
From "At the auction of the ruby slippers"
by Salman Rushdie‡

No, I am not catching a plane at the last minute to visit my family, my beloved family, in the warmer (everything is relative) Guatemala, my motherland. Neither have I bought a "home" a marketing term for a "house" (Aeronica, the Nicaraguan national airline, had a nice slogan: "Your origin, your destiny". Another great example of the marketing of this "blessed word") . (Un)fortunately I have not found or outbid for the ruby slippers either (more on this below). What I am doing is making a conscious decision of staying home. Settling down is a phrase that comes to my mind, though not in its common use. The Spanish term "sentar cabeza" literally means "to seat your head down". That is what I am doing, putting my head on the ground and calling whatever piece of ground I am standing in HOME.

Home is a high commodity. It trades at inflated prices particularly around the end of the Gregorian calendar year. After getting my citizenship in 2005 I decided to visit my family as soon as work let me. I compared ticket prices for traveling at the end of December, against traveling in February, for Reading Week. The ticket was a third cheaper for Reading Week (OK, it was approx $400 less but 1/3 sounds more dramatic). In that time of my life, coincidentally, I was still saying "home" to refer to my motherland, little did I know that I was near the end of a period of denial of my Guatemalan identity.

Thus, becoming a Canadian citizen started a struggle within myself about my newly acquired dual citizenship, and thus the emergence of an authentic mixed identity. I haven't been introduced to terms as Native Informant or Migrant Hybrid yet, but events would unfold during 2006, after my visit to Guatemala, that will lead me to the changes that occurred in 2007. I think right now that in February of 2006 was my last trip home to Guatemala. Last August I went to my dear "country of origin", where I do feel at home. I decided to start calling it my motherland, "mi matria", because it conveys the welcoming attitude of a mother, of my mother, towards me.

During Spring and Summer of this year I started to play with the idea of the ruby slippers. Where would I end up if I put them on (they would look cute on me, wouldn't they?) and say those magic words "There is no place like home"? Would I end up like some Star Trek transporter mishap, my particles scattered all over the universe? Would I end up in someone's arms? Would I implode in my own self absorption? I have no answer yet. Must of the people on my blogroll share this conflict with me one way or the other. We have left parts of our heart spread in different parts of the world. We have crossed borders, inside or outside our countries, for different reasons and stay longer than the length of a vacation or a work contract or a study period. We have invested our emotions and thoughts about these multiple cities, provinces, lands and nations and their relationship towards our selves.

One of these fellow migrants who actually returned to the motherland, Ronald, my dearest friend and dialog partner, directed me towards a short tale by Rushdie found on "East, West" that also made reference to the ruby slippers. I recently read it. I reproduce below the paragraph that starts with the sentence I chose for my epigraph:

‘Home’ has become such a scattered, damaged, various concept in our present travails. There is so much to yearn for. There are so few rainbows any more. How hard can we expect even a pair of magic shoes to work? They promised to take us home, but are metaphors of homeliness comprehensible to them, are abstractions permissible? Are they literalists, or will they permit us to redefine the blessed word. p. 93 ‡

Home as an abstraction... not as a place... not as some walls and a roof (and hopefully a fireplace) with some doors and a lock. Not as a land, the land where our umbilical cord is buried, or where we grew up. Safe haven, security base are terms borrowed from attachment theory that are intimately related to home. And yet, the idea of this security base implies exploration. What home doesn't know is that exploration will lead to the finding of other homes. Of places where we feel safe, where we grow up.

Home is not Canada for me... neither is Guatemala... is not Toronto, or Waterloo, or zona 18 or zona 14 in La Capital. Home is here, wherever I am, wherever I decide to live, love, and thrive. And therefore, for this year, maybe after many years of not doing so, I'll be home for the holidays.



---------------------------------------------------------------

‡ Rushdie, S. (1994). East, West: stories. New York: Pantheon Books.

Blanca Navidad

¡Extra!

En estos días no sale el sol... (sino tu rostro) y la nieve sigue cayendo sobre Toronto... y todas las preciosas distracciones de la temporada (y de mi vida en general) me han alejado de escribir sobre la ciudad y su colchón blanco que todo lo cubre. La verdad es que no tengo mucho que decir, dejaré que las fotos que he tomado en mis alrededores hablen por si solas...

Aqui pueden ver una venta de arbolitos de navidad a la vuelta de mi casa (ah, por cierto, estoy buscando a donde mudarme en enero, espero que sea en un lugar tan pintoresco como "mi barrio"):

En otra de mis excursiones al Harbourfront Centre un domingo (si no recuerdo mal para la venta de navidad de la organización Menonita Ten Thousand Villages, por un día no me junté con LD que trabajó de voluntaria el sábado) luego de una tormenta de nieve tuve la oportunidad de ver niños y padres haciendo muñecos de nieve. Ese día pensé mucho en mis sobrinos y en cuanto disfrutarían la nieve, aunque mi cuñis (y mi hermano también, por supuesto) los mantendría super arropados... :-)

Este tractorcito es un "zamboni" y su función, generalmente, es mantener el hielo en las pistas de patinaje, como en esta del Harbourfront Centre:

No sé si se verá tan bien, pero estas son fotos que tomé en dos diferentes ocasiones mientras nevaba:

Se preguntarán, ¿qué hacen los torontecos, torontenses, toronteños y torontois et torontoises cuando neva tanto? Pues se van de compras. Esta foto es del Eaton Centre, en el mero centro de la ciudad:

Y para finalizar, y dedicadas a la "Canucka en Cancún" un par de fotos de YorkU, estas cerca de mi edificio, el Behavioural Sciences Building o BSB, porque BS Building no suena tan bien ;-)

P.D. Sobre la etiqueta "fall" puesta a esta entrada... oficialmente estamos en otoño hasta el 22 de diciembre.

¡EXTRA! 16 de diciembre: Tormenta de nieve azota Toronto
Cuatro fotos más, estas tomadas hoy domingo 16/12/2007 durante la tormenta de nieve procedente de Estados Unidos y que sigue su curso Nor-Este. Toronto está cubierto
de unos 30 o 40 cm de nieve y todos las salidas de vuelo desde YYZ han sido canceladas. Estas fotos las tomé en Dufferin, la primera cerca de St. Clair West y las otras tres del otro lado de la calle del Centro Comercial Dufferin, al sur de Bloor.

Migration and activism

Last Spring I told someone that I needed to choose my battles. I was talking then about my involvement in a grassroots organization called the Spanish Speaking Education Network (SSEN <http://www.ssencanada.org>). This dedicated group of parents and educators from the "Spanish speaking" community of Toronto was created as a reaction to a report from the local public school board (better known as TDSB) in which high school students from "our" cultural-ethnic-whatever group had an increasing trend in terms of drop out rates. In other words, compared to other groups whose drop-out rates might or might not be increasing, Hispanics / Latin-Americans / Spanish-speakers drop-out rates were increasing at a faster pace.
Of course this is an alarming trend. Through a recommendation by my friend SZ I was able to participate on a round-table and give a talk on the first congress of the SSEN in September of 2006. In the second congress, this past September, I participated as a moderator in one of the small groups of parents discussing the talks given during the day. I am just happy I was able to help. But my commitment to the organization couldn't go further... there might be time constraints and personal situations of this year that made me think about saying no (I have a problem with "saying no"). So I chose not to pick that battle. I am aware now that my motivation in part decayed because I am not a parent. I do work in research in child development and parenthood is part of my interests from different perspectives. But I have no problem with the TDSB and/or "the system", because I have no children yet.

Last July I went to the screening of an early version of a documentary called "Migrants: Those Who Come From Within" from Mexican filmmaker Aaraon Díaz (left), and sponsored by the NGO Justicia for Migrant Workers (J4MW). Both the documentary and J4MW are trying to give voice to temporary or seasonal migrant workers here in Canada. Since the 1960s people from the Caribbean and Latin America have been coming to work in Canada, mainly in farms but also in other "seasonal" activities, through treaties (or "convenios" in Spanish) between the governments of Canada and the country of origin of these individuals. This issue caught my attention probably during my first couple of years in Canada when it was featured on the news or some sort of investigative journalism programs on TV. I found it, originally, interesting because (1)the workers being showcased were Latin American (I will stop doing the whole hyphenation thing soon, I promise): they were Mexicans working in Leamington, Ontario; and (2)it reminded me of my social studies classes in high school and other sources (like "La Patria del Criollo") that described the "herding" or workers, mainly indigenous people, from the highlands of Guatemala to the Pacific Ocean coast where they were needed for harvesting whatever. Thus, the post-colonialists neurons I've developed immediately were alerted of an issue that instead of having been resolved it just evolved into some sort of globalized version of the "herding" including useless bureaucracy and lack of planning that such 21st century international treaties are well known for.

I saw "Migrants" again this past Friday... Aaraon's documentary presents a handful of seasonal workers from Mexico and their families, whose lives were affected by coming to Canada. Marital problems, cancer, brain damage, death... a second time around keeps making my activist self thinking about waking up. I was able to talk and socialize with Aaraon and some friends from J4MW after last Friday's screening. He thinks I might be able to help him with a project he has in mind for the workers here in Ontario. I hope that if that is so, I will have the determination of giving a little bit of my time to this cause. Would I pick this battle? Does it have to be a battle or just the much needed volunteer work I think I have left for others to do? Because, you see, 21st Century Canadian citizenship implies this type of community involvement. The judge that makes us swear loyalty to Her Majesty tells us so... We are bombarded by charity organizations asking us, not only for money, but for time, that precious currency we cherish so much for ourselves.

Migration is a topic that touches an inner chord in me. I am myself a migrant, a hybrid by choice. I am lucky though. The lives of people I love have been affected by immigration policies. I've been thinking recently on my weekly (sometimes daily) dose of "what if's" about the effects in my life as it is now if my tourist visas to Canada would have been rejected. Illegal "staying" in Canada has a face now for me as well, for reasons I cannot disclose here. The refugee status system seems to be flawed and with unacceptable amounts of Type I and Type II errors. That is, both letting people in that don't meet the criteria (or even lie about their situations) and denying status to those who will be persecuted once they return to their motherlands. People come to this country with technical and academic training that is not recognized, while there is a cry for skilled and unskilled workers.

So, the seasonal workers program, in paper, might sound like a solution. It might even be for the most part for the employer. And for the workers it most definitely is a chance of earning a "first world" salary for a part of the year. But is not a solution to illegal immigration, when this latter has the advantage of more freedom to chose from the different underground jobs that are available and in need of filling, whereas seasonal workers are still being "herd" across borders. Someone made the point last Friday of asking about the prevalence of problems like those shown in the documentary. For me (and I am a Stats guy, believe me) numbers don't matter. Particularly when, if a Canadian gets hurt or dies abroad, let's say in Cancún, it becomes an international incident.

Is there a double standard in the value of one human being's life over the life of another? You bet!

December 18th will be International Migrant's Day. You can check this website <http://www.december18.net> for activities and campaigns that might be occurring on your neck of the woods. And if you happen to be in Toronto at the time, you can check J4MW website <http://www.justicia4migrantworkers.org/>
for details on another screening of "Migrants: Those Who Come From Within" on that day.

La primera nevada...

Pues aunque tenía pensado escribir mi próxima entrada en español acerca del tranvía en Toronto hoy ocurrió uno de los eventos (para mí) más significativos del año... la primera "tormenta" de nieve dejó caer 10 cm. de esa sustancia fría y suave que lo cubrirá todo por los próximos meses. Es probable que esta nieve de otoño se derrita en los próximos días o durante la próxima semana, sin embargo, hoy en la mañana así se veía mi calle.


Esta entrada es a su vez una respuesta al comentario que mi hermano puso en mi entrada anterior (en inglés) sobre el otoño. Si se dan cuenta, en la barra derecha del blog hay un "wicket" que muestra la temperatura actual en Toronto. Ayer por la tarde tenía una franja roja con letras blancas anunciando la tormenta de nieve. También pueden notar que debajo de la temperatura (probablemente bajo cero) hay otra temperatura en chiquito precedida de la frase "feels like" ("se siente como") y eso se deba al factor del frío o "wind chill factor" en inglés. Por ejemplo, eso quiere decir que aunque el termómetro diga "-6 C" con el viento sentimos como si fuera "-10". Aqui pueden ver otras fotos de mi camino hacia York.

Y aquí otras que tomé en la rotonda de York, para que las comparen con las de hace unos días que subí en mi entrada anterior.

Hoy se celebra al sur de la frontera el día de acción de gracias y mañana será "viernes negro"... ¿alguien sabe por qué se le llama así? Acción de gracias en EE.UU. marca el comienzo de la temporada navideña. Acá en el "verdadero norte blanco" acción de gracias fue en octubre. Sin embargo, esta primera nevada, junto con el desfile de Santa Claus que fue el domingo pasado, son un signo definitivo de las fiestas de fin de año. Oficialmente es aún otoño, pero como podrán ver el invierno nos da siempre adelantos...

Para finalizar los dejo con una foto de la mezcla de nieve en el suelo, cuando se vuelve como granizada. En inglés la llaman "slush" y puede ser causante de algún percance peatonal en las banquetas o de tránsito en las calles, aunque no tanto como la "lluvia congelada" o "freezing rain"... de la cual espero no hablarles.

Saludos desde Toronto... ¿no desean estar por acá?