Happy Six Month Anniversary, Canada! I love you more than yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow.
Yes yes, I know that I came to Canada on August 31st, but February is deficient in the date department, so the 1st of March is as close as I can get to a legit six month anniversary. Also, my friend, also called Hannah, got married on the day I moved to Canada, and she's just announced her anniversary celebrations, so we're all at it with the dodgy dating.
Before I dwell more on the whole six month thing, I do have to share with you another gem from my Jewish Lit/Creative writing prof. Bear in mind we're in a class on Leonard Cohen.
Prof: Not that I'm name-dropping, but I had an email from Leonard Cohen on Friday...he's doing well, I told him about you, and he's given his blessing.
What a legend. (Both Leonard and my prof). Yeah, I'm on first name terms with Leonard now; the midterm does that, breaks down the student-famous poet barrier and now we're bosom buddies; mainly because when faced with a compulsory section of the exam, I didn't know any of them poems. Then I realised that I'd already looked at one in last semester's Jewish Canadian Lit class and praise The Lord, I was saved. I hope. We'll see how marks go. Let's just say I'm super thankful for taking Jewish Canadian Writers last semester.
In other news, the snow has returned. Not the snow that's ten feet high and piled up on the sidewalks, that's been there since early December. I'm talking about the snow so heavy, walking through it is like being assaulted by strobe lighting. Safe to say, I'm no longer sure if I'm in Ottawa or Narnia. It's also Islam Awareness Week, as run by the Islamic Students Society at the University of Ottawa. And I got given a gorgeous smelling white rose by them, with a little thing attached about Mohammed (PBUH). It's a really sweet gesture, but does anyone else see the irony in giving someone a piece of literature saying their prophet advocates equality, and then having public prayer where the men and women are separated? Also, their hope is in a man, not a God. However, they were also in a very fetching green, whereas the Christian Union at Exeter made us really suffer for Jesus on our events week by forcing us into an hideous yellow monstrosity. Not okay, guys.
I digress.
Six months eh? Where has the time gone? I know it's a cliche to say that time flies when you're having fun, but it's a cliche because it's true. At the same time, that late August afternoon when I took my first tentative steps into the Canadian sunshine and ended up sweaty and dishevelled in my landlord's car, seem like a million years ago. It's mind-blowing to comprehend all that's happened in the past six months. From that very first full day where I saw roller-blading pensioners and nearly got sun stroke on a canal boat ride, to whale watching, to Niagara Falls, to seeing a moose, to A+ papers, to new life-long friends, to hurricanes, to snow, to walking along frozen canals, to dog-sledding, to falling in love with Jewish Canadian literature, to even more snow!
When they say the year abroad is the best year of your life, they're not lying. That's not to say I haven't been homesick - I have; I've also fallen foul of impatient huskies and bad footwear choices in tropical storms and paid the head-slamming-concrete price. And I've stood in the middle of a Canadian supermarket aisle and sobbed for no real reason other than being totally overwhelmed at the enormity of foreign country living. But overcoming those things, whether through copious amounts of Tylenol or sheer determination, they all add to the adventure, to the feeling of unadulterated joy that is the year abroad.
Before I arrived in Canada, I was down and scared and anxious and unassertive and frustrated and tired and my aim was to find some courage, no matter how small. Six months later, I am proud of the fact that I seem to have developed courage in bucket loads. From the small things like talking to every person who has the misfortune of crossing my path, to the big things like walking on (frozen) water and just generally moving four thousand miles away across the Atlantic. (And the Atlantic is big).
I love it here, and I'm not just saying that in a blase or caught-up-in-emotion way, I really truly mean it: I love it here. I have been supremely blessed by the people I've met, from Canada to Australia, and everywhere in between. I've been given once in a lifetime opportunities and endless gut-bursting times of laughter.
I could focus on how my time here is coming to an end, but I think I'd rather look forward to all the adventures I can still squeeze in. Praise God for health insurance - and that I haven't needed it thus far!
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