Though I am only 4 hours away from Whitehorse by car, the distance I am from home feels like it has tripled in one week. I walked back to the school after the lunch break today and thought, “I’m glad I don’t have to wear my puffy vest, only my hoodie!”
And, “Look at that snow bank melt!” Winter is at its tail end here, (I hope? Don’t jinx it!) meanwhile phone calls from home tell me everyone’s wearing shorts, eating on patios, thinking about tans. I recall winter beginning with a first fierce snowstorm in September, making this a stupidly long 7-month season. Who came up with that?
Tuesday I happily watched husband set up satellite TV and connect all the wires that make the Internet happen, keeping me in tune and at least electronically closer to home. How did homesick writers do it before the web? There is comfort in America’s Next Top Model and the same tea I drank in my cozy apartments at home. I also find it in my plush bath robe, boxes of Laura Secord chocolate from Easter time and hearing a giggly, curly-haired friend or an excited grade-eight sister on the other end of the phone when it rings.
I feel far from home when I look around at a school assembly that fills up a teensy corner of the vast court and realize I am the only blond, and one of the few people with white skin. It’s just odd to be in the minority, I guess. I feel worlds away when I meet a kid in grade three who doesn’t know his own name, because his parents and family members have never called him by it. I find no relatable ground when I see a kid upset, and the reason is not that their friends teased the, but that their parents got drunk and said mean things to them, so they were up late crying.
That said, I can see how Ross River will be a leap of a learning curve, a chance to learn about real struggle, find out who I am against a drastically different backdrop and of course start out a marriage in a welcoming, warm home for two.
Lesson #1: This weekend will not be about shopping at Canadian Tire before going out for dinner, renting a movie and meeting up with friends for coffee. Rather, it will be about exploring the hiking trails around us, clearing out the giant mountain of moving boxes in my backyard and hoping that our nice, quiet moments aren’t interrupted by a phone calling him out to work.

Labels: Ross River