Elder Wisdom

CATCHING UP WITH THE KATZIE

Throughout my lifetime I have been touched by, and passionate about, the mystery and mystic of the Indigenous peoples around the world. Getting to the point of understanding or better understanding the silence and noise that surrounds all of that, was initially not easy; but, a new approach has definitely cleared that path to wanting to do better.

I see the subject of Indigenous people, history and culture like looking at a mosaic full of different shapes, colours and textures. Looking at all of it at once is overwhelming and complicated, kind of like looking at a forest and not seeing the trees. The feeling is so very different when you zero in on one tile, tree or segment of the bigger picture at a time.

Recently, the Maple Ridge Library hosted a seminar entitled Honouring Our Elders  and the guest speaker was Katzie Elder Colene Pierre. By using her Katzie experience, knowledge and passion, the more than 70 attendees were carefully guided through a series of anecdotes that ultimately provided insight into the role of the Elder as leader, a sharer of knowledge, guide, teacher and counselor to their inner community, and the rest of us as well.

Some Elders now have taken on the role of speaking to the outside community as a new approach to raising awareness and educating, by telling their stories as well as asking and answering questions.

Although this topic-specific experience was only ninety minutes, what we got out of it was significant clarity and understanding about one tile in that vast beautiful Indigenous mosaic or one special tree in the bountiful earthly forest: the significance of the Elder in Indigenous societies.

The bottom line is we share this Earth together and while we are here, our collective goal should be to die proud and happy, feeling like we have lived a good life and, all the while, learned how to respect and honour all others, and to value all they have to offer.

As Elder Pierre said: she does see progress is being made. Teaching strategies are very different now than ever before and learning outcomes are starting to look promising. Our youth are stepping forward and wanting to learn more, to help solve the mysteries, help change the stereotype attitudes and help lead us all forward in a more harmonious and informed way. 

Those of us well beyond our “youth” years have a key role in all of this too —  this is our time to embrace a collective pledge to unravel the mystery behind Indigenous history, culture, beliefs and practices, and often the misunderstandings derived from misinformation, and move forward together with new hope and optimism as our common thread.

Preserving Friendships

 Celebrating Friendship

August 2023

In a small tri-city area community called Port Moody, there is an interesting, quaint restaurant called Saint Street Grill, located on St. John Street.

When you walk in the front door, you feel surprised and curious, as you stroll through to your reserved table. It feels familiar yet it’s your first time there. The decor is unique and colours are calming. The air is fresh and the staff welcoming.

The menu is especially small, yet the options are varied enough to ensure there is something for every awaiting palate. I enjoyed a halibut dinner with roasted potatoes and vegetables, as did my long time friends Maurine and Tina. We first met about 50 years ago while living on the same street in Burnaby. I was Tina’s softball coach at Wesburn Park and Maurine is her mother. 

It was at that time in my life when I realized I did not like competition and my love of softball was really all about doing something I enjoyed in the spirit of camaraderie and outdoor pleasure. It was also at a time when I started post secondary studies at Simon Fraser University, following a syllabus of studies that needed a great deal of undivided attention. As a result, I left the love of softball behind but always, at least peripherally, kept in touch with Maurine and Tina — two lovely people who understood me then and who understand me now. We have walked together through many of life’s experiences, the ups and the downs, and remain the best of friends despite our busy lives.

I cherish the time we spend together, and having delicious meals, in quaint, eclectic eateries like the Saint Street Grill, where we reminisce and enjoy open, honest discussions, and a great meal including dessert, is definitely a great way to celebrate our lifelong friendship.

TWO TRAVELLING TALES

 TWO TRAVELLING TALES!

My brother and I boldly undertook a road trip to Cariboo country in central British Columbia recently. It was a bad time to travel as the whole province was ablaze — or at least that’s the impression we got from media reports. Our sister assuredly assured us they were in a unique wide bubble with no fire, no smoke, no issues. So, off we went.

We headed east on the TransCanada Highway and all was fine until we approached Hope, about two hours from home. We saw the plumes of smoke in the direction of the Fraser Canyon, a route we already knew was closed. Our hearts sank briefly because our “growing up” hamlet of North Bend was in the center of that story and accurate reports were hard to find.

We continued on the alternate route called the Coquihalla Highway to a town called Merritt, where we briefly stretched our legs. It was too smokey to stay for a town walk. 

From there we took a smaller roadway to a town known for copper mining — Logan Lake, in the Nicola Valley. Very smokey. As we approached the mine located on the left side of a very high hill, I thought a gigantic crater had fallen from above and that the vast area was being preserved for science fiction movie sets! It was shocking, eerie and just so unusual. My brother told me it’s the copper mine, one of our province’s big sources of revenue and a best kept secret. When I saw the tailing ponds, I realized it was best to keep it a secret! Enough said.

As we arrived in the town of Ashcroft, we parked and did our own thing for about forty minutes. I checked out the local bakery for freshly made cheese buns and then wandered through the iconic Fields department store. It’s a store very familiar to small town residents and travellers, but their locations have depleted over the years. It’s my place for cotton nightgowns and tie dyed cotton teeshirts! No luck this time.

Up the hill and on our way north, we stopped at a local hidden gem called Desert Hills Farm. It is a huge acreage with a make-shift store loaded with gigantic bins of every root vegetable you can think of, all priced impressively low, plus extra gems like free locally grown cantaloupes. It was amazing and definitely a required stop next time too.

Our journey continued north and ended about 45 minutes off the highway to 100 Mile House, deep into the forested area in which there are dozens of lakes. The sky was blue and the air was fresh, and being at Sulphurous Lake felt like putting one sad book aside and opening up a fresh new one. 

We unpacked, hurriedly enjoyed a bbq dinner and rushed off to the local firehall to participate in a crib round robin with about 15 others from the area. They welcomed us as one of them right away, and engaged in lots of interesting conversation. Turns out one of the men lives down the street from me in Maple Ridge. How weird is that? 

The next day we did what people in places like that do … enjoyed a leisurely morning on the deck, ventured out on kayaks, visited the Share Shack at the nearby dump to drop off some quality items that others might want, and filled our trunk with loads of goodies that others had left for the taking. 

From there we drove less than a kilometer further to check out the country store, bought a lottery ticket and an ice cream cone, before heading home to relax on ergonomic lounge chairs talking, reading, snoozing and watching the almost glass-like surface of the lake in front of us. I call it forest therapy because it is all very calming and quiet.

The next morning, after breakfast, I drove to the big town about 40 minutes north called One Hundred Mile House. I make a point of going there to check out the commerce and spend a bit of money to help out the local economy. This time I got beach towel clamps, bathing suit cover up, a cappuccino mug, cans of tuna and cans of mixed nuts. It’s always a nice outing. 

I look forward to the trip back to the lake cottage to share my finds, and to get back to the serene setting. This time I got into appropriate attire to kayak alone into the middle section of the lake, to stop, sit back and read a magazine while the bright sunshine shone on me and around me, without a cloud in the sky. It was amazing!

We once again enjoyed a bbq dinner, watched the terrible news about forest fires all over our province — homes, businesses, hotels, artwork, animals lost. All so hard to believe and all so very sad.

We packed up the next day, reentered smokey regions, navigated through a different route to avoid more potential road closures and to access a more direct route home. 

We were thankful to be in a safe, fresh air, clear blue sky bubble for a few days; but, mindful of all those who were/are facing fear, anxiety, uncertainty and losses in the forest fire ravaged Kamloops, Shuswap, Upper Fraser Valley, and Okanagan Valley regions. 

It’s so very difficult for outsiders to fathom the reality of forest fires, evacuation orders and evacuation alerts; but, driving through blankets of smoke coming from the homebases of others, and seeing red hot flames of fire scouring mountains, trees and buildings, parks and roads, makes it more real for travellers and News watchers to share and almost fully understand the fears and anxieties of those directly impacted. 

This definitely will be a two-taled trip and vacation long to be remembered.

HAPPY TO BE HIGH

                                                    Happy To Be High

If she is high on a lot of life

And high on a lot of living

Then let her be high

Pump it up and let it flow

Higher than a kite

Quietly High 

with occasional turbulences

Trying to slow her down

Like drama, jealousy and envy

But failing.

She is high, happy to be high

Beyond what she could have imagined

Confidently holding hands and head high

Embracing high fives.

Happy to be high at last.

Antoinetta DeWit

August 2023

Garden of Glory

 Garden of Glory

After enjoying two fabulous weeks near the equator, far removed from mountains and Canadian scenery but close to heaven, harmony and unimpeded happiness, it has also been great to come to my other home and back into the groove of retirement life in British Columbia.

As tired as I often feel on day one of my return, I once again rolled over out of bed at a very weird early hour, wide awake and anxious to get ready for the plan for the day. 

Before heading out to the community indoor pool for an Aquafit session with a group of like-minded, diverse and very interesting aqua mammals, I loaded the washing machine, made a delicious mochachino coupled with authentic dutch gouda on toasted pumpkin seed bread, and turned on the iPad to catch up on scrabble turns and news.

The welcome back at the pool was heartwarming and appreciated; the class was refreshing and it nicely awakened dormant muscles. It is very hard to endure outdoor exercises in the tropics because it is so very hot; and, since outdoor exercises is what I favour, being away from them usually requires a bit of a slow ease to get back into the groove. It now only takes one class and it is like I never left. I also easily see the grumpy mammal in front of me at the pool is as grumpy and unpleasant to me (and me alone) as ever — she is an interesting study but that would be a whole different story to tell. Needless to say this garden of glory story has no room for weeds.

By early afternoon, I start to feel my feet drag and I yearn to stretch out on my comfortable sofa for a few zees. I fight it off by doing the basics like opening mail, returning phone calls, reconciling expenses, paying bills, and making a grocery list.  I open my paper ‘month in a glance’ booklet and start to fill in the slots with social and recreational plans. 

At some point, I cannot keep my eyes open much longer. I fall to a summer catnap and wake up just in time for a 3 pm game of online cribbage with a friend in Peterborough. It is one of those daily routine things that takes a bit of a hiatus when I am away.

Although I am not an avid television viewer, and I do not use recording devices, there are two weekdays shows I enjoy watching when they are on — 4 pm and 7 pm. Due to the nature of those shows, it is very easy to catch up and figure out what actually happened.  The story lines are intriguing and they help me keep my own creative juices well oiled.

By day two this time, I woke up a bit later and felt a lot better. I glanced at my ‘to do’ list and plotted out a cycling map to accomplish as much as I could in one circle route. Bank, Post Office, Drug Store, groceries, take-out lunch.  I reconnected with my FB social groups on line and friends in person, and joined the walking group for a 90 minute walk along the dyke paths nearby. 

In the days leading me closer to Canada Day (July 1), I go to my ‘go to’ storage area to dig up the appropriate apparel for the local festivities.  I usually go to a different community every year to see how the celebrations differ, but this year I am doing the same as last year — cycling to Pitt Meadows in the morning and Maple Ridge in the afternoon. 

The day turns out to be a beautiful warm and sunny one with very little traffic, as I cycle the almost four kilometres to the Spirit Square in Pitt Meadows.  I arrive early but many of the booths are set up and the pancake breakfast was in full swing.  At the information booth I take a tattoo, flag and mojo; I talk to some people I know; I check out the venders and found myself freeze in front of the three flag poles donning flags at half mast. I ask around to find out who died and why the flags were in mourning.  Nobody had an answer, not even the clerks at the library booth, and oddly nobody seemed to care,  I did care and was very bothered, as I moved on to view the tall stick people and the star wars character picture booth.

After eating the pint of fresh blueberries from the local blueberry farmer at the Khalsa tent, I left Pitt Meadows along a quiet and safe route following the railway tracks most of the way before turning north to the very impressive multi-use path along 117th. That path in and of itself assures me my tax dollars have been well spent.

I make my way to the Memorial Park in Maple Ridge where a flurry of vendors, promotional booths, samples, freebies, a market and entertainment. I saw many familiar faces and was especially glad to enjoy a large freshly squeezed lemonade! I entered a contest to name a Jeep; it is not clear if the winning name wins the Jeep or some other prize; but, I’m expecting a phone call in the days ahead to announce my win ! 

I saw a couple of my co-aquafitters fully enjoying their day donned in red and white.  One was that grumpy mammal from whom I stayed clear because nothing and nobody will ever be given a chance to dampen my spirit on Canada Day! I did not want to give her cause to ignite that awful side of her either. Her two companions would be equally stunned, I am sure. I continue to hope she gets the help she needs to move forward. I have offered to wave my fee!

I did have a few good chats with the other one, and her delightful husband — both very pleasant people. My friend Tina was managing the COUNTRYFEST promo between the Llamas and rabbits! She heads that organization and is the brains behind its success. Her booth was getting a lot of attention and it was nice of her to allow me to station my bicycle there while I went off to view the classic cars and watch the fabulous Indigenous dancing on the MainStage.  This was another wonderful day in the life of a happy Maple Ridge resident and proud Canadian!  It was topped off with an ice-cold  sparkling made in Canada apple cider!  

Canadians are known to be pretty low key when it comes to patriotism; but, on Canada Day clear across the country, people come out in droves to partake in the festivities. Many don the red and white clothes, apply the maple leaf tattoo, hold the paper flag, wear the flag pin on their tops, and stand tall and proud during the singing of O Canada. It is quite amazing and impressive. It does not seem to matter if I experience it in small towns, medium cities or large metropolises — we know how fortunate we are; we know we have come a long way in 156 years; we know we have some wrongs to correct; and, we can now finally say the tide on those wrongs are turning in the right direction as more and more people are clueing in.

As my family and friends already know, I love to escape to the glory of my home away from home (Aruba); but, I also love to come home to enjoy the many glories of this home too. In a sense, they are two very different paradises; but, I will never choose one over the other, and always fully enjoy both — making sure the metaphoric ‘gardens’ are well tended to in either place.

HIGHWAY HEROES

 HIGHWAY HEROES

There is a Canadian TV series that follows the heroes of our most dangerous highways, and our most incredible highway accidents in the province of British Columbia. They are the heavy wreck rescuers — incredibly smart, devoted and determined angels who can unravel any roadway mishap with confidence and carefully planned, precision decisions, under any weather or road conditions.

The show is called Highway Thru Hell and features the unique rescue operations of Jamie Davis’s Motor Truck and Auto business undertaking the rescuing of the most scary and unbelievable big rig accidents on the mountain pass highways. He often teams up with other extreme road assistance companies like Aggressive Towing and Reliable Towing, and that is where this story begins.

Today I undertook a journey from the burbs to the big city. I started along the Lougheed Highway heading west and up ahead I spotted a  massive tow truck. It continued along the Mary Hill ByPass and as we approached a traffic light, I found myself stopped right beside it. I smiled when I saw the word RELIABLE on the driver’s door. I honked at the driver, waved and smiled. I could not see his face at the time because his seat was very high up and I was a mere midget in my regular sized car.  As he drove off, I stayed behind a tad to get a better look at the driver — he was one of the guys I often see on the show.

“Wow”, I said to myself. “I wonder where he is going?”

He continued on ahead of me, exited the ByPass and linked on to Highway One.  I decided he must be going to rescue a big rig on the Sea to Sky Highway. At least I thought that was a logical conclusion until he took the Grandview Exit and travelled along Twelfth Avenue —  my route to midtown Vancouver. This was no where near our mountain passes, logging roads or rugged cliffs — all memorable scenes from the show. This was to be something very different.

At this point I was in a good position to pass him.  

As I looked up ahead, to my right, I could see yet another larger than usual tow truck parked along Twelfth Avenue. As I passed it, the side panel said ADVANCED TOWING. Based on the many Highway Thru Hell shows I have watched, my mind put two and two together — the assigned job was too big for Advanced so he radioed headquarters for assistance, and that brought out the RELIABLE big white rescue truck so the two could work together to get a job done, and done well.

Some might wonder what kind of massively complicated rescue job could be happening, on a bleak and drizzly day, along side a mostly residential neighbourhood, with the occasional business here and there?

Well — it just wasn’t feasible for me to stop to get the answer. But, hopefully, the answer will come on an upcoming episode. Then I can say:  “I was there!!”

A Blast From Our Past

 A BLAST FROM OUR PAST!

This week I saw an advertisement that flashed me back into nostalgia mode — “$1.49 Day Tuesday.”  Can you hear the jingle?

Back in the day and even before I was born, a big department store named Army and Navy and another big department store named Woodwards, featured $1.49 Day sales on some Tuesdays. Another big department store named Eatons featured an occasional sale called Eaton’s Surprise Sale.  

All three events became the talk of the town and of the dinner tables across the regions in which those stores existed. People would come from far and wide — by foot, bicycle, car or public transit. It was ‘the’ sale of sales and not to be missed. It was ‘the’ time to stock up on toilet paper, Kleenex, hosiery, underwear, socks, Spam, canned goods, light bulbs, cleaning supplies and so much more. Amassing the bargains was an amazing experience for the shoppers and the businesses — a win-win all around.

At some point in the 1980s, those experiences ended — until now!

What we have experienced this week is like the phoenix rising from the ashes and bringing new life to a long lost treasure: $1.49 Day. We have been gleefully caught off guard with a pairing of very fine wine and aged cheese — namely,  a Surprise Sale and a selection of incredible healthy items for $1.49 combined for one day: Tuesday! 

Raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, ham, milk, and almost a dozen other items. Supplies were advertised to be limited but the stores were well stocked and the people, those who knew about the sale and those that did not, were stunned and amazed as they loaded their baskets with that “start the car, start the car” look. 

Kudos to Save on Foods for taking a giant step forward (or some might say backward) and bringing back a spring in the step of shoppers during these tough economic times. This is the right time for corporate giants to show leadership even if it is only going to happen on occasional Tuesdays. It not only benefits the pocketbook, but helps get healthy, often expensive foods, on the table. 

It only takes one to make a snowball and turn it into something bigger. Thank you Save On Foods. Such a sale  is a win-win — let’s hope other businesses catch on!

A TOUCH OF DUTCH

 A TOUCH OF DUTCH NEXT DOOR

THERE is a quaint Dutch town only eight kilometres south of the British Columbia/Washington State border. It is called Lynden and it is now one of the largest Dutch American communities in the USA.

A small group of Dutchies settled there in the 1800s, followed by many others in that century, and the next, influencing the town’s history, culture and ambiance — much of which is still obvious today. It’s a community of about 12,000 and its economy depends on dairy, berry, grain, hops and vegetable farms, as well as tourism.

“Holland Days,” a Dutch Cultural festival, started in 1985. this two day Spring event, features costumed shopkeepers and Dutch Klompen (wooden shoes) dancers, and Dutch food. In the 1980s, Lynden remodeled part of Front Street in a Dutch theme, complete with a windmill. There is now also a Dutch bakery and restaurant in the town.

One of the showcase events of this part of Washington State is the annual tulip festival, an experience enjoyed by thousands of people who come from all over the region to witness the vibrant blooming of Spring.

Whether it’s festival time or just an ordinary day, Lynden is like a hidden jewel in the middle of nowhere, making itself somewhere worth seeing and experiencing!

Oliebollen — Dutch dumplings

 NEW YEAR’S EVE 2022

As my life as a single retiree unfolds, I have developed a love of establishing my very own traditions. One of those traditions has become a yearly trip to the lovely home of a Dutch family that lives only a community away — Pitt Meadows, British Columbia, Canada.

I met Klamer at the outdoor aquafit class many years ago and my ears were drawn towards his accent.  

“Oh my gawd, there is a dutchie in my midst.” I said to myself and immediately introduced myself. 

It is not often that I meet dutchies in my circles, and that point in my life cycle, was the most à propos time to get the opportunity to appreciate it. We engaged in lots of conversations, all linked to our homeland. We talked about how we ended up in Canada, how our family lives unfolded, what cultural traditions we kept, what Dutch things we still buy, make, eat and enjoy. 

As New Year’s Eve approached that year, he invited me over to his house to enjoy a Dutch tradition called Oliebollen, with his wife, adult daughter, and other relatives. It was a heartwarming experience that reminded me of the years I enjoyed those purely Dutch evenings with my family. 

We all watched Klamer who is a trained baker extraordinaire, prepare the batter, explain the process of making it right, demonstrate how to transfer the dough into the appropriately heated oil, wait for the balls to flip over on their own, and then transfer them to a stainless steel bowl, paired with a bowl of icing sugar, for presentation at the dining table. It felt so great to realise I was experiencing “Dutchness” outside of my family home for the first time in my life.

The occasion has continued every year since and this year was no exception. I arrived on time and there was Klamer outside on the back porch, standing in front of the small patio table upon which stood a new burner and a new pot of hot oil.  

He proudly and carefully dropped five ice cream scoops of batter into the hot oil, watched and waited for the balls to turn over on their own, to brown on the other side. He would then scoop them into the awaiting bowl, and go through the whole process again several times, producing probably fifty oliebollen for the guests to enjoy (and take home).

At this point the readers are asking “what are oliebollen?” Basically they are a special recipe of yeast, milk, flour, eggs and raisins (optional). They are Dutch pastries similar to doughnuts. Some modern variations are served plain or with berry filling, and they are a popular treat on New Year’s — and, especially delicious when served warm.

This yearly occasion definitely puts the ‘happy’ in my Happy New Year! What are the chances of actually meeting a dutchie; pretty slim. Probably even more rare is to actually meet a dutchie with lifelong experience as a culinary specialist, with a warm, loving, proud and welcoming family that invites me into their home to share in the glory of indulging in a delicious feast — all the while engaging in meaningful and interesting conversation around topics of mutual interest.

It’s a blessing for sure and it’s a tradition that helps me remember my roots, my culture and my mindset. Dutchies are steadfast and proud; our cuisine is simple and low cost; our bakeries are popular and very busy. Our candies are salty and sweet; black, white and colourful. Our hearts are spirited and we are determined in our resolve to not let go. 

Celebrating all of it at the end of the year, with the rising dough of oliebollen and the joy of like minded people in a beautiful home, truly makes for a wonderful celebration of one of our cultural traditions.