Sail Away

Our weekends are now packed with sailing, which takes up a good part of the day, but in an amazing way. Now that we are used to this lifestyle, I can't imagine doing anything else on weekends. Relaxing in the park, by the pool? Sounds way too bland for my taste. The routine has been pretty well formed now, wake up at a decent hour, do chores like laundry, grocery shopping and cleaning if need to, then head over to Beaconsfield either by car or bicycle, which we did last Saturday. The ride was pretty, but entirely dangerous with so many pedestrians and crazy people riding on the road! Have a little road respect please! That's is a problem that comes with being such a bike-friendly city, a whole different topic I won't even get into. Anyways, once we arrive Beaconsfield yacht club (which is past Royal and Pointe Claire Yacht Clubs), have a snack or just set up the sails right away. The only boats we are allowed to use as junior members are the tiny, 13-feet squadrons. Still quite nice. Saturday, the wind was calm, Z and I took the boat out and had a lazy afternoon, put the boat in control position so that even without a heavy object, we can still stay in one place. We drank our beer, relaxed, and swam. When we bring the boat back, if it's nice and we are feeling lazy, we would relax by the lawn chairs facing the marina, read, eat, and chat. Or, we would have a snack or dinner at the yacht club, which was what we did on Saturday before getting back on the bikes and heading back to the city. The food at the club is surprising delicious and reasonably priced. The dishes are all quite homey and unique. For a plate of lobster roll at $12, I was amazed at how delicious and reasonable it was even though we were not in Maine or the Maritimes.

Sunday we returned anticipating a mad day out sailing because the wind was strong and scary almost. After lunch, we asked John the caretaker of the boats for the plug (so the boat will not sink in water), and he did not want us to go into the water. Club policy when the wind is so strong, it appears. We were so disappointed that we did not know what to do. He suggested we catch a ride with some people who are heading out, which was what we did. We made friends with a family of 3, their son was on a laser sailing separately. Their 27-ft boat is apparently an antique from the 80s but kept in great condition because of the fresh water and short sailing season. The wind was terribly strong that day. Their son, a veteran sailer, took the small laser boat out, within minutes capsized. That could have been us. Their other son, also a skilled sailor, was on our sailboat, manning the ropes of the gibe and controlling the wheel. The entire two hours we were out in the water, the boat was on a 60-80 degree angle due to the push and pull of the wind. The father says that sailboats would never topple over so not to be worry. We were being pulled so vertically that I just needed to reach over and could feel the water.

Usually, after an hour or two of sailing, we are back on shore, and call it a day. After enjoying the good weather in this way, how could we possibly return to the madness of city parks and fight for spots on the tennis court and the bike lanes?

St-Joseph-de-Beauce

Now something more pleasant. Last weekend, we went to St. Joseph-de-Beauce, a beautiful idyllic small town in the Beauce region of Québec, an hour south of Québec City. There, it is lush green everywhere, with your small church steeples sticking out from the trees, wild flowers were dotted neatly along the road, and the river flowed calmly from one town to the next. R had a trailer there in the municipal campground year round, same as about 20 other campground residents who spend much of the summer there. The campground is located next to a waterfall and creek. Her site was next to a calmer section of the river, but we still fall asleep to the sound of moving water at night.

When we arrived on Friday afternoon, I did not want to do anything except read and study French. Z went on a long bike ride and R and I spent 2 long and productive hours studying French. We constantly made fire, even before nightfall, because the air that day was not as warm as we expected. By 10PM, I could not keep my eyes open by the fire, and began dozing off.

The following day was beautiful, but we still built a small fire in the morning for breakfast. Because we were camping, I woke up promptly by 7AM while Z continued sleeping for another hour. I read by the morning dew, relishing the relaxation I have not sensed in a long time. Over the course of the long weekend, I read half of my book and am nearly done with it! Once I returned to Montreal however, I no longer read because all my time was devoted to studying French!

Shortly after breakfast, Z and I biked to the town tennis court and played tennis for nearly 2 hours. The sun, by then, was beating down on us in a muggy, heavy, and uncomfortable kind of way. Nevertheless, we were happy that the sun showed its face that day. We need to pick up our game of tennis. It's difficult to practice in a city that charges $10 per hour for its tennis court. Because we were also running low on wine, fruit, and dinner material, we shopped at the local grocery store and carried everything back in our bike baskets and backpack. We ate a late lunch. Time seemed to have stopped while we were camping. everything moves so slowly that all we wanted to do was take naps and read books.

When I had enough of relaxing, I hurried Z along for a 2 hour bike ride towards Vallée Jonction and Ste. Marie, which were two town over from where we were. Much of the road was paved and pleasant to ride on, but for a good section there, the road was so poorly maintained that I was hanging onto the bike for fear of being thrown off. Just crossing over St. Joe, we saw the pig slaughterhouse in Vallée Jonction, which elicited much lunch discussion earlier. The road was hilly as well, but a pleasant type of hilly, one that I was able to maneuver on my bike with ease. We imagined the Cabot trail and concluded that it is probably not much different except that the hills are longer and the wind is stronger. Definitely would need a new bike for that.

We returned from the bike ride soaked in sweat while parts of our body were covered in salt, dried from the heat. Time for a swim! R invited us to swim in her swimming hole next to her campsite, but the water was too shallow to enjoy swimming. We went to the covered bridge next to the campground and searched for the perfect swimming hole. Not far, there was a 25 feet tall waterfall, occupied by another family. We waited in another part, only to discover the moss-covered rocks were far too slippery for us to frolic in. The clammering over rocks and feeling our way from one end of the stream to another reminded me much of our misadventure in Mt. Washington, where any misstep could result in serious injury or death. Despite the enticing waterfall, we decided to leave it for the morbidly obese boy, a screaming husky, and a brother who jumps from the edge into the waterfall at a frequency far too much for us to enjoy swimming without worrying about being splashed or disturbed.

Eventually, we found our water hole, a secret no one else shared with us at the time. It was too perfect, the rocks, the easy edge to slip into, the waterfall, the depth, all just what we wanted to get out of a swim. We swim from one end to another, feeling our way with feet, occasionally bumping into slimy rocks that were too shallow and too dark for us to notice. The water hole was in fact located just at the foot of the tent campers' site. So when we climbed out onto solid ground, we found 10 pairs of eyes staring at our dripping wet bodies.

It was a good day and we rested well. Even though we went to bed later than the previous night, but the fire felt so good we did not want to leave. The following morning it began to rain on and off. After breakfast, all three of us rode our bikes in the opposite direction towards Beauceville. I found that to be a much nicer ride than the previous day. The humidity was still in the air and we were anticipating a shower at any moment. Finally, on our way back passing by abandoned farm houses, animals, and farms, the rain found us and decided to give us a good shower. We changed out of our dirty went cloths when we reached the campground and I put the bundle of wild flowers in a glass in the center of the table. We wanted to leave as soon as possible, but M, R's campground friend returned with his truck and giant 5-wheeler from a 2 nights out with his friends. It was difficult to watch this 79-year-old man attempting to back into his camp site with a monster of a truck. Even Z took about 30 minutes to get everything right on the dot, and parked the trailer in an exact spot marked by the old man.

We were back on the road after some pie and ice cream only to be in a steady traffic all the back to Montreal. Good bye relaxing country life!

Aboriginal Day Celebration - Célébration de la journée des autochtones

Day 1 - Radio Broadcast June 21, 2011

My day began at 9:30AM, when Alanna, one of the CKUT radio volunteers, joined me for some grocery shopping for lunch because our pre-determined kitchen coordinator bailed last minute. The meals became an onus on the volunteers, CKUT

radio, and the youth centre. Luckily, we were creative and came up with a quick and easy lunch menu for an indeterminate number of people.

Back at the Friendship Centre, everything was gleaning with a glow of new beginning. The gallery looked amazing. I still can't get over how the tiny storage space boutique was cleansed only 6 months ago in time for Christmas shopping, today, artworks are placed on the shelf according to the artist and looking professional and elegant. This is one project I am extremely proud of and continue to support it.

The radio equipments were setup on the empty lot up the street on St. Laurent. Volunteers were busily setting up make-shift tents and a broadcast station. Downstairs in the youth centre, other volunteers were chopping up fruit and vegetable, putting together sandwich plates, fruit salad, and potato chips, ready to carry out for lunch. Artists came at the time they were assigned and played original music. One hour was dedicated to the youth MCs at the youth centre who had been working on their own music for some time, creating beats on the computer and syncing their voices to the tunes. Beatrice Deer, a Mohawk-Inuit singer who sings her songs in both English and Inuktitut came and put on a terrific show at 3:30PM. Passerby stopped to listen and a crowd of 20 and more people applauded after her show and throat singing performance with her partner. At the same time, carvers were sculpting soapstone pieces outside and youths were finishing up their own pieces. Eugene was very happy with the carving turnout because participants were much more involved. Some of the pieces are going to be displayed at the gallery, some would be auctioned off the following day at the mini-powwow.

The youth centre became a playground for the little ones as volunteers and staff busied themselves as childcare service. In fact, this is possibly one of the hardest tasks on-site - imagine over 10 screaming children fighting for the ice hockey table, the crayons, the paints, and the toys. So props to the volunteers!

The radio show was successful, in fact, there was no break or silence in between. By 5PM, the entire setup moved indoors just before the community supper. Tiotha'ke drummed for half an hour, giving everyone a good ring to the ears and anted up the excitement level in the room. While everyone ate, several artists came on air to sing and perform. At the end of the 8 hour broadcast, I interviewed a former youth centre worker who is now working for another Inuit cultural institution and in the process of working on his own film.

Final cleanup at 9:30PM, and we all returned home after putting in 10 hours of work, exhausted but exhilarated.

Day 2 - mini-powwow June 22, 2011

The doors were open at 10AM, and people were already gathering around the drum circles, forming a larger circle with an empty space in the middle for the dancers. The room was starting to fill up with people, and we worried about over-capacity. Unfortunately, vendors did not come and we did not have the number of dancers expected. However, the turnout was great, it was energetic, small, and close-knit. Everyone knew everyone, shook each other's hands and hugged one another. Have not seen that kind of community atmosphere at the centre for some time now.

Grand entry at noon, dancers were all lined up and Joey, a staff carried the Friendship Centre staff and led the remaining drummers in the grand entry while drums were beaten hard and loud in the background. Al, another committed worker and organizer for this event, delegated tasks so that the event would run smoothly and safely. This day, I didn't do much at all, just enjoyed the day, said hi to people, and watched the dancers do their thing. Unfortunately, we eventually ran out of food for everyone, and just sold bannik here and there.

The auction did not turn out as expected, artworks were sold under-priced as we all cringed at how cheap a stone carving was sold for. Even some of the youth centre donations were sold much less than the original price. So this is not a good way to fundraise we decided and returned to the regular gallery activity.

I suppose there had to be some setbacks in an event like this. Some of the hosts who were assigned to the radio show did not show up; no kitchen coordinator, and no MC for the powwow and auction as originally planned. However, as with all things, we always have to get over these hurdles and not let the small things ruin the big picture. Many lessons were learned in two days. Improvisation, problem-solving on the spot, delegating tasks and responsibilities and following through on these responsibilities.

The drumming and singing and dancing stopped around 5PM, after which everyone scrambled for the Powwow giveaway at the end of the day, a present for all those who helped in the activity and all those who participated. The gallery and the youth centre coop initiative did well for themselves as well, making a name out there and fundraising for the centre and the event.

Dinner was one of the best ever at the centre, with Alan's most delicious three bean salad I've ever had! Not to mention all the wild game and meat: Beaver stew, Arctic Char soup, moose stew, goose and tarmigan wild rice. Everything one can find up north during the good hunting season. Community supper was a mix between community members and visitors, with the visitors coming back for third and even fourth servings in some cases. While the dinner was delicious, I don't think I can ever serve dinner again, it is completely a whole new ball field when it comes to dealing with picky eaters and demanding customers.

At the end of the night, we all flopped in our chairs, or the floor, with a loud sigh of relief. It was a successful event, one that is to be remembered and appreciated. Every person present had a good time, even the little ones. The biggest lesson of the two-day celebration is that: it was not something made from one person, it was an endeavor pursued by many people, each putting in their respective effort, and thus creating something so amazing and marvelous. We smile and rejoice that many people lent a hand to this event, that we did not back down when there were challenges facing us, and we stood together and watched a community come alive and together.

Weekend getaway - Mt. Washington

Mt. Washington - much respect

Woke up with a body ache. My legs, calfs, back, shoulders, arms, and side muscles. The lower body pains are from the arduous Mount Washington climb on Saturday - a 10-hour hike that nearly cost our lives, and the lower body pains are from whitewater kayaking day trip on Sunday. It was a fulfilling weekend that matches the 10-day multi-sport Southwest Adventure trip. We left Montreal on St. Jean Baptist, leaving behind all the revelry and inebriation that had been occurring a day in advance. The drive was not long, but after retrieving forgotten items, waiting tediously at the border as everyone else in Quebec seemed to bear the same idea in mind, and gorging down a delicious warm turkey sandwich at a deli gas station in Newport, VT, we finally arrived at the Dolly Copp campground just 5 minutes away from Pinkham Notch trailhead for the climb.

The campground was extremely nice, peaceful, and quiet. All the amenities were clean and well-maintained, none of that gross nasty dead bug crap smeared everyone in the bathrooms. The camp site itself was comfortable as well, definitely one of the better camping experiences I've ever had. The site was large, we placed our tent on a soft patch of grass, set up a tarp for rain protection over the fire, and began cooking at the fire. We were anticipating bad weather regardless of what we did that weekend. Weather forecast predicted thunderstorms and intermittent showers. The rain came suddenly around 10PM as we sat cozily by the fire. It was a downpour, and we rushed to the tent, sleeping well through the night amid the sound of raindrops on the plastic tent roof.

The early wake-up call had us pumped for the climb. We scoped out the trail length and expected time of hike, and began the ascend promptly at 8:30AM. Few miles north of the trailhead is the auto road that many cars take to reach the summit, which is highest at 6288 ft in New England. I've seen many "This car climbed Mt. Washington!" bumper stickers, and have always wanted one myself. The state park also offers train rides for those less capable. We were determined to get a "I climbed Mt. Washington!" sticker rather than gloating about our vehicle.

Because of the weather condition, parts of the Tuckerman Ravine trail, the main path many take to reach the top, are closed. Instead, after some treacherous jumping over rocks and boulders, we veered off onto the Lion's head trail that offers a less challenging path that connects back to the Tuckerman's Ravine and brings us to the summit. The hike is only 4 miles long, but has a vertical ascent of over 4000 ft. The steep is truly steep. The fog near the top had us guessing where the peak is. Since we could not see it, all we can do is blindly keep going. There were many hiking companions - many Québecois, with whom we took turns resting and passing one another.

For some reason, Z and I both thought we can beat the 4 hour average time by 30 minutes since we are "so in shape and fast hikers". But the time is as accurate as it gets. By 12:30, we finally reached the observation deck, which you cannot observe anything because the fog was so thick. While the hiking trail was not busy at all, the summit was packed with tourists, often large families with the old and the very young. Everyone was fighting for a photo-op at the summit sign that signifies that they were there. What an eyesore! Everyone was cutting in front of everyone else, with no respect for order and extremely rude. We f'd that and would NEVER recommend anyone to fight for such a cheesy photo shot.

Never take the same path twice, that's the motto we go back. So after a hearty lunch, we took another trail, the Huntington Ravine, on our descend. Huntington is on the other side of the mountain and is less known than Tuckerman. Many aim for the Tuckerman in the wintertime because of the bowl-shape of the ravine makes for an ideal backcountry ski location. Z's been wanting to ski Tuckerman for a long time. After the hike today, I told him, I'm happy to hike, but I would not hike with my skis and ski down - it is far too wild and scary for me! Huntington on the other hand is known for its ice picking/climbing notoriety. The mountain is sleek and steep, making it ideal for ice pickers to swing their picker into the ice and holding onto with their dear life. We experienced much of gripping on mountain climb on our descend. The trail was extremely hard, definitely the hardest and most dangerous we've ever done! Even more so than Angel's Landing in Zion National Park. Because it rained and the snow is melting, there were many slippery and wet spots. Coming down the slant with nothing to holding on to and looking over the shoulder and all you see is boulders and cliffs, did make for a pretty descend. I nearly collapsed and wanted to head back and take a safer route back, but we were so far already that it would be too time-wasting to turn around. The difficulty of the trail was compounded by the fact that the markers were not easy to see, when you are coming down the mountain. We ran into a few French Canadians who started off at the same time as us, but only reached the top an hour later. We found out later why. They warned us about the descend, the waterfalls, and the slippery rocks. We stubbornly went forward anyways. Another set of climbers thought we were crazy for taking the way down. Definitely recommended they told us. We were even more surprised that there was little warning at the trail head - "Descend at your own risk!" Nope, none of that.

The trail was definitely a 5-12 or however you call it in mountain climbing, where you must hold onto to grip while dangling off of a cliff until you finally found a foothold. The trail also does not get easier. After one treacherous part comes another, then another set of waterfalls with slippery rocks. Finally, I tripped on a rocks, and took a deep and hard fall. I sat in the mud and wanted to give up. Z pep talked me into continuing and after another 3 hours of difficult walking and hiking, along with wobbly legs and sore knees, we finally returned back to Tuckerman's Ravine with other hikers. The entire 4 hours, we hiked a little more than 2 miles and encountered no more than 7 people while back on the Tuckerman's, the trail was busy with tired and exhausted hikers, which gave us a sense of security and hope that we are almost at our destination. Despite our tired bodies, we flew to the trailhead, jumping over rocks and nearly running.

We returned to the gift shop and bought the infamous sticker at 6:30PM. Just enough time to set up the fire and cook dinner. Despite the exhaustion, we went to sleep at 11PM, falling into a dream almost instantly.

Whitewater Kayaking

The following morning we woke even earlier at 6AM to get everything ready - breakfast, packing up of the tent and the car, and clean up. We met our kayak guide, Liz, at the Great Glen Outdoor Center, across the street from the Mt. Washington Derby race that occurred bright and early at 6:30. We took our hats off to the national anthems (even a French Canadian version!), and took off to the Androscoggin River for whitewater kayaking, an hour away. The morning was mainly skill-building. How to sit snug in the kayak, how to put the skirt over the opening, how to flip over and get quickly and safely out of the kayak - tuck, pluck, and roll out underwater. Liz showed us the Eskimo roll at the end of the day, but by then, I was so exhausted that I had no more hip energy to roll over, presumably how an Eskimo would roll over, which is to a 180 or 360 turn underwater while staying in tact in the kayak. We also learned how to S curve it or ferry across one rapid into an eddy, jumping from eddy to eddy. Z capsized once, and we practiced several turns, and were finally ready to flow down the real thing. We went further upriver, and put our kayak in the water. There were much recreation going on, fly fishing, tubing, other kayakers, and canoers.

I fell into the water twice, on the second fall, I could not get out of the water and only flow down while trying to stay straight and keeping my feet up. The fishermen pointed and laughed, and I lost most of my confidence on that run. Somehow after lunch, with a more subdued attitude, I handled the water way better. We took runs over and over again, bringing the kayaks on our shoulder became not a thing. Z finally called tired, and here I wanted to go again. No more capsizing, and the challenge became truly fun and adventurous. Funny thing is, at lunch, Z asked if this is something I can see myself getting into, and I said no. But at the end of the day, I was inquiring Liz for how much end of the season kayaks sold for.

I'd like to get into a tough sport like this, and always thought being a guide is such an amazing work because you are just teaching people the sport that you love the most, sharing your enthusiasm everyday. Nevertheless, I'm not that wild and adventurous and was never that intensely passionate about a sport. Ski is as far as I'm concerned. What I was most impressed about Liz is that she's only been doing this highly under-publicized sport for 3 years. During the first year, she had no experience and learned everything on her own with few tips from friends here and there. Now she's a pro and can go up to Class 4 rivers, that's amazing progress! What we kayaked was class 2, with steady rapids and flows, nothing too major. Class 6 would be like Niagara fall.

It was such an exhilarating experience, definitely learned something new! $110 per person for a full day. At Rivère Rouge in Québec, there are probably better packages, but we truly enjoyed our day and made significant progress in a short 6 hour period. The sport is as well advertised as some of the others, such as whitewater rafting, which is by far less interesting than kayaking (from photos).

We drove back to Montreal, with a surprisingly short wait at the border, and arrived home at a reasonable hour. We were both exhausted to our bones and could not wake up this morning because every muscle in our body ached and screamed whenever we poked it or moved. Regardless of the consequence, it was such a worthwhile weekend! More adventures to come!

Aboriginal Day Celebration - Célébration de la journée des autochtones

francais ci-dessous

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JUNE 21st & 22nd - Aboriginal Day Celebrations: 8-Hour Radio-a-thon, Mini Pow Wow, Art Expo, and Native Friendship Centre Montreal’s Grand Re-Opening @ 2001 St Laurent (corner of Ontario)

The Native Friendship Centre of Montreal (NFCM) and its youth project, the Inter-Tribal Youth Centre (ITYC), are partnering with Radio CKUT, 90.3FM to celebrate Aboriginal peoples, the summer solstice, and the grand re-opening of the Native Friendship Centre of Montreal after months of massive renovation.

Join in this history-making festival for two full days of activity on Tuesday, June 21^st and Wednesday, June 22^nd

Tuesday, June 21st, 11-7pm

Location: Empty lot beside DIRA, anarchist bookstore, St Laurent (between Ontario and Sherbrooke)

Native Friendship Centre Montreal, 2001 St. Laurent (metro St. Laurent)

11-7pm

VOICES OF OUR NATIONS, 3rd annual, 8-hour Radio Broadcast, featuring live guests and performances by indigenous artists, musicians and community members, as well as exploring issues that affect indigenous communities in Canada

(listen live on 90.3fm or ckut.ca)

*LAUNCH of Native youth hip hop and rap musical productions. Over the last six months, youth at the ITYC have produced a repertoire of songs as part of the their monthly radio program, Native Solidarity News on CKUT, that will be performed and played during the Voices of Our Nations broadcast.

*FEATURING MUSICIANS: Odaya, Ti: ohtiake Drum Group, Chelsea Vowel, Moe Clark, Iqi Balam, Beatrice Deer, Pachuco, Marco on flutes & drum, Open Mic

COMMUNITY LUNCH, free!

2-5 PM

OPEN AIR STONE CARVING, by local artists and the Mikinak stone carving cooperative project of the ITYC, plus arts and traditional crafts exhibition

5-7pm

COMMUNITY FEAST, share in traditional foods prepared for the community, free!

**********

Wednesday, June 22nd, 10-7pm

Location: Native Friendship Centre Montreal, 2001 St. Laurent (metro St. Laurent)

10am

NFCM Grand Re-Opening begins

12pm

GRAND ENTRY

12pm-5pm

MINI POW-WOW (dancers, drummers, vendors all welcome)

ART EXPO & AUCTION, including stone carvings done by local artists and native youth

6pm

COMMUNITY FEAST

Co-Sponsors:

DIRA, anarchist lending library

QPIRG Concordia

QPIRG McGill

2110 Centre for Gender Advocacy

Projects Autochtones du Quebec (PAQ)

First People's House McGill

Kanata

Missing Justice

Frigo Vert

People's Potato

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For more info: www.ckut.ca

Contact: Ashanti Rosado, 514 499 1854 x2229 (youth.coordinator@nfcm.org)

Brett Pineau, 514 499 1854

Courtney Kirkby, CKUT Radio, 514 448 4041 x6788 (news@ckut.ca)

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21 et 22 juin: Célébrations de la Journée nationale des Autochtones et Grande Réouverture du Centre d’amitié autochtone de Montréal

Le Centre d’amitié autochtones de Montréal (CAAM) ainsi que son projet jeunesse, le Centre inter-bande des Jeunes (CIBJ), en partenariat avec la Radio CKUT, 90,3 fm, célébrerons les peuples autochtones, le solstice d’été, et la grande réouverture du Centre d’amitié autochtone de Montréal après des mois de rénovations.

Venez nous joindre pendant deux jours d’activités le mardi 21 juin et mercredi 22 juin!

Brett Pineau, directeur exécutif du CAAM dit, “Le processus [de rénovation] a été littéralement et figurativement une transformation qui se solde par un renouveau et une revitalisation du Centre, orienté vers les besoins de la communauté autochtone urbaine de Montréal, qui inclut une forte emphase sur la programmation d’activités et d’événements liés à notre mandat socioculturel et identitaire. Les célébrations de notre grande réouverture seront un moment opportun pour promouvoir la culture, les traditions et le patrimoine des Autochtones.”

“La radiodiffusion présente une opportunité de rassembler les membres des communautés autochtones de Montréal et ses environs, et de mettre en valeur la richesse des talents établis et émergeants,” dit Courtney Kirkby, coordonatrice des Nouvelles Communautaires à la Radio CKUT. “C’est une opportunité de célébrer les premiers peuples de ces terres.”

Les jeunes autochtones du Centre inter-bande des jeunes participeront au lancement de leurs productions musicales créées au cours des six derniers mois pendant leur émission radiophonique mensuelle sur CKUT.

Lieu : Centre d’amitié autochtone de Montréal, 2001 St. Laurent (métro St. Laurent)

Mardi, 21 Juin
11-19h
-“Voix de nos nations” Pour une troisième année d’affilé, cette radio diffusion de 8 heures mettra en vedette des artistes, des musiciens et des invités autochtones, et explorera des thèmes qui affectent les premiers peuples du Canada. (Ecoutez en directe sur 90,3FM ou ckut.ca)

Avec: Odaya, Ti: ohtiake Drum Group, Chelsea Vowel, Moe Clark, Iqi Balam, Beatrice Deer, Pachuco, Marco on flutes & drum, micro ouverte

-Exposition d’art et d’artisanat traditionnel, incluant des sculptures de pierre taillées par des artistes locaux et des jeunes autochtones.
17-19h
-Festin communautaire.

Mercredi, 22 Juin
10h
-CAAM grande réouverture débute.
12h
-Grande entrée
12-17h
-Mini Pow-Wow (Danseurs, percussionnistes, vendeurs bienvenues)
-Exposition et Encan d’art, incluant les sculptures faits par des artistes locaux et les jeunes autochtones.
18h
-Festin communautaire

Co commanditaires et partenaires

GRIPQ-Concordia

GRIPQ-McGill

le Projet Autochtone du Québec

KANATA

la maison des Premiers Peuples de McGill, .

Frigo Vert

People's Potato

DIRA
2110 Centre for Gender Advocacy

Missing Justice

Contacts :

Ashanti Rosado, 514 499 1854 x2229 (youth.coordinator@nfcm.org)

Brett Pineau, 514 499 1854

Courtney Kirkby, Radio CKUT, 514 448 4041 x6788 (news@ckut.ca)

Muffuletta attempt in MTL - Dépanneur le Pick-up

No more teaching, no more turning point (though everyday is still meaningful), back to Montréal for good, at least for the time being. I'm use this space to jot down memorable food, travel, and life experiences. Useful for visitors or locals discovering those hole in the wall best kept secret in town places that serve the best (or worst) food and things to do.

Such is Le Pick-up, a small dépanneur/restaurant hidden away on Waverly and Alexandre. Z and I read an article about making summer sandwiches in La Presse, with the theme specifically on muffulettas, which originated in New Orleans at the beginning of the 20th century, when Sicilian farmers in the French Quarter walked into Central Grocery at lunch time, and wanted to buy the ingredients for a meal. But the provolone, olives, bread, and the meat are too much to handle at their little stand, such that instead of buying individual toppings, grocery owner decided to put everything in between two pieces of bread and call it a day.

My mouth still waters when I think back to New Orleans, when we bought two muffulettas, one the real deal and one for the olive-averse Z. He hates olives for some reason and was very iffy about the thought of biting into a sandwich that was made entirely of meat and olives.

The sandwich was THE BEST THING I'VE EVER HAD, the real muffuletta that is. Drizzled in olive oil, it was the richest, juiciest, tastiest, most delicious thing in the world! We ate our sandwiches as we drove out of the city on our 10 day road trip from New Mexico back to Montreal. We nearly had to stop the car in order to scream how delicious the sandwich was.

The second one, was not nearly the same thing! You can't replace the olives in the sandwich with mere olive oil and dijon mustard! For this reason, Z and I were both mad at him for some time. By the time we finished the sandwiches, we were just about crossing over the Louisiana border, and we knew we lost the chance of going back to Central Grocery for another 10 muffulettas forever...

So whenever I see the label muffuletta somewhere in a deli shop, I can't hold down the urge to try it out - how close is it to the real thing? Once I ordered a muffuletta at D'Ellie's sandwich shop in Sugarloaf ski resort in Maine, and was quite disappointed by the lack of abundant olives and olive oil. We ate our sandwiches after we cross-country skied for an hour. Unfortunately, my muffuletta gave me a bit more than just mere disappointment but an emergency en route back to the condo. Luckily, we weren't very far from the chalet bathrooms. The moral of the story here is: when in New England, stick to your simple, plain, Italian, ham, or turkey sandwiches - definitely some of the best in the country.

ANYWAYS, back to Montreal - how are we expected to find a muffuletta in this French North American city? Well, the article essentially gave the task of making a muffuletta sandwich to five different sandwich shops, and each designed their own recipe. We chose Dépanneur le Pick-up (7032 Waverly) because the article said that they had the most traditional flavour, and comes closest to the original muffuletta. Well, we can't wait for that!

Sunday was a dreary, stormy day. Our plan was to roam the street festival and eat some cheap street food for lunch. After reading about the sandwich shop. We drove halfway across the city, dodging pedestrians, cyclists, detour signs, constructions, and one-way streets, until we arrive at this little convenient store, decked with colorful picnic benches outside. I recognized the genre right away - hipster hang-out!

We sat at the counter and I was so excited that I nearly burst in happiness! The propriéteur unfortunately busted my bubble, "We don't serve muffuletta on weekends. It's a weekly special thing. On weekends, we serve our special brunch because it's a different crowd. But if you come back during the week, we'll definitely have it!"

Instead of returning back to our car, we sighed deeply, picked up our heads, and ordered a pulled-pork sandwich each. The last time I had a pulled-pork sandwich was last year in Alabama, right where the BBQ special came from. Again, I was so iffy about how this one would turn out that I had butterflies in my stomach.

As we watched the pre-made pork package burn on the grill, and commented surreptitiously about the dirty sauce bottles in front of us, I began to worry about our choice of food and place. Yes, they played alternative hipster music, and yes the servers are very friendly albeit a little weird, how is the food???

After 15 minutes of watching the meat cook, we were finally served our respective sandwiches, each on grilled rolls, with a delicious-looking creamy spread, topped with cole slaw and peppers. The sandwich itself, ahem, was... SO DELICIOUS! Neither one of us spoke during our meal, and both of us were thinking, "Not bad... I'm OK with not getting my muffuletta, even though I'm really angry about that right, but this sandwich is pretty damn good!" It was juicy (flowed out with each bite), tasty, and traditional. No fancy smack-ons to decorate the sandwich, just your plain simple pulled-pork.

"How was the sandwich? Do you forgive us for not having the muffuletta?" I sheepishly nodded. Damn! That was the best sandwich I've ever had in this city!

So, the moral of the story is, it's not easy to get your muffuletta here in Montreal, and if you do, be weary of its authenticity. However, there are plenty of good sandwiches, just have to seek them out. 6.25$ for an original pulled-pork? Not bad at all.

Blows of a new semester

They hurt.

Somehow, nothing seems to be going right this month. TGI-only-few-more-months-before-summer-vacation.

After weeks of planning and revising, I submitted the Target Field Trip Grant back in November and finally heard back the first week when I came back from Christmas vacation. I wanted to organize a field trip for the MESA (our after-school math, science and engineering club) students to Albuquerque, but the distance, lodging and food will be costly in the end, and the little money we do have is definitely not enough. The grant is to provide for transportation and hotel fees. I was elated to find out that we received $800 from Target (my favorite mass retailer). Last year when I attempted to apply, I asked the principal, who was not sure (or accustomed) to teachers applying to independent organizations for grants, made a call to the central office and gave the OK. Unfortunately, I was a little too ambitious in the amount and too carefree on the application. Ultimately, I did not receive it. But this year is different, I thought, since I carefully budgeted out the spending, planned out specific assessment and objectives for the field trip, the hard work is finally paying off!

When I walked in the principal's office, I needed his signature in order to receive the check. He knitted his gray, thick eyebrows immediately, "Did you go through the business office? School board? Did you contact the superintendent? Did you call these hundreds of people on the district directory?" I was under the impression that I was OK to proceed since I already applied last year. No, I replied, I did not spend pointless effort calling people who don't give a shizzle for our club just so I can continue to put in more work in writing my own grant.

After another few phone calls, he came to me in the afternoon and said, "You are going to have to turn that down. Didn't follow district protocol."

... ... ... ...


"Why give away free money??" was the response I received several colleagues who sympathized.


At some point, one has to give in to bureaucracy, not just feeling powerless, but utterly ridiculous.

Incident two. I invited a local activist against an impending power plant that will be build just miles off the road, near communities and schools, to my classroom to tell her story. Since we are learning nonrenewable and renewable energy resources (following the standard!), I thought this guest talk would be completely relevant, local, real-world issues, thought-provoking, and educational. Since there are always two sides to everything, I was also planning to invite the power plant people to speak to the students.

The activist's talk was during the first week of school. At first, I was worried by her monotonous voice, that perhaps students would be bored and begin to fidget. I was amazed to find that they were all extremely attentive, respectful, quiet, and few even had questions! They were understanding a local issue! They were into it! I was so excited for them!

But of course, anything new and radical is bound to be reprimanded. The following day, I was called into the principal's office like a student waiting to be disciplined. "Your speaker yesterday was very inappropriate. Too political, we can't make the school political. In the future, reference all your speakers to see if they have a political agenda." I was surprised that he didn't reprimand me for not checking their criminal background like some colleagues may suggest, but instead wanted me to check for their agenda. In fact, a speaker's agenda is set by the teacher, at least in this case. I WANTED her to talk about issues that are close to home, issues that would affect the students' lives and families, so they can be exposed to different perspectives, especially since many have no idea what Desert Rock means. She was scheduled to return the next day to speak to the other half of the students, what I was supposed to do? "I don't want her to come back. I don't want her to come back." So... you are limiting half of the student body to not hear this woman's story, wouldn't that be even more political? "I don't care, she's not to come back." Of course, I was the news breaker, fueled by frustration and anger.

What about evolution? That is both a religious AND political issue. How can one separate science and the real world? Everything is about relating classroom material to RELEVANT events so students can RELATE, build prior knowledge, and learning can begin.

Our education system, at least in this area, is completely screwed up, with creepy white men running this district and school board who have no way of relating to the students living on the reservation, who have ailing family members, livestock to tend to, clans of brothers, sisters, nephews, and nieces who need babysitting, and relatives, if not themselves, affected by social ills such as alcoholism, drugs, and gambling. The messed up stories around here coming from exasperated voices we hear everyday are no longer movie material, but simply heart-breaking and incredible.

What is the solution? Turning potential, young, enthusiastic individuals away from education after some classroom experience dealing with students, parents, and administration is the worst of them all.

I'm tired of all this. Leaving is perhaps my only light at the end of the tunnel.