Well, I've sort of let blogging drop down my list of priorities since I've arrived in this new city, but I've been feeling particularly pensive over the past week or so and thought it best to get it out.
Today is election day in the DRC. As I sit and write with a cup of coffee in my kitchen there are only a couple of hours until polls will close. Al Jazeera has already informed the world of the violence in the southeast of the country - in the city of Lubumbashi - where frustrations over what has been expressed as a lack of organization (names missing from voter rolls, poll stations not opening on time) has led to stations being burned down and riot-type street violence erupting in various locations throughout the country, including in Kinshasa. From what I've managed to gather over the past six months, through the limited and subjective media sources available who are actually reporting anything about election developments in the DRC, there has been a fair amount of such violence occurring, caused by allegations of fraud and corruption; government attempts to control (and often shut down successfully, albeit temporarily) media; and, among other things, various supporters of certain political parties losing their shit towards supporters of certain other political parties. In addition, I've learned from Facebook status updates that my family members are currently, and have been numerous other times recently, relegated behind the safety of their high compound walls due to the high tension and violence in the capital and because it would be unsafe for them to be out and about.
So, why? Why so much violence and unrest over a process and event that, theoretically, carries with it so much potential for progress and stability? Well, I certainly don't have any definitive answers to these questions. These are matters far too complex to have definitive answers. But I've been doing a fair amount of pondering from this very safe place in which I am situated (both physically, and in a broader, global sense). Let's take, for one, the Occupy movements that have sprung up and been quelled in various parts of North America recently. I've heard a lot of people asking - and have had a few conversations/debates over - just what the Occupy movement is about and has achieved. If we break it down to its most basic purpose, we can say that at its root it is a protest against the disparity of wealth in North America and the world over. Well, what a different form this takes in this hemisphere. With exceptions, it has been a fairly peaceful movement. Here in Toronto, Occupiers took over St. James Park successfully for a full five weeks before having been evicted last week. The damage: the ground in the park turned into a swamp. No one was seriously injured or killed; there were no violent stand-offs with the police; in fact, although in my opinion ultimately its demise, it was an incredibly inclusive environment and, to its credit, run as democratically as could have been in the grassroots sense of the concept. But - and this is not to diminish the validity of concerns about the ways in which disparity is manifested in this part of the world - the very peaceful and democratic nature of the movement speaks to the privilege of those involved. This disparity of wealth in the DRC manifests itself much differently. It breeds desperation. I can speak to this in having felt a thick tension in the air in Kinshasa, as though people were always on the edge of erupting. Agh, I feel like I'm not explaining this accurately. A story to illustrate:
When I was staying in Maluku, Mama Yvete took me to a huge outdoor market on the shore of the Congo River. Not being the type of place that white people frequent, my presence was something of an event. We had already been there nearly 45 minutes when, for just a brief moment, Yvete left my side to speak with a friend and about five women surrounded me and began asking me why I was there. They were for the most part just curious and friendly, but it only took about a minute for five people to turn into 25, and for the curiosity of a few to turn into hostility on the part of others. I overheard people around me making nasty comments about the rich white girl taking a trip down to the river to observe (i.e. exploit) the poor locals, and others commenting that the market was no place for me to be. I was quite thickly surrounded and the crowd was not only growing but starting to converge on me, all in a matter of just a few minutes, when Yvete pushed through and grabbed me and then led me to sit under a canopy that friends of hers were selling fish from while the balloon of tension sort of deflated and the one man who had followed us, showing me his foot so swollen and infected that it looked gangrenous and asking me for money, finally gave up and left.
It all happened so quickly that it wasn't until later that evening that I realized that for the first - and only - time, I had been afraid. I remember being acutely aware of feeling the tension building around me. I remember hearing some of the people around me trying to calm others down, clarifying my purpose there as I had explained it (I'm just a student, doing my practicum here, in Conflict Resolution studies). I remember questioning whether I did have any right being there at all (I'm still not sure).
I think that this experience that I had speaks well to the ways in which these different parts of the world experience a similar phenomenon. Imagine what an issue as contentious and highly charged as national elections might do to transform the environment in a society living in abject poverty?
Now, on the other hand, nowhere in the world will you find such resilience and hope as you will in places like the DRC, which have been plagued by oppression and injustice for about a century and a half by colonialism, bureaucratic kleptocracy, war, corruption, and poverty. People are passionate about the potential their country has for positive change. But is democracy really the answer? And what form should it take if it is? Democracy is an imposed political structure with imposed ideologies in this country. The territory was, before it was colonized, comprised of a series of kingdoms - slavery not only existed but was well ingrained in societies. And they functioned well. And then, after 75 years of colonialism, post-independent Congo's first democratically elected Prime Minister was assassinated and the country was taken over by a military dictator. 32 years of brutality and theft later, another militarized coup changed the scene (ever so slightly). It was not until 2003 that a peace accord was signed that commenced the adoption of democratic processes. However, now in 2011, during only the third democratic elections the country has seen in 51 years of independence, many Congolese have little faith in the type of democracy that exists in the country's institutions and little faith in the majority of its elected leaders. I've stated this before, but I'll state it again: when I was there and asked people what type of leadership they thought best for their country, many people responded by telling me that democracy is not 'natural' in Congo, and that they thought it best to have the country run by a benevolent dictator. I don't purport to speak for Congolese people, and also met a significant number of people who believed that democracy was the only way to go. I'm just saying... that I really, really hope that whover are the elected leaders this time around are elected fairly, and that this election has positive results for Congolese people, whereby the disparity is lessened and people's hopes are realized. What else can I say? This is the point at which all of my ranting about this wonderful place in the world has always hit a brick wall. Nothing I have ever been able to think or say has ever been conclusive. I don't know that I have a right to be conclusive. But I do have a right to hope, and hope I do for good things for my Congolese family and friends.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
A cupboard party
It is November 1, 2011, the sun is shining, the sky is clear, and I have been in Toronto for exactly one month today. Couldn't be happier.
In honour of this momentous occasion, Mel, Peter and I are having a cupboard party tonight. Due to our paranoia as a result of ongoing pest (i.e. cockroach) issues - adding to which, I have discovered, we also have mice - we haven't actually put anything away in our kitchen cupboards. I think I can accurately speak for all three of us when I say that it drives us all nuts, but as long as the cupboards have been empty (after, of course, the first couple of pesticide treatments), we haven't seen any roaches in them. As soon as anything is placed in them, the little (insert profanity)s have shown up within hours. But it's been a couple of weeks now since our kitchen was treated a third time, and I think we're ready to give it another shot. It's time to move in. So I'm going to pick up some wine and we're going to stock the cupboards. Fitting, no?
It feels rather surreal to think that I've been here a month now. In a sense it's flown by. After all, a month is not exactly a huge, significant amount of time. Although I feel much more comfortable getting around and using the transit system here, I still really don't know this massive city all that well which will, of course, come in time. I do know how to take the subway to Queen Street, though, which is a marvelous street to stroll down. However, in other ways it feels like I've been here much longer than a month. I don't like being unemployed. It's boring. Sure, I'm filling my time job hunting (I will admit that that kind of went to the dogs last week though - I got rather lazy). But it's exhausting, and although I am receiving a comfortable income on EI I'm not exactly loaded and Toronto is expensive. I don't have a crazy social life. Have been looking into different volunteer opportunities and hope to get in somewhere soon. It'll help me network and fill my time and be fun.
The other contributing factor to my feeling as though I've been here so much longer is how much I miss my mother. Waah. I miss her terribly! I am aching for a big Mama Bear hug.
In any case, I'm still plugging along. I looked in the mirror yesterday and realized that I've lost weight - from all of the walking I'm doing I would imagine - and physically feel great, which boosts my emotional health too :) I also just feel stronger and more confident. I feel like the whole world is open to me, like I have so many options, and it's exciting. So cheesy, right? I know. But I can't help it. And besides, it is, I do, and it is. I must also make note of exactly how privileged I am to be able to say that and feel that way. I am one of relatively few people on this planet facing as few barriers as I do as a white twentysomething female living in a country like Canada.
So. Here goes a new month. Bring it on.
In honour of this momentous occasion, Mel, Peter and I are having a cupboard party tonight. Due to our paranoia as a result of ongoing pest (i.e. cockroach) issues - adding to which, I have discovered, we also have mice - we haven't actually put anything away in our kitchen cupboards. I think I can accurately speak for all three of us when I say that it drives us all nuts, but as long as the cupboards have been empty (after, of course, the first couple of pesticide treatments), we haven't seen any roaches in them. As soon as anything is placed in them, the little (insert profanity)s have shown up within hours. But it's been a couple of weeks now since our kitchen was treated a third time, and I think we're ready to give it another shot. It's time to move in. So I'm going to pick up some wine and we're going to stock the cupboards. Fitting, no?
It feels rather surreal to think that I've been here a month now. In a sense it's flown by. After all, a month is not exactly a huge, significant amount of time. Although I feel much more comfortable getting around and using the transit system here, I still really don't know this massive city all that well which will, of course, come in time. I do know how to take the subway to Queen Street, though, which is a marvelous street to stroll down. However, in other ways it feels like I've been here much longer than a month. I don't like being unemployed. It's boring. Sure, I'm filling my time job hunting (I will admit that that kind of went to the dogs last week though - I got rather lazy). But it's exhausting, and although I am receiving a comfortable income on EI I'm not exactly loaded and Toronto is expensive. I don't have a crazy social life. Have been looking into different volunteer opportunities and hope to get in somewhere soon. It'll help me network and fill my time and be fun.
The other contributing factor to my feeling as though I've been here so much longer is how much I miss my mother. Waah. I miss her terribly! I am aching for a big Mama Bear hug.
In any case, I'm still plugging along. I looked in the mirror yesterday and realized that I've lost weight - from all of the walking I'm doing I would imagine - and physically feel great, which boosts my emotional health too :) I also just feel stronger and more confident. I feel like the whole world is open to me, like I have so many options, and it's exciting. So cheesy, right? I know. But I can't help it. And besides, it is, I do, and it is. I must also make note of exactly how privileged I am to be able to say that and feel that way. I am one of relatively few people on this planet facing as few barriers as I do as a white twentysomething female living in a country like Canada.
So. Here goes a new month. Bring it on.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Small city girl meets big city world.
So, as many of you may be aware at this point (if I do in fact have (m)any readers), I have safely and soundly made it to Toronto.
I don't know if you know this, but this is a big city. I mean, really effin' big. Wow. I have never felt more like a small town girl in my life. As a matter of fact, I've never felt more like a small town prairie girl in my life; I never did receive the memo about how often one must walk down - and, as a result, up - hill in this city. Thighs of steel, here I come. Nor did I receive the memo about how much distance there is between any one major point and another. In my neighbourhood, The Junction (West Toronto), we are fortunate enough to have all essential amenities within a 10-20 minute walk away. Grocery store (No Frills, the best/cheapest grocery store in the world - puts Price Choppers to shame), some big box stores like Home Depot, Future Shop, etc., little coffee shops all over, a really cute little pub called Aquila about a couple of blocks from home, an LCBO (Ontario's MLCC - yessss....) are all within reasonable walking distance. But downtown, for example, is definitely not within walking distance. Thankfully the transit in this city is phenomenal. Subway (FAST holy smokes), bus, street car, train; it's all here and super convenient. Colour me impressed.
I haven't quite made it downtown yet, but most of what I've seen thus far looks like something crossed between Osborne and The Exchange, with at least two tiny little privately owned variety stores per block (that's a Toronto block, not a Winnipeg block). Eclectic. Fun. Tons of great vintage shops. One we went to last week has a room in the back where you buy things by the pound. The skies have parted.
My street, Indian Road Crescent, is absolutely beautiful. Wolseley-esque. Long street with all kinds of big beautiful trees all the way down. I've found a Youth Employment Services centre just around the corner from where my street meets up with Bloor Street West, about a 15 minute walk away, where I have free and unlimited access to Internet, fax, phone, photocopier, career workshops, and career counselors. I've come to browse and apply for jobs for a good 3-4 hours the past three days in a row. But this walk has taken me about 25 minutes each time; it's gorgeous. The trees are turning all kinds of hues of yellow and orange among the still-green of the rest that haven't started to turn yet; and the splashes of the neon-orange-reddish colour of the sugar maples that burst out here and there down the street takes my breath away. I've just taken my time walking to and from home and have been mindful of the taken-for-grantedness of living surrounded by trees and birds. I love this neighbourhood already.
Although it's been less than two weeks, I somehow feel like I've made a very good decision coming here. It just feels right, like my life is catching up with my mind. I will always love Winnipeg in all of its diversity and for all of its somewhat tucked-away little gems (Mondragon, Cousins, the antiques mall in the Johnston Terminal and the antiques warehouse on Princess, Aqua Books); my fondness for my hometown seems already to increase for me every time I think of taking a new trip somewhere in the city by myself... but what I'm beginning to understand is just how much more opportunity there is for me here than in Winnipeg. I applied for a job with the Stephen Lewis Foundation in downtown Toronto two days ago for goodness' sake. Brilliant.
What is beginning to circle the outskirts of my mind, however, is whether I am actually meant to return to West/Central Africa at this point in my life. I yearn every day to be back in Maluku working with ALFEMADEC, or at Pascal's CPLB (http://meganalardcongo.blogspot.com/2009/05/partie-ii-de-ii-relations-construites.html) assisting with mediation training. I would rather be there than anywhere. But what I mean is that perhaps it has been so logistically difficult for me to return is that I don't belong there right now. Perhaps I am meant for something else. The strangest thing about this thought is that I'm not quite sure that I really believe in fate, or destiny, or that the stars align for each of us. On the other hand, I've never felt more like I was meant to do anything or be anywhere than when I was in Kinshasa. So maybe I'm here for a reason. And if I am, I am bound and determined to figure it the hell out.
Got myself lost AND found myself (for the first of what is sure to be many times) within about an hour and a half a couple of days ago. Wildly amusing. My adventure has begun. Did I mention that Toronto is really effin' big?
I don't know if you know this, but this is a big city. I mean, really effin' big. Wow. I have never felt more like a small town girl in my life. As a matter of fact, I've never felt more like a small town prairie girl in my life; I never did receive the memo about how often one must walk down - and, as a result, up - hill in this city. Thighs of steel, here I come. Nor did I receive the memo about how much distance there is between any one major point and another. In my neighbourhood, The Junction (West Toronto), we are fortunate enough to have all essential amenities within a 10-20 minute walk away. Grocery store (No Frills, the best/cheapest grocery store in the world - puts Price Choppers to shame), some big box stores like Home Depot, Future Shop, etc., little coffee shops all over, a really cute little pub called Aquila about a couple of blocks from home, an LCBO (Ontario's MLCC - yessss....) are all within reasonable walking distance. But downtown, for example, is definitely not within walking distance. Thankfully the transit in this city is phenomenal. Subway (FAST holy smokes), bus, street car, train; it's all here and super convenient. Colour me impressed.
I haven't quite made it downtown yet, but most of what I've seen thus far looks like something crossed between Osborne and The Exchange, with at least two tiny little privately owned variety stores per block (that's a Toronto block, not a Winnipeg block). Eclectic. Fun. Tons of great vintage shops. One we went to last week has a room in the back where you buy things by the pound. The skies have parted.
My street, Indian Road Crescent, is absolutely beautiful. Wolseley-esque. Long street with all kinds of big beautiful trees all the way down. I've found a Youth Employment Services centre just around the corner from where my street meets up with Bloor Street West, about a 15 minute walk away, where I have free and unlimited access to Internet, fax, phone, photocopier, career workshops, and career counselors. I've come to browse and apply for jobs for a good 3-4 hours the past three days in a row. But this walk has taken me about 25 minutes each time; it's gorgeous. The trees are turning all kinds of hues of yellow and orange among the still-green of the rest that haven't started to turn yet; and the splashes of the neon-orange-reddish colour of the sugar maples that burst out here and there down the street takes my breath away. I've just taken my time walking to and from home and have been mindful of the taken-for-grantedness of living surrounded by trees and birds. I love this neighbourhood already.
Although it's been less than two weeks, I somehow feel like I've made a very good decision coming here. It just feels right, like my life is catching up with my mind. I will always love Winnipeg in all of its diversity and for all of its somewhat tucked-away little gems (Mondragon, Cousins, the antiques mall in the Johnston Terminal and the antiques warehouse on Princess, Aqua Books); my fondness for my hometown seems already to increase for me every time I think of taking a new trip somewhere in the city by myself... but what I'm beginning to understand is just how much more opportunity there is for me here than in Winnipeg. I applied for a job with the Stephen Lewis Foundation in downtown Toronto two days ago for goodness' sake. Brilliant.
What is beginning to circle the outskirts of my mind, however, is whether I am actually meant to return to West/Central Africa at this point in my life. I yearn every day to be back in Maluku working with ALFEMADEC, or at Pascal's CPLB (http://meganalardcongo.blogspot.com/2009/05/partie-ii-de-ii-relations-construites.html) assisting with mediation training. I would rather be there than anywhere. But what I mean is that perhaps it has been so logistically difficult for me to return is that I don't belong there right now. Perhaps I am meant for something else. The strangest thing about this thought is that I'm not quite sure that I really believe in fate, or destiny, or that the stars align for each of us. On the other hand, I've never felt more like I was meant to do anything or be anywhere than when I was in Kinshasa. So maybe I'm here for a reason. And if I am, I am bound and determined to figure it the hell out.
Got myself lost AND found myself (for the first of what is sure to be many times) within about an hour and a half a couple of days ago. Wildly amusing. My adventure has begun. Did I mention that Toronto is really effin' big?
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Someone's cut the brakes.
I only have seventeen days to go. Moving anxiety has descended. I am experiencing the worst breakout in the history of acne at the moment. Naturally, stress is the active ingredient in the chaos that is my face right now. And naturally, this is stressing me the eff out. What a vicious cycle.
The anxiety is not in any way about the actual move. It's about how the hell I'm going to get rid of all of my shit in seventeen days. Clothes, linens, etc. for donation are sorted and need to be picked up. I really thought that that was going to be one of the biggest challenges so I tackled that part first. Hah. I'm funny. As in stupid. Books, furniture, kitchen stuff, crafting/jewellery supplies, jewellery itself, all kinds of stupid accessories, pictures, wall hangings... WHERE DID ALL OF THIS SHIT COME FROM??? DIDN'T I JUST MOVE SIX MONTHS AGO??? Ugh. Every time I look around the disorganization station that is my living space I develop temporary narcolepsy. And then I find an excuse to go out and not deal with it.
One major accomplishment: I'm down to just 34 pairs of shoes. This is unheard of. The most ironic thing about the shoe situation is that the pair of shoes that started it all (still among my top five favourite pairs of shoes) is my very first pair of black pumps. I bought them the one night that I've been to Toronto. Hah.
Anyhow, the bigger issue for me right now is that I still haven't found a home for Minou. I'm really worried. The Humane Society is not an option. I've got her on waiting lists for all of the no-kill shelters in the city who would take her, but this will take months and I don't have anyone to hold on to her until such a time as a spot opens up for her in a shelter. The past three mornings in a row I've stayed in bed and snuggled with her for almost an hour. THIS SUCKS. I can't think of anything that better articulates the way I'm feeling than that. I really don't think I ever want to own another pet. This is so hard. After the heartache of having to put Midnight, a cat I had had for nearly 21 years, down this past May, and now not being able to keep Minou any longer, I'm feeling a tad emotionally drained in the pet department.
So much to do. This is feeling incredibly surreal. I really am leaving Winnipeg. FINALLY. I've been wanting to get out for what seems like such a long time but I suppose that things like this never really do feel or unfold the way we imagine they might.
I remembered today that I blogged seventeen days before I left Congo. Pulled up the post and read it over. I was in such a tumultuous emotional state at that point. I think I was downplaying exactly how little I wanted to return to Canada. But interestingly enough, I do make reference to the fact that nothing ever happens in Winnipeg in this post. Consider the context in which I'm making this statement: I have just spent two and a half months in a country that may as well be located in another universe in terms of how similar it is to my home country. I have had my life touched by the deepest desparity and the brightest hope I have (n)ever even fathomed existed in this world. A country that's been in a perpetual state of unrest and war for 15 years at this point, since the Rwandan genocide. So at that particular moment in my life, Winnipeg was a place where nothing ever happened. What's changed for me though is that I've grown quite fond of Winnipeg over the past year. It's a really neat little city. I've taken to carrying my camera around with me everywhere and taking pictures of my favourite places. (I'm going to have to get down to the 7/16 at Sargent and Spence over the next few days. LMAO.)
So I'm heading off into the great unknown in just seventeen days. Good grief that happened fast.
The anxiety is not in any way about the actual move. It's about how the hell I'm going to get rid of all of my shit in seventeen days. Clothes, linens, etc. for donation are sorted and need to be picked up. I really thought that that was going to be one of the biggest challenges so I tackled that part first. Hah. I'm funny. As in stupid. Books, furniture, kitchen stuff, crafting/jewellery supplies, jewellery itself, all kinds of stupid accessories, pictures, wall hangings... WHERE DID ALL OF THIS SHIT COME FROM??? DIDN'T I JUST MOVE SIX MONTHS AGO??? Ugh. Every time I look around the disorganization station that is my living space I develop temporary narcolepsy. And then I find an excuse to go out and not deal with it.
One major accomplishment: I'm down to just 34 pairs of shoes. This is unheard of. The most ironic thing about the shoe situation is that the pair of shoes that started it all (still among my top five favourite pairs of shoes) is my very first pair of black pumps. I bought them the one night that I've been to Toronto. Hah.
Anyhow, the bigger issue for me right now is that I still haven't found a home for Minou. I'm really worried. The Humane Society is not an option. I've got her on waiting lists for all of the no-kill shelters in the city who would take her, but this will take months and I don't have anyone to hold on to her until such a time as a spot opens up for her in a shelter. The past three mornings in a row I've stayed in bed and snuggled with her for almost an hour. THIS SUCKS. I can't think of anything that better articulates the way I'm feeling than that. I really don't think I ever want to own another pet. This is so hard. After the heartache of having to put Midnight, a cat I had had for nearly 21 years, down this past May, and now not being able to keep Minou any longer, I'm feeling a tad emotionally drained in the pet department.
So much to do. This is feeling incredibly surreal. I really am leaving Winnipeg. FINALLY. I've been wanting to get out for what seems like such a long time but I suppose that things like this never really do feel or unfold the way we imagine they might.
I remembered today that I blogged seventeen days before I left Congo. Pulled up the post and read it over. I was in such a tumultuous emotional state at that point. I think I was downplaying exactly how little I wanted to return to Canada. But interestingly enough, I do make reference to the fact that nothing ever happens in Winnipeg in this post. Consider the context in which I'm making this statement: I have just spent two and a half months in a country that may as well be located in another universe in terms of how similar it is to my home country. I have had my life touched by the deepest desparity and the brightest hope I have (n)ever even fathomed existed in this world. A country that's been in a perpetual state of unrest and war for 15 years at this point, since the Rwandan genocide. So at that particular moment in my life, Winnipeg was a place where nothing ever happened. What's changed for me though is that I've grown quite fond of Winnipeg over the past year. It's a really neat little city. I've taken to carrying my camera around with me everywhere and taking pictures of my favourite places. (I'm going to have to get down to the 7/16 at Sargent and Spence over the next few days. LMAO.)
So I'm heading off into the great unknown in just seventeen days. Good grief that happened fast.
Friday, September 9, 2011
FUNemployment, here I come.
Today is my last day of work. Can anyone say yahoo?
Sigh. I am so relieved to be leaving this place and closing this chapter. I may be embarking on another uphill battle, but at least this one is over. I'm not really sure at this point whether I won, or 'they' did... or whether we both did... or both lost... or whether, metaphorically speaking, of course, these are win-lose circumstances at all. I suppose that being here has been more of an internal struggle than a battle, but I can vividly recall numerous times when I felt as though I was fighting my superiors and the institution itself. En tous cas, after seven years, I have just never found my niche here. It's time to move forward, and forward I move.
22 days from now I will be in Toronto. Like, whoa (Black Rob, anyone?). The suspense is killing me.
Sigh. I am so relieved to be leaving this place and closing this chapter. I may be embarking on another uphill battle, but at least this one is over. I'm not really sure at this point whether I won, or 'they' did... or whether we both did... or both lost... or whether, metaphorically speaking, of course, these are win-lose circumstances at all. I suppose that being here has been more of an internal struggle than a battle, but I can vividly recall numerous times when I felt as though I was fighting my superiors and the institution itself. En tous cas, after seven years, I have just never found my niche here. It's time to move forward, and forward I move.
22 days from now I will be in Toronto. Like, whoa (Black Rob, anyone?). The suspense is killing me.
Friday, September 2, 2011
The countdown officially begins...
...yesterday, September 1. So today marks 29 days until I'm outta here. I wish October 1 would just hurry up and present itself.
I haven't made much progress on my to do list, but have been keeping up with the self-reflection portion of this big change. I want to follow up on my last post.
I had written last about beginning to feel rather indifferent to the goings on in my office. I'd like to revise that statement a little. I tend to take everything I do at work seriously, even though I'm just a bottom-of-the-barrel admin. But I work in the public sector; not only is my salary paid by tax dollars, but I'm also responsible for the expenditure of public dollars. I think that it's these ethical implications of my job that really do me in sometimes. I tend to get really caught up in politics. That and I can't STAND the bureaucratic process - it is so counterproductive that it makes me nauseous sometimes. In any case, all of that mixed up with being treated unfairly by people with more power than I have, and dealing with the internal politics of working an environment which places less value on diversity than I feel it should, has really built up a sour taste in my mouth over the course of my little career in public service.
BUT. And it's a big one.
First of all, I won't deny that working in public service has been good to me, too. For one thing, the student employment mechanisms in place put me through university and helped me afford to get my tuition paid, work only part time for most of it with a full-time job every summer, and develop some really important job skills that not everyone has the opportunity to develop while they're still in university. I feel like I did have a leg up when I graduated. I'm a huge advocate of student employment in the public service and think that there are really great programs available. I'm just not suited to work in public service.
More importantly, however, this change is such a good thing for me. In only a month, I feel like I've already moved into a much healthier place physically, spiritually, and emotionally. I've lost a bit of weight (due, in truth, to stress, but it feels good nonetheless). I've been meditating lately on integrity, and on trying to be more gracious to those around me during my last few weeks both at work and in Manitoba. And I'm happy. Genuinely, just generally happy. Excited to learn. I want to feel this way in every little division of my life; I don't want to leave a place I've worked for four years with feelings of resentment or anger. So I'm just not going to give all of these things that frustrate or bother me any more of my energy. Goodness knows I need it. I'm moving forward feeling as though I'm finishing off one chapter and starting another (cliché! I'm full of them right now), not walking away in anger.
It's all happening.
I haven't made much progress on my to do list, but have been keeping up with the self-reflection portion of this big change. I want to follow up on my last post.
I had written last about beginning to feel rather indifferent to the goings on in my office. I'd like to revise that statement a little. I tend to take everything I do at work seriously, even though I'm just a bottom-of-the-barrel admin. But I work in the public sector; not only is my salary paid by tax dollars, but I'm also responsible for the expenditure of public dollars. I think that it's these ethical implications of my job that really do me in sometimes. I tend to get really caught up in politics. That and I can't STAND the bureaucratic process - it is so counterproductive that it makes me nauseous sometimes. In any case, all of that mixed up with being treated unfairly by people with more power than I have, and dealing with the internal politics of working an environment which places less value on diversity than I feel it should, has really built up a sour taste in my mouth over the course of my little career in public service.
BUT. And it's a big one.
First of all, I won't deny that working in public service has been good to me, too. For one thing, the student employment mechanisms in place put me through university and helped me afford to get my tuition paid, work only part time for most of it with a full-time job every summer, and develop some really important job skills that not everyone has the opportunity to develop while they're still in university. I feel like I did have a leg up when I graduated. I'm a huge advocate of student employment in the public service and think that there are really great programs available. I'm just not suited to work in public service.
More importantly, however, this change is such a good thing for me. In only a month, I feel like I've already moved into a much healthier place physically, spiritually, and emotionally. I've lost a bit of weight (due, in truth, to stress, but it feels good nonetheless). I've been meditating lately on integrity, and on trying to be more gracious to those around me during my last few weeks both at work and in Manitoba. And I'm happy. Genuinely, just generally happy. Excited to learn. I want to feel this way in every little division of my life; I don't want to leave a place I've worked for four years with feelings of resentment or anger. So I'm just not going to give all of these things that frustrate or bother me any more of my energy. Goodness knows I need it. I'm moving forward feeling as though I'm finishing off one chapter and starting another (cliché! I'm full of them right now), not walking away in anger.
It's all happening.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Maintaining momentum
I booked my flight yesterday. One-way to Toronto at 5:30 AM on Saturday October 1. It's all happening.
I have 11 days of work left, and am now down to 35 days left in Manitoba. Holy smokes, folks. I'm so stoked! All sorts of things are beginning to appear in varying degrees of changing perspectives. What I've been dealing with at work, for example: we have these (meaningless waste-of-time) stand-up meetings every morning to discuss what we've all got going in terms of workload. Where these meetings used to frustrate the hell out of my colleague and I for ten minutes every morning - and involved all manner of quick eye-rolling glance-exchanges - we had our stand-up this morning and I felt entirely unaffected by the end of it. Indifferent, I suppose, would be more accurate. It's not that I've decided to stop doing any actual work, or slack off until the end of my days here or anything. I have voluntarily undertaken the task of writing a standard operating procedures document for future use of all admins who may come to be employed in this office, as well as for my colleague who is still relatively new here. This was entirely my idea, one last thing I can contribute to this place, as the transfer of most administrative business knowledge lies with me, and if I didn't take the time to do this they might end up dealing with some significant gaps in my absence. As I believe I have mentioned, I'd like to leave here with a smidgeon of integrity still intact. But the series of events that have occurred in my life over the past month have helped me step back and take in the bigger picture; what is and is not of consequence to me in the grand scheme. Stand-up meetings about ensuring that the financial reports in this office are being reviewed just don't fit into that grand scheme anymore. Insert sigh of contentment/relief here. And I suppose that this is really more about the fact that, now that I've had some time to digest my situation, the negative opinions of me that certain people hold and have expressed in varying degrees of passive aggression, seem to matter less every day. I may still be the pink elephant in the room, but I just don't care anymore. Great feeling.
Onwards and upwards. In order to maintain this momentum I've developed I need to make a list of things that I have to accomplish before I go. I did this just before I left for Congo and it helped. If it ain't broke...
1. Choose the clothes I'm taking with me. This will be a major undertaking. I've decided that I am only bringing one suitcase full of clothing. I also happen to own so many garments that I could clothe all of the inhabitants of... oh, let's say Portage la Prairie. Everything I don't bring is being donated to the Main Street Project. Should be a van-full at least.
2. Go through the rest of my belongings and decide what else I'm bringing with me.
3. Donate, store, or sell the rest.
4. Decide what I'm going to try to sell, what I'm going to sell it for (nothing I own is really worth more than about $50), and where I'm going to advertise it (likely Kijiji).
5. FIND A NEW HOME FOR MY DARLING MINOU. If anyone knows a place that would be good for a cat matching this description: http://winnipeg.kijiji.ca/c-pets-to-give-or-donate-Gorgeous-5-year-old-female-cat-looking-for-indoor-outdoor-home-W0QQAdIdZ306268146 please let me know.
6. Find a place to store what I can't bring but want to keep. There won't be much in this category, but I'd like to keep the kitchen ware I don't bring, and my antique dresser, and a few boxes of books... I have family out of town who have offered me some storage space, but no truck to haul it out with...
7. Get my EI application in as soon as humanly possible after my last day of work.
8. Give Canada Post my forwarding address.
These all seem like much more important issues to deal with. It's all I've got for now, but I'm sure the list will lengthen.
It's all happening.
I have 11 days of work left, and am now down to 35 days left in Manitoba. Holy smokes, folks. I'm so stoked! All sorts of things are beginning to appear in varying degrees of changing perspectives. What I've been dealing with at work, for example: we have these (meaningless waste-of-time) stand-up meetings every morning to discuss what we've all got going in terms of workload. Where these meetings used to frustrate the hell out of my colleague and I for ten minutes every morning - and involved all manner of quick eye-rolling glance-exchanges - we had our stand-up this morning and I felt entirely unaffected by the end of it. Indifferent, I suppose, would be more accurate. It's not that I've decided to stop doing any actual work, or slack off until the end of my days here or anything. I have voluntarily undertaken the task of writing a standard operating procedures document for future use of all admins who may come to be employed in this office, as well as for my colleague who is still relatively new here. This was entirely my idea, one last thing I can contribute to this place, as the transfer of most administrative business knowledge lies with me, and if I didn't take the time to do this they might end up dealing with some significant gaps in my absence. As I believe I have mentioned, I'd like to leave here with a smidgeon of integrity still intact. But the series of events that have occurred in my life over the past month have helped me step back and take in the bigger picture; what is and is not of consequence to me in the grand scheme. Stand-up meetings about ensuring that the financial reports in this office are being reviewed just don't fit into that grand scheme anymore. Insert sigh of contentment/relief here. And I suppose that this is really more about the fact that, now that I've had some time to digest my situation, the negative opinions of me that certain people hold and have expressed in varying degrees of passive aggression, seem to matter less every day. I may still be the pink elephant in the room, but I just don't care anymore. Great feeling.
Onwards and upwards. In order to maintain this momentum I've developed I need to make a list of things that I have to accomplish before I go. I did this just before I left for Congo and it helped. If it ain't broke...
1. Choose the clothes I'm taking with me. This will be a major undertaking. I've decided that I am only bringing one suitcase full of clothing. I also happen to own so many garments that I could clothe all of the inhabitants of... oh, let's say Portage la Prairie. Everything I don't bring is being donated to the Main Street Project. Should be a van-full at least.
2. Go through the rest of my belongings and decide what else I'm bringing with me.
3. Donate, store, or sell the rest.
4. Decide what I'm going to try to sell, what I'm going to sell it for (nothing I own is really worth more than about $50), and where I'm going to advertise it (likely Kijiji).
5. FIND A NEW HOME FOR MY DARLING MINOU. If anyone knows a place that would be good for a cat matching this description: http://winnipeg.kijiji.ca/c-pets-to-give-or-donate-Gorgeous-5-year-old-female-cat-looking-for-indoor-outdoor-home-W0QQAdIdZ306268146 please let me know.
6. Find a place to store what I can't bring but want to keep. There won't be much in this category, but I'd like to keep the kitchen ware I don't bring, and my antique dresser, and a few boxes of books... I have family out of town who have offered me some storage space, but no truck to haul it out with...
7. Get my EI application in as soon as humanly possible after my last day of work.
8. Give Canada Post my forwarding address.
These all seem like much more important issues to deal with. It's all I've got for now, but I'm sure the list will lengthen.
It's all happening.
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