voyageur

They dance, jump about, play the fool. Mieke Bal

Interlibrary Loan--The Old-Fashioned Way

Remembrance Day

It is a windy November day, still slightly too warm but with a cold grey sky. Dirty ridges of leafs on the lawns slowly fade out of sight. The wind rustles through the pale yellow birches and the rain drums a steady rhythm on the brown roof shingles. It is Remembrance Day. CBC’s early morning Remembrance Day special is interrupted by news on Layton, the Kingmaker, Montgomery, and the low pressure zone above Prince Rupert. “Make sure you pack an umbrella on your way to the commemorations.” while outside darkness creeps up and next door’s building slowly fades out of sight.

This country doesn’t celebrate Remembrance Day until the Sunday after November 11th. And I doubt that most people in my multicultural neighbourhood even know about the “People’s Mourning Day.” November 11th marks the beginning of the "fifth season" in most middle and southern German towns–the beginning of Carnival. They gather at 11.11 am to toast each other and celebrate a tradition that will culminate in three days of carnivalsque public orgies in mid-February.

But up here in the North no one seems to remember the custom that marked November 11th in my younger days: Matten Meeren. St. Martin’s Day used to be the day on which kids would go trick a treatin’ with the difference that they would sing and politely ask for candy. It commemorated good St. Martin who rode through the snow and shared his only possession—a red overcoat—with a beggar who was freezing to death. But this custom seems to fade away in a multicultural neighbourhood with economic worries. And maybe in a globalized shopping-inspired world going around and asking is also unpopular by now. Last year in our neighbourhood less than a handful of kids came around to ask for candy on Halloween.

Last year’s Remembrance Day was spent on Salt Spring. It must have been my first weekend on Salt Spring and I clearly recall the misty morning when we packed the boxes produced by the Anglican women’s knitting sweat shops, the pub in Gangees and the promised turkey dinner. And Alice asking John: “Does Christian require his own bed?”

I am spending this years’ Remembrance Day working on my writers; on the ones who critically wrote and performed against the First World War. Francis Marion Beynon’s novel Aleta Day tells the story of a young pacifistic journalist who falls in love with a Tory who enrols for King and Country. It tells a story about the loss of love, faith and the repressions a person has to suffer from for her socialist beliefs. I will top it with the Canada: A People’s History show on the First World War. John McCrae--here I come. And as much as I despise the poppy mania and the nationalistic ideology it has been used for, the lack of knowing and commemorating conjures a similar frustration.

The windows on the other side of the street are lit and I spot the first fully decorated window with fake snow, icicle lights and paper ornaments. Christmas is the time of year people look forward to. And no doubt, it is more cheerful than those November days: All Souls (the catholic one), Remembrance, Sunday of the Dead (the protestant one). A proper German neighbourhood would frown at the display of colourful lights and ornaments two weeks too early. But it brightens up the darkness in which I sit torn between my review writing and the Friday edition of The Current.

Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me.

Just for the pic *snicker*

Gabriel. You're most like the ArchAngel of
Communication, in charge of things like
telephones, libraries, internet, and the 411
phone menu. You're organised and are not shy
about inflicting that organisation on others.


Which ArchAngel are you most like?
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