I moved from a small town in New Brunswick here to Toronto back in 1990. One of the first things I noticed about Toronto was all the Chinese people. (There were few Chinese back in my hometown.) When I travelled on the subway it was such an amazing experience that I couldn't imagine how anyone could read on the subway. But within a month I was doing it too.
I'd changed residences before. My father was a university professor and every seven years or so he'd get a sabbatical and we'd move elsewhere for a year. When I was four, we lived in Brighton, England; thirteen, Mississauga; twenty, England then Toronto; twenty-seven, Glasgow, Scotland. I remember the strange feeling I'd always get when we returned home and I recognized the house's smell, which lingered for a few days.
I also spent eight months in London, England, when I was thirty-three, researching my Ph.D. thesis and staying at Goodenough College in Bloomsbury. It was the best eight months of my life!
I still miss the expanses of the country somewhat. Back in New Brunswick we had a big garden next to the back yard where we grew peas, potatoes, corn and some other stuff. Here in Toronto we have a garden, but it's a lot smaller and the shade from the house and a nearby tree limits how much you can grow. These days I'm just growing potatoes there.
No comments:
Post a Comment