Column: Company over Christmas in Yellowknife
We were worried; well, sort of worried. Sometime after returning from China at the end of September, Kate and I decided to spend Christmas in Yellowknife.
The background: Most people who emigrate here, do so to work, not live. By this I mean they collect a pay cheque, then hop on the first plane out of here during the Christmas holidays and vacation. Many teachers in small Nunavut commmunities are the worst; returning to their province of origin for the full two-month summer break and not returning until they absolutely have to.
While Yellowknife does have a large number of longtime residents (often children of miners or wayback government bureaucrats) who have genuine ties here, by and large most southerners flee like rats out an open sewer grate when the holidays roll around.
Would we end up sitting around by ourselves, in the darkness, wondering why we didn't join the exodus?
But during the first couple of weeks of December - just like anywhere else in Canada - people began asking what we were doing for the holidays. Within days, a friend of mine had asked us over for dinner and one of Kate's co-workers had invited us to a feast on Christmas Day after we dropped by an open house for smoked salmon appetizers and homemade gingerbread. As of today, Boxing Day, we have a nearly full calendar for the week ahead.
When you think about it, Yellowknife is full of people who have chosen to abandon their families, in one way or another. And so it makes sense that here friends would become family, something I've always advocated anyway.
The more I move and the more I meet people, the more my friends become family. My immediate family is reasonably close, and I believe we always will be. But with only so much time to spend, I support spending it with those we feel closest to; not necessarily those we are connected to by birth.
Maybe my thinking is that of the 20-something Canadian generation; one of the most-highly educated and rootless of all time. We can apply for jobs in India online; or move to British Columbia because we think the lifestyle would suit us. With highspeed internet connections, and CNN on every continent, we can live virtually anywhere without ever having to adjust to a new culture. As a father of a friend of mine says, "having too many choices can be just as bad as not having enough."
Then again, maybe I'm off topic. The point is that this Christmas, I began to see this city of almost 20,000 people as more than a group of wandering minstrels passing time until the next job posting down south. There is a community here, you just have to put yourself in position to see it.
Zai jian
The background: Most people who emigrate here, do so to work, not live. By this I mean they collect a pay cheque, then hop on the first plane out of here during the Christmas holidays and vacation. Many teachers in small Nunavut commmunities are the worst; returning to their province of origin for the full two-month summer break and not returning until they absolutely have to.
While Yellowknife does have a large number of longtime residents (often children of miners or wayback government bureaucrats) who have genuine ties here, by and large most southerners flee like rats out an open sewer grate when the holidays roll around.
Would we end up sitting around by ourselves, in the darkness, wondering why we didn't join the exodus?
But during the first couple of weeks of December - just like anywhere else in Canada - people began asking what we were doing for the holidays. Within days, a friend of mine had asked us over for dinner and one of Kate's co-workers had invited us to a feast on Christmas Day after we dropped by an open house for smoked salmon appetizers and homemade gingerbread. As of today, Boxing Day, we have a nearly full calendar for the week ahead.
When you think about it, Yellowknife is full of people who have chosen to abandon their families, in one way or another. And so it makes sense that here friends would become family, something I've always advocated anyway.
The more I move and the more I meet people, the more my friends become family. My immediate family is reasonably close, and I believe we always will be. But with only so much time to spend, I support spending it with those we feel closest to; not necessarily those we are connected to by birth.
Maybe my thinking is that of the 20-something Canadian generation; one of the most-highly educated and rootless of all time. We can apply for jobs in India online; or move to British Columbia because we think the lifestyle would suit us. With highspeed internet connections, and CNN on every continent, we can live virtually anywhere without ever having to adjust to a new culture. As a father of a friend of mine says, "having too many choices can be just as bad as not having enough."
Then again, maybe I'm off topic. The point is that this Christmas, I began to see this city of almost 20,000 people as more than a group of wandering minstrels passing time until the next job posting down south. There is a community here, you just have to put yourself in position to see it.
Zai jian
posted by Brent Reaney at 8:07 PM
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