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Photo by Ged Carroll on Flickr…”I’ve got a great idea.”

At the fag end of January 2013 I wrote – in my second ever post on this blog:

“About this time last year Kickass Canada Girl and I came up with a plan. It was a good plan. In fact, we were so impressed with it that we thought it might be The plan!”

That post was entitled “…gang aft a-gley” – a reference, of course, to the immortal Rabbie Burns’s poem “To a Mouse, on Turning Her Up in Her Nest with the Plough”. For those – should there conceivably be such – not acquainted with that timeless ode,  the verse in question runs thus:

“But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!

I wound up my post with the observation:

“I’m sure you know the Woody Allen quip: ‘If you want to make god laugh, tell him about your plans’…”

At the time of writing I was – naturally – merely referring to our initial unforseen departure from the script – which arose both from our unexpected inability to sell our Buckinghamshire apartment and, thereafter, from the Kickass Canada Girl’s accelerated appointment to her much anticipated post in Victoria – considerably in advance of the migration date that we had originally intended. As it turned out my sentiments on that occasion proved prescient – and then some! I could have re-used the title for any number of subsequent posts as the edifice that was our beautiful strategy was systematically reduced to rubble – stone by stone. No mere chuckles for this god – he/she was definitely rolling on the floor laughing his/her a*se off!

Soooooo! You would doubtless expect us to have learned from our experiences? Ho, ho! Not us! We are such stuff as… should you slam the door in our faces, when you open it again we will still be standing there – smiling at you…

Yes – we thought that it was time once again to formulate a plan. This time – however – we are going to be a little more devious – to see if we can’t outwit the gods. Foolish we may be – but you have to give us marks for perseverance.

Here’s how it goes:

  • We have set a window. At the near end of the scale I retire at the end of the academic year in 2015 and we move to BC in the summer of that same year.
  • At the far end of the scale we aim to move to Victoria in May 2016. Under this strategy I would probably retire at Christmas 2015 – but could stay on until Easter 2016 if it were to appear advantageous so to do.
  • Either way we will look to re-market the apartment within the next 6 months – probably next spring. The housing market seems to have picked up considerably and – mindful of the UK government’s latest scheme to guarantee mortgage deposits as a way to encourage another housing bubble – it would be madness not to jump aboard the bandwagon (mixing metaphors furiously as we go) with the aim of launching into the market at a relatively high point.

That is the plan, in any case – and as we all know by now…

The title for this post comes – as you are doubtless aware – from the celebrated final scene of that classic of UK 60s cinema – ‘The Italian Job’. Michael Caine announces his ‘great idea’ lying on the floor of a coach which is balanced teeteringly on the very edge of an Alpine precipice.

Let’s hope that is not an omen!

 

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Photo by Rob Masefield on Flickr…of Canada – I fear that I am somewhat tardy in offering my heartfelt congratulations to Rugby Canada for being the first national side – outside those that do so automatically – to qualify for the next Rugby World Cup, which takes place in England in 2015. That this was achieved by beating the USA must – I imagine – render the achievement all the more sweet!

Canada joins Pool C – which already comprises France, Ireland and Italy and to which one other qualifying nation – in this case from Europe – will be added. Canada have only once reached the knock-out stages of the competition – as long ago as 1991 – but these would seem to be exciting times for the development of the game across the water, so we have great hopes.

At the moment it seems probable that the Kickass Canada Girl and I will still be in the UK come the 2015 World Cup, and since all of the Scotland Pool games appear to be taking place at the far end of these sainted islands we will do our damndest to get to at least one of the Canada matches.

 

On the subject of Canadian rugby – the Girl and I are already contemplating to which of the Victorian clubs we should pledge our allegiance when we relocate to BC. Our requirements are:

  • an enthusiastic club with a good Corinthian spirit dedicated to running rugby.
  • a welcoming clubhouse with a decent selection of malts.
  • a friendly group of supporters.
  • good craic!

We would be very happy to receive your recommendations.

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Photo by KTSquareFor a blog that carries – as the tagline on its masthead – the apothegm “Coming to Canada” – this site has been of late remarkably free of any content actually relating to that fair country. Well – that’s about to change!

The Imperceptible Immigrant and the Kickass Canada Girl are proud to announce the details of their Winter 2013/14 Canadian Tour – featuring appearances in Vancouver (briefly!), Kamloops, Victoria, Nanaimo, Duncan (to be confirmed!) and Tofino (for the Big Birthday Bash!).

The intrepid duo will be bringing their particular brand of charm to the beautiful province of British Columbia from December 18th this year – determined not to leave until Christmas, the New Year and the Big Birthday itself have been well and truly celebrated. And if that means staying until the 6th January 2014 – then so be it!

The flights have been booked – the fan club alerted – the Girl has started planning her packing and the days, hours and minutes are being counted.

We can’t wait!

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Photo by Andy Dawson ReidToday is the last day of the year – in academic terms at least. At this time last year I was on the verge of flying off to Victoria (leaving for the airport straight from the School just as soon as the boys had departed) for what turned out to be my last (to date!) visit to BC.

Time to take stock…

 

A great deal has changed over the course of the year. My visit to Victoria last June/July was not to have been the only trip of the year. I was also expecting to join the Kickass Canada Girl and our lovely friends in Saanichton for Christmas – which would have been my first such in Canada and to which I was looking forward immensely. When I left BC in mid July I was thus expecting to be back before the year end and made my farewells accordingly. By the time I do visit next – this coming Christmas – eighteen months will have elapsed and many things will inevitably have changed. If nothing else, our beloved friends’ young boys will have grown (almost) beyond recognition.

The other significance of this particular day is that – had things gone to plan – this would have been my last day of term before retirement. Though I had intended to work until the end of July the serious business of education would have come to an end. Throughout these last two weeks I have been attending the farewell presentations and speeches to the Common Room of those who are moving on or retiring. I must admit to the odd twinge of envy for some of those who are hanging up their gowns and preparing for their post-School, post-work lives. It has not been easy adjourning this particular dream, though of course the presence by my side of the KACG makes up for pretty much everything. More than anything we are both eternally grateful that we no longer have to live on different continents.

The Girl herself is thriving. She loves her new job and now has the bit firmly between her teeth, already starting to build the role into something significant and substantial. She loves her rag-top roadster – in which we are intending to meander down to the Dorgdogne for a break in the sun (hopefully!) towards the end of July. She loves being able to go the the theatre and galleries in London – and she would be loving the bucolic English summer were we ever to get one!

All is good – all is good! Our lives are so blessed when compared with the travails of so many others in these uncertain times – and it is good for us to remember this.

These blessings we count daily!

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Photo by Andy Dawson ReidI was intrigued by this item in The Tyee on the recent re-naming of Mount Douglas as ‘PKOLS’. For non-Canadians ‘Mount Doug’ (as it is commonly known) is on the east side of the Saanich peninsular to the north of Victoria and was the site on which – in 1852 – the then governor of Vancouver Island – James Douglas – negotiated a treaty understood to be a promise to the WSÁNEĆ people that they would not be interfered with. PKOLS is held by the WSÁNEĆ nation to be the mountain’s original and true name.

As is seemingly inevitable in this enlightened day and age the article attracted the usual brief storm of comments expressing opinions both in favour of and against the unilateral action that had been taken. This comment in particular caused me to raise an eyebrow:

“History should be respected, whether liked or not, and not appropriated by every group with a new agenda.”

This by way of reference – not as I thought first to the colonial appropriation of a First Nations landmark – but rather to the recent reclamation thereof by the WSÁNEĆ nation. Unless – by chance – the comment was intended to be humorously ironic, then it truly missed the point in spectacular fashion.

All of which cultural imperialism puts me in mind of the Irish playwright, Brian Friel’s, masterpiece – ‘Translations’.

For those who have not seen (or indeed read) this splendid play, the context is that of the British Ordnance Survey of Ireland carried out during the 1830s – a process that involved mapping, renaming and anglicising Ireland, of which the British were at the time – of course – the occupiers. A good explanation of the historical context of the piece can be found here.

Friel claimed that – though the political was impossible to avoid completely – his subject was not the situation in Ireland per se, but that this was “a play about language and only about language”. His interests are in the nature of communication – and the difficulties thereof – between peoples and races.

The play has – at its centre – a quite startling conceit, of the sort that marks out a playwright as belonging to the highest echelons of his profession. The Irish villagers speak only Gaelic and do not understand English. The British Army officers conducting the survey have – naturally – no Gaelic. Neither side can understand the other. The entire cast – however – perform throughout in English! The audience must decide for themselves which language is being spoken at any point. This unexpected inversion only serves to highlight the cultural chasm between the two sides, an inability to communicate that has – almost inevitably – tragic consequences.

Friel’s piece rightly offers no easy answers. It does – however – offer insight into the effects of such cultural colonisation. Insistence on strict maintenance of a native language as a pure act of defiance runs the risk of that language ossifying and become inert. Should that happen the culture that is based upon it will die as surely as had the coloniser set out to destroy it. Language must live and evolve if the culture itself is not simply to become a museum piece – even should that require the assimilation of an alien tongue.

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Rattle“Drums and rattles are percussion instruments traditionally used by First Nations people. These musical instruments provide the background for songs, and songs are the background for dances. Many traditional First Nations people consider song and dance to be sacred. For many years after Europeans came to Canada, First Nations people were forbidden to practise their ceremonies. That is one reason why little information about First Nations music and musical instruments is available to us.”

Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development Canada website

Pursuant to my previous post describing my search for fresh Celtic fusion music it occurred to me that I should revisit an earlier – though less successful – quest to find something similar but based instead on Canadian First Nations’ music.

That such a fusion is relatively difficult to find doubtless has its roots in the policies implemented over a century and a half by the European settlers, the which were aimed at the cultural assimilation of the native peoples of what became Canada. Not only does this (as the ‘Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Canada‘ website makes clear) explain the paucity of knowledge and understanding of an art form that would have been handed down orally, but it also throws light on the way that those forms have been regarded since the revival of interest in the native arts over the last 50 years or so. An art form which enjoys uninterrupted pursuit and interest continues to evolve, to grow and – with good fortune – to flourish. Once the narrative is fractured perception of the art form changes from the present to the past tense and the interest therein becomes primarily historical – concerned with the preservation and nurture of its original or traditional forms. At this point the art form ceases to be a living entity – or is in grave danger of so doing.

The Kickass Canada Girl enquired as to the nature of my researches and – on being enlightened – pointed out briskly that I might have asked her first rather than wasting my time. She had a point. Not only is she a great music lover but she is also – on her mother’s side – part Aboriginal – her band originating in the North Thompson above Kamloops in central BC.

She extracted from her extensive CD collection a platter by Robbie Robertson and the Red Road Ensemble entitled ‘Music for the Native Americans’. Yes – that’s Robbie Robertson of The Band! I was not aware that Robbie – born in Montreal – was of Mohawk descent on his mother’s side – nor had I heard ‘Music for the Native Americans’. I like it a great deal and were you to check out these clips you might find that you do too:

It is a Good Day to Die

The Vanishing Breed

Coyote Dance

Grateful as I am for this discovery – however – I am still very keen to find other musical fusions from the Pacific Northwest. If Canadian – or other – readers know of such I would be grateful to hear of them.

 

It did occur to me to enquire of the Girl how is was that – after getting on towards a decade together – she had only just thought to introduce me to this wonderful music. I decided against! Something about maintaining the air of mystery I suppose…

 

 

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up-downThe colds from which the Kickass Canada Girl and I have of late been suffering are quite the most loathsome that I can recall. I am still struggling to shake off the residuum – in the shape of a vicious dry cough – nearly two and a half weeks after first succumbing to this pernicious pestilence. The Girl is following on roughly a week behind me and an entire month will thus have passed by the time that we have both fully shaken off this scourge.

Neither of us has felt throughout this period like doing anything much more than hunkering down and waiting for the storm to pass. This last weekend however – although it is still only mid-February and the mornings are yet frosty – there was a distinct intimation of the imminence of spring in the air. Closer attention to the world outside revealed that the first green shoots had started to poke their sleepy heads through the permafrost. Lambent spring colours may thus shortly bring relief to our saturnine winter gardens.

Once back in the land of the living it will be high time to make a point of getting together with old friends, some of whom we seem not to have seen for ages. I suppose that this negligence could be considered an ineluctable side effect of the customary brouhaha of Christmas and the dark days that follow, but that does rather feel like excusing the inexcusable.

The joyous sensation that the thought of such engagements engenders is – however – tinged at the same time with sadness… not at the prospect of rekindling old friendships, but on the recognition that other such occurrences will not be possible in the near future. Over the past few years the Girl and I have become rather accustomed to making frequent trips to British Columbia. In 2010 our wedding and the arrangements therefore prompted several trips to the province, including one extended visit for the event itself. 2011 – through a combination of circumstances both happy and sad – saw another brace of visits and, of course, once the Girl moved back to Victoria last spring I became – as regular readers will know – a regular myself on the transatlantic route.

All of which led us to becoming somewhat spoiled with regard to the access that we had to our dear and lovely friends in Victoria and Saanichton. One of the consequences of our recent decision regarding my 60th birthday celebration next January is that we will not now be able to revisit Canada until next Christmas. For me that will mean a gap of a year and a half – and more – without my setting foot in BC…

…and I miss the place – and I miss our friends…

Sniff!

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wickaninnish-inn-tofino-bc_0Herewith a splendid example of the ever-changing nature of our mortal existence which betrays as indolent even such a fluid and instantaneous medium as the InterWebNet.

Barely had I hit the ‘publish’ button on my previous post – thus rendering fixed some thoughts that had hitherto been merely nebulous –  than the Kickass Canada Girl and I – in an unexpectedly abrupt resolution to a previously extended deliberation – finally reached mutual agreement as to the nature and locale of my sixtieth birthday celebration. Yes – I know that it is the best part of a year ahead – but our online researches had revealed that if we did want to pass the occasion at the Wickaninnish Inn on Chesterman Beach then we had better get a booking in sharpish, before all of the decent rooms were taken.

And we decided that we did…

Much more on this later of course, but those whose interest is piqued can find details of the inn here – and if you want to know more about the immediate area itself I would direct you to Adrienne Mason’s splendid blog (and book!) here.

 

 

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It is 41 weeks since the Kickass Canada Girl moved to Victoria to take up the job there that we had hoped would see her through to retirement and me becoming a permanent resident of Canada. This weekend – in the brave new world in which we now find ourselves – she flies back into Heathrow to resume her life here in England, with our relocation to British Columbia postponed until some as yet unspecified date in the future.

Welcome back, Kickass Canada Girl!

This post is my one hundred and second since the Girl left for Victoria in early March and my one hundred and twenty first since I took up blogging towards the end of January this year. I suppose the obvious question in this regard is  – do I carry on blogging now that the balance of my life has swung away from immigration and towards imperceptibility?

It would be entirely understandable if regular readers were to curl their lips in disdain and demand to know – since the stated theme and purpose of this blog no longer exactly holds (at least in the short term) – why they should continue to waste their time on my picaresque meanderings. They would indeed have a point and I would not blame them for dropping out at this point.

However – as you may already have deduced from the tone of the above – my initial reaction is to carry on blogging regardless in the hope that some of what I write may still be of interest. The Girl and I have many connections in Canada and we will inevitably be visiting as time goes by, though our next trip will probably not now be until next summer. Hopefully my contributions on trans-Atlantic life will continue to resonate, creating perhaps something of a virtual connection between our communities of friends on both sides of the ocean.

Truth be told I have enjoyed blogging this year. The self-imposed discipline of having to produce posts on a regular basis was particularly beneficial whilst I was living on my own and will, I believe, continue to be so once the Girl and I are fully reunited. Writing virtually daily is terribly good practice and the need to polish the resultant prolix prose into concise, pithy and apposite nuggets is slowly imbuing in me a most useful skill in an area that has perhaps previously been somewhat neglected.

So – with your kind permission – I will carry on…

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It is pretty clear that the fallout from our recent and comprehensive change of plans will take a considerable time to assimilate. The repercussions will undoubtedly be extensive and at this point we can’t even begin to guess at the eventual outcome. One thing that is pretty certain already, however, is that I am now most unlikely to retire next summer as previously planned.

The Kickass Canada Girl and I still firmly intend to relocate to Canada, though this will now probably take place somewhat later than we had originally intended. I could consider retirement at any point – finances permitting – much as I have done already, but the Girl – being younger than I – will certainly have to work for a few more years yet. As it seems that jobs in BC in her field are likely to be hard to come by for the foreseeable future we will almost certainly be staying in the UK for the time being.

This in itself is no great hardship of course. We both love Britain as well as Canada and there are plenty of things that we still wish to do this side of the pond. In some ways the delay might actually makes things easier. We have not yet found a purchaser for the Buckinghamshire apartment – the market still being as flat as a flat thing – and it would have been considerably more difficult trying to sell the property from a different continent.

The emotional fallout is more difficult to deal with.

No-one likes to feel that they have not completed a job to their own satisfaction. The Girl is seriously good at what she does and is understandably put out that in this case – through no fault of her own – it was not possible to leave things in the way that she would have wished. In this interregnum before starting her new job – and with all the stress of having to leave dear friends in Victoria and to deal with the complexities of moving her life back to the UK – she is having to work hard to stay positive and to focus on the future.

For my part finding that I am not after all to retire at the end of the school year is taking some adjusting to. At my previous school – which I left some seven years ago now – my retirement age would have been 60. It this school it is 65 and until recently I was resigned to working until I reached that milestone. The events of this last year – during which my prospective retirement was advanced initially to two and a half years time and then, when we discovered the grim realities of living apart, to eighteen months – found me having to make a considerable mental adjustment. I had – unfortunately – just about reached the point at which I was fully committed emotionally and psychologically both to retiring within this short time-frame and also to moving immediately to Canada. I had even picked out my Canadian vehicle and boat!

As a result I am now having to work hard to change tack and to launch myself on a different emotional course. I find myself performing the maneuver much like the captain of some ponderous, gargantuan oil tanker. Changing course is certainly possible – but it will take a while…

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