Neighbors

Christmas has come and gone and we are now well into the new year. 2009, welcome. I'm glad you are here. It's a new year and (in two short weeks) a new place to live with a new language to speak. New beginnings all around. Exciting and scary, I must admit. I'm sad to say goodbye to all the people I've met and the places I've been. I've become very comfortable with this place. Even with the constant snow and cold, and the fact that there is very little to see and do, I can still see why people live in this small small town. The view alone is amazing and not something I am happy to be leaving. I have gotten used to seeing Terrace Bay spread out below me on my drive to and from work. I have become used to the rock face with it's frozen rivults of water. And I've especially become used to the people.

When we first came here and had our scavanger hunt to become acquainted with our town and neighbors, every single person we asked said that the people were their favourite part of Terrace Bay and Schreiber. I understand now why they said that. Without the people in these towns it would be unbearable to live here. Because we are so isolated and far removed from big cities and mindless entertainment, we do rely on ourselves, but also on our coworkers and neighbors to entertain ourselves and give us a source of interaction and human contact. The people here are so amazing and generous. Not everyone is well off here. Infact, compared to home, most people are much less well off than even my neighbors, friends and family. But everyone helps eachother here. We have had to ask on numberous occasions to borrow rakes, shovels, forks and casserole dishes, and people have always supplied them without questions or even due dates. Even the thrift store in Schreiber has supplied us with anything we NEED for free. Any kitchen things, lamps or even sweaters. If we need them, we can have them. How awesome is that?

This past two weeks, the belt in our clothes washer broke. When we go to our neighbors to ask if we can use their washer for our clothes, they never give us odd or suspicious looks like I'm sure would happen at home. They give us a laugh and welcome us inside. I was at my neighbors' house, Ron and Marie, this past Thursday with Sarah, my laundry and the laundry of two other people and Marie asked us if we wanted to watch TV while we waited for our clothes to wash. We weren't able to since there was a lot of cleaning to be done at our own house, but when we got our clothes two hours later everything had been dried and folded. for us. Everything. Now, just who in a big city would do that for anyone else. Who in a big city would come to your house with old lamps, couches or a mattress because they heard you needed one? Who would lend you 12 forks or two casserole dishes and not ask when they would be back, but trust that they would? Who would give us a bunch of cookies and chips because they know we can't buy them with the government money we are given. Not a lot of people, that's who. But here, everyone would. Everything that I have listed up there has been a seperate person. Not just one person here has been taking care of us, but everyone has. In fact, almost everything in our house, from all the chairs and tables in the living room and dining room and the cutlery and cups in the kitchen are all donated. It's amazing the kind of generousity that we can expect from absolutely everyone here.

Even though we are asked where we are from and what we are doing here, we have never been made to feel like outsiders, and for that I am thankful. We are full contributing members of this community, more involved than most of the teenagers that have lived here their whole lives. And maybe it's because we are new to this place and the newness hasn't come off yet that it is easy to be thrilled by every new thing we do and every new place we visit, where as for the kids who live here, everything is very much the same as it has always been. There is very little change for them, as is the nature of a small isolated town. But for me, the novelty of knowing all of your neighbors, their extended families and their friends hasn't rubbed off yet.

That is the biggest reason I am sad to leave here. I will never be a part of this small community again in the same way that I am now. I will never again be recognised on the street as 'one of the Katimavik kids'. I won't have the same sort of celebrity status we seem to have here. It's not really the fact that we are celebrities of a sort that I like, but the fact that we can walk down the street and be known and welcome. The towns are only getting bigger from here and more impersonal. It will be nice to be in a bigger town with more things and places available to us, but I will miss being known by everyone around me as a part of this group.