Strange New Worlds
To boldly go where...ah, we all know it.
There is something strange about having grown up in a small town. So many of my
classmates had disregarded travel as something they would do in their future. The sun rose and
set on this small gathering of communities. The western border is marked by Wildwood. To the
east, there is Wabamun. A trip into town means heading to Drayton Valley. And, if you were
really in the mood for adventure, you could summon up your courage and head into Edmonton
for a day. To so many of my classmates, success meant getting a house right across the street
from the parents, and getting a job on one of the many oil rigs that surround the landscape. I was
one of the few who realized that there was more to the world than this grouping of villages. I
was going to go places, and look back at those trapped in those small towns, and laugh. But,
sadly, when so many around you are convinced that there is nothing more to the world than a
few villages, you come to believe it on some level. Thus, my first day was a blur.
I had never been on an airplane before. After stowing my backpack in the overhead
compartment, I got my window seat and buckled up. I looked out the window at my last glimpse
of Edmonton International. From my window, I could see the shining chrome of the jet engine's
leading edge. The stewardesses started going through that routine you see on all the TV shows.
"Here are the exits. This is how you buckle your seatbelt. The washroom is over there for those
who want a quickie." I was startled when, halfway through the lecture, the plane started
moving! We were heading for the runway. There was no turning back. I leaned back in my
chair and gazed out the window. Having always had a fascination with aviation, I smiled with
glee as I heard the mighty jet engines rev up. We began rolling down the runway, and within a
matter of seconds, we were airborne. I looked out the window to see the rapidly shrinking town
of Leduc, vast fields reduced to nothing but greenish-yellow squares, and it was all separated by
tiny grey lines that were once roads. The plane circled round, and soon we were heading west. I
had brought a book to read, but I was just transfixed by the view. I dared not look away from the
window. The stewardess even had to tap my shoulder to ask if I wanted the bag of peanuts.
While chewing on the peanuts, I soon saw the mountains coming up on the horizon. I
looked at my watch. It had only taken half an hour to get from Edmonton to the mountains.
What always took me a day by car had only taken a half an hour. The plan began soaring over
the mountains. I saw the mountains from above. Words fail to describe the mountains from
above. I tried looking for familiar peaks, but the were all unrecognizable from that angle. Soon,
I was seeing isolated lakes that were probably untouched by human hands for years. The
mountains just never stopped. While still fixed on them, the captain announced that we were
starting our decent into Vancouver. Suddenly, in the middle of all these mountains, this vast city
started spreading out before me. It was a large city, larger than any I had ever known. There
was a mild thud as the plane touched down. I looked at my watch, and set it back one hour. I
had arrived.
Vancouver International Airport is a huge place. I think I was walking for a good fifteen
minutes from the gate to the baggage carousel. I had everything I needed in my backpack, but I
knew the carousel would be as good a place as any to meet them. I also knew that Chuck and L
had never been slaves to the clock, so I wasn't surprised when they weren't there waiting for me.
I settled in, and began waiting. First rule of waiting: wait in one spot. Your chances of being
found are greater if you sit still. Second rule of waiting: make yourself noticeable. You chances
of being found are greater if you stand out. I leaned against a wall, and waited. And waited. I
went and used the washroom. I came back, and waited some more. As I was considering
heading over the Harvey's for a snack, something possessed me to turn around. There was L,
holding a sign emblazoned with my name. We hugged, and made our way to the van parked
outside. Standing watch over the van was Chuck. We hugged. I stowed my backpack, and we
were off.
We made our way through the streets of downtown Vancouver. Vancouver was having
the last of their "best of the Fringe" holdovers, and Chuck and L had managed to secure tickets
to one of the plays. It started in under an hour, and we had to make our way to the theater on
Granville Island. Again, I was transfixed with the view outside the window. This time, it was a
view of unfamiliar skyscrapers, rundown city streets, and hundreds of pedestrians. It was all so
different. Chuck and L were telling stories about how their jobs were going and their adventures
in getting to the airport, but I was barely listening. I was just stunned.
After a few traffic snarls, we got to Granville Island and made our way to the theater.
Just two short hours ago, I was boarding an airplane in Edmonton. Now, I was sitting in a
darkened theater in Vancouver preparing to watch my first play. It was called Sabotage 2001, a
rather plotless piece. It was more like sketch comedy, as over the next hour we were presented
with recurring characters, witty one-liners, and just plain absurdist humour. I liked it. It was
funny. And it gave Chuck a whole new wealth of one-liners to be quoting for the next week.
We had a whole afternoon to kill before the next play that evening. L casually asked
what we wanted to do next. I spoke the truth. I was still stunned at what I had been through
over the past few hours, and needed a place to sit down, and maybe have a drink. We roamed
the streets of Granville Island and found a little cafe on the water's edge. I had a chocolate
milkshake. As we sat at the water's edge, drinking our drinks, I couldn't help but repeat aloud,
over and over, "I'm here." "I'm here." "I'M HERE!" Chuck and L looked at me with
amusement, as did most of the other tourists walking by. I had arrived.
Chuck and L pointed out that the water was the ocean. I had a hard time comprehending
that. A lot of the ocean in Vancouver comes in by way of bays and inlets. To the untrained eye,
like mine, it could easily be mistaken for a river. But still, there was a little part of me going,
"Woah, dude, that's the ocean. THE OCEAN!" "But there's land on the other side. It can't
be," the majority of myself kept saying. Upon L's urging, we did head straight down and I
touched the Atlantic Ocean. It was warm. It felt like I could go for a swim. It was the ocean.
Another hour or so was spent exploring the rest of Granville Island. It's a real tourist
trap. I tried to avoid buying mementos on my first day, as I didn't have anything to remember
yet.
We had a lot more time to kill before the next play, so it was to the downtown district for
L to show off some of her favorite shops. It was here that I discovered one of the greatest
aspects of Vancouver culture: 99¢ pizza. Are you aware of this? A huge-ass slice of pizza, for
only 99¢. That would just be enough, but add to it the fact that it's good pizza. When you're a
pizza fanatic like myself, this is heaven. It required a conscious effort to not gorge myself, and
trust me, pizza is the one food where I have no self-control. 99¢ pizza is one of the greatest
inventions of humankind.
After a few more hours of wandering downtown, we made our way to the theater for the
second play: Edmonton's infamous Unidentified Human Remains and the True Nature of Love.
For those who have never heard of it, it follows the adventures of a diverse group of
Edmontonians as they search for love, satisfy their lust, and dodge a serial killer (although, that
description is rather simplistic). It's one of those weighty plays that deals with topical subject
matter and sticks with you for a while. But, it'll stick with me for a while for quite a different
reason. Longtime readers will know of how I obsess over my virginity, so who thought that a
play in Vancouver would bring me first glimpse of a naked woman? I had heard of the play, but
I didn't know that it entailed topless women simulating sex acts. The trip was all downhill from
there.
When the play ended, it was getting close to midnight. We finally decided to head back
to L's place and settle in for the night. There was no doubt that I had had a big day. First plane
ride...first big city...first play...first glimpse of the ocean...first naked woman...first trip. All this,
and add in the fact that I had just seen one of those plays that makes you think deep thoughts,
and throw in a pinch of homesickness. I was starting to feel overwhelmed. As I sat on the floor
of Chuck and L's inner sanctum/bedroom, I had to turn and ask if they were glad I came. They
said yes. As I sat there, trying to digest my day, that made me feel better. But, there was one
thing I knew I needed: sleep. I said my good-nights and retired to the guest room.
As I lied there in bed, staring at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to come, I couldn't help
but think back to all those classmates of mine, who would never leave their communities. I had
done more in one day than they'll probably ever do in their lifetime. Suddenly, the small towns
that I had come from seemed to be just that: small. Things go farther west than Wildwood.
They go farther east than Wabamun. Drayton Valley isn't the be all and end all of civilization,
and there are destinations a lot bigger than Edmonton. I had been imagining doing something
like this for my whole life, and now that I was doing it, I was starting to realize how small my
life really was. And the adventure was just beginning.
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