Canada – Page 98 – a sibilant intake of breath

Inter-Oxford party

Many thanks to those who attended the party, bringing good food, drink, and – in Drew’s case – enough musical instruments to keep us all entertained and my parents bereft of sleep well into the morning. He and Tristan jamming on the guitar and mandolin made for an interesting spectacle at two in the morning.

Not a lot of people have stuck around for the promised pancake breakfast, and fewer seem keen on hiking during this drizzling day while not well armed with well slept brains. That said, the possibility of spending a bit more time with Kate after such a long absence has an appeal that stacks up well against that of marching up Crown Mountain.

At least one or two photos from the party will doubtless find their way online, once I find an hour or so to spend with Photoshop. Since I have my prints and scans from Ireland back, as well, they should appear online in the next few days also.

Sunday hike adjustment

Because of problems securing both cars and drivers, there is a good chance that the hike on Sunday – following the party at my place on Saturday – will not actually be to Petgill Lake. It’s too far, and I cannot be sure that rides will be available.

The (very good) fallback is to catch the bus up to the Grouse Mountain parking lot, then take the British Columbia Mountaineering Club (BCMC) trail up to the top, since the Grind is closed. From there, we would progress to the majestic view that exists off the top of Crown Mountain.

If you care to provide a vehicle or a driver, speak now. If you are mortally opposed to Crown Mountain as a possibility (it is a bit strenuous, but the view is great), this is likewise the moment to air your grievances.

Blog posts written while very tired are strange

Often, the mark of a good day – and especially a good night – is that you expect it to take several months to really wander through your brain. I am referring to those circumstances that cause a person to profoundly question essential bases of belief. Now, it is almost never the case that such questioning leads to a real personal reversal; by this point, essential beliefs are deeply established. Rather, those nights that seem as though they could contain the possibility for self redefinition are those that hold the dual power of either upsetting the existing balance, or reminding you that the pivot upon which it lies is more stable than you might have dared to hope before.

Much less cryptically, allow me to offer my sincere endorsement to Guu – a Japanese tapas restaurant to which I was led by Nick. As always, his taste did not disappoint. It is not often that one can simply order all the menu items, then discuss them with friends. Such discussion has nothing to do with personal reflection, and everything to do with the sublime chemistry in which all organic beings are embedded. Getting a medical degree seems almost worthwhile, just to understand it better. Of course, I could never stand the terror of such constant reminders of how delicate, infectable, and mortal we all are.

PS. Tzp xufx zv ndd djdu fv tl xhp uvmhah – P bmvr rycy egyi ls aavuy tiwhz. Poeg K uye enqd ys xsx nekpuil ttsd fy Vidmvd, swlczr yiavsy ewtfrfo esiswkrauk glmfziccis rfq qffjvgehlemreg qvwp hrsktidh wl ybsekzy wjmavwz – Z qcx ktnul pcevqiaj tssyl mq wyhfpj rn eabq uik. (CR: Somno)

Frantic vacations are best

Things here are starting to feel as though they have the weight of urgency behind them. After an excellent day with Alison, I am looking forward to tomorrow’s busy schedule, the party Saturday, and the probability of frantic rushing next week. I would much rather spend my time with friends – even if hurriedly – than languishing relaxedly alone.

Those who want to do something with me next week, take note. I leave on Saturday and am already committed to a growing number of activities. There are so many people who I want to see but, in the end, preference is always likely to be given to those who are able to make plans a good way in advance.

I must be off to have one dinner with my family, then another with Nick, Neal, and Lauren.

Whose God is their belly?

Many people made fun of me for being so intent on my return to Vancouver on the basis of culinary considerations: specifically the high quality and low price of food at Vancouver restaurants. My lunch with Alison today, following the Vancouver International Film Festival screening we attended, would have convinced them otherwise.

At Honjin Sushi on Lonsdale – a listed objective of mine – we each had tuna and salmon sashima, prawns, prawn and vegetable tempura, miso soup, salad, a tuna roll, and green tea. It was an extensive and delicious collection of foodstuffs, served in a good environment. All together, with tip, the bill was less than twelve Pounds.

With one week left in Vancouver, a number of other restaurants are in my sights. Gyoza King was dealt with by Sarah and I, just as Sasha W and I enjoyed the vegetarian Indian food at Yogi’s. I am having lunch at One More Sushi with Meghan Mathieson tomorrow, then dinner at India Gate with Victoria. On Monday, I am going to Tropika with Jennifer Schofield, and I am to have yet more sushi with Astrid at some point next week. Yet further plans may emerge.

PS. The post title is a reference to a category on Tony’s blog.

Tertiary degree contemplation

Sitting in the Cafe Deux Soleils on Commercial is an interesting demonstration of how this is increasingly the part of town that makes the most sense to me. That was emerging strongly during my last few months in Vancouver, as more and more of my friends moved out here from the cocoon that is UBC and environs.

Being home has provoked a lot of thought and discussion about potential doctoral studies. Setting aside the question – addressed earlier – of whether to take a pause between M.Phil and PhD and what to do in it, the matter of where to do the latter degree remains. One option is to try and get into the D.Phil program at Oxford. I don’t know how many spaces there are, but it seems like many members of the M.Phil program are hoping to get one. The biggest advantage of doing so is the rapidity with which I would get the degree. To go from an M.Phil to a PhD in just two years almost feels like cheating, but such is the nature of the accelerated Oxford system. Paying for two more years at Oxford international student prices is pretty daunting, plus there simply must be a limited amount of learning and experience that you can acquire in just two years.

Another possibility, which I am considering most seriously, is to do a doctorate in the United States. Advantages are that good American schools apparently fund their doctoral students at a level sufficient to pay for school and remain alive and reasonably happy. That is pretty necessary, given that such a program would take between four and six years to complete, depending on where you go and how similar your doctoral thesis ends up being to your master’s thesis. If it is basically just an extension, there is obviously less work involved, and thus less time.

Doing a degree in Canada is not something I have given a great deal of thought to. I don’t really know too much about Canadian doctoral programs, and most people I know in them are rather disillusioned at the moment. Of course, most of the doctoral students I know are in Oxford or Canada – the United States is a sometimes alluring mystery.

Advice from those with information on any of those possibilities would be appreciated. Hopefully, I will extract a bit from Kathy Baylis and Peter Dauvergne on Friday.

PS. With 1.2GB of RAM, the iBook feels positively zippy when dealing with the nearly 7000 image files now resident in iPhoto.

Jonathan journeying

Rather than return home with the group, Jonathan was dropped off in Kelowna so as to cycle back to Vancouver over the course of several weeks. Lauren sent me a couple of photos of him, just as he was dropped off: one, two.

Altogether, it is an impressive undertaking. Driving from Kelowna took more than five hours, and he means to make some side expeditions as well. There is one in particular to a place that I have heard said but never seen written; as such, I cannot write it.

I hope the solitude and exertion of more than a week on various British Columbian roads proves enjoyable to Jonathan. Not seeing him again before I leave is a shame, but perhaps he will make it over to the UK before I leave there.

One week passed in Vancouver

After a week in Vancouver – a week, already! – under clear blue skies, we have our first overcast day. For me, it is very welcome. It is a display of the city’s more familiar face: one complimentary to the sun-blasted one sometimes revealed in summer.

As I was telling Sarah yesterday, it feels really good to be back in a city. The change feels like going from a computer full of complicated software to a computer with a few familiar applications and a connection to the internet. The place feels more embedded in the world, more empowering, and generally closer to possibility.

Clear days are loveliest during the short time between when the sun falls below the horizon and the time when it actually gets dark. Because my judo classes used to end at exactly that time, during the summer, I still associate the particular quality of that light, and the way the shifting temperature feels, with those short walks home in judo pants.

Overcast days are excellent for hiking and biking, as well as for photography. There is no need to muck around with hats and sun creams, and the light is diffuse and well suited to being captured on film or with a digital sensor. All told, it makes me look forward even more to going walking near Trout Lake with Sasha W later today.

UBC evolving

After having lunch with my brother Mica and father downtown, I walked across the Granville Street Bridge and caught a bus out to UBC. The campus is certainly changing rapidly. Where once the northern wing of the Main Library stood, there is now the completed half of the Irving K. Barber Learning Centre. For all the skepticism I recall about the project, it actually seems like a pretty amazing facility. It’s a modern sort of design, not unlike the American Institute Library at Oxford. I particularly like the large metal spiral staircase inside the two-story tall lounge at the extreme northern end, with tall windows looking out at the Buchanon buildings.

Being back on campus feels very comfortable, as I suppose it should after I lived here for most of four years. I look forward to doing a bit more exploration of bits both changed and unchanged. Hopefully, I will manage to run into a friend or two, as well as some of the professors who I would like to meet, but didn’t really have cause to arrange a meeting with.

[Update: 12:11am September 13th 2006] I had a really nice dinner at Gyoza King with Sarah P, followed by lounging on the beach at English Bay. As always, she is a fascinating young woman. After waiting forty five minutes for a bus that wasn’t coming, I stuck out a thumb and got deposited ten metres from my doorstep in seven minutes – good evidence for the idea that the Oxford to Morocco hitch this spring will work.

Dogs

A visit to Nick’s house today reminded me of an odd (and self-reinforcing) canine behaviour. Namely, dogs seem to sense which people like members of the species Canis lupus familiaris and which people fear them, then react so as to strengthen that response in the person experiencing it. They drool and wag their tails at the dog lovers and exude all manner of ill-will towards the wary. Ever since being bitten several times as a humble North Shore News delivery boy, I have had a strong dislike for all dogs that are not manifestly harmless. I don’t mean the growling beasts that clueless owners tell you are ‘harmless’ as they champ at the bit to disembowel you: I mean dogs that are small, awkward, and preferably mostly blind. To me, other dogs are full of malice and aggression.

As such, Nick’s new dog J.D. decided to stake out the front gate to their house and snarl, pressing toothy mouth between chain-link strands, when I approached. Wandering over to Jonathan’s, his dog buddy bared its teeth in equal menace and prompted a cautious, backwards, step-by-step retreat. Eventually, I managed to flank J.D. and enter Nick’s house by a different gate.

While it may be a stereotype to say that cats are clever, independent, elegant, and aloof while dogs are stupid and playful, it is one that has more than a bit of a truthful basis. Personally, I would be quite happy to never see a member of the latter species again.

PS. Please note that these pictures have nothing to do with the posts in which they are embedded. They are just nice portraits from CF2 that I wanted to include in the blog. The very best photos will appear on Photo.net once I get my lovely Mac back.