This place has finally planted some roots in my heart. I have lived a number of places in the past eight years—six different cities or towns—and the transition to this place, to Gold Bridge, has so far been the most difficult. Perhaps it was because it was a transformative transition; not only was I moving to a new community, but I was moving into an isolated space, where I would be living and working almost entirely on my own. Being a new teacher I had that “I-have-no-idea-what-I-am-doing” chip on my shoulder as well, which made it all the more difficult.
I also felt stuck inside. BEARS everyone said. Watch out for the BEARS. Black bears and grizzlies, some with cubs in tow. They are everywhere! I bought bear mace and an air horn, made friends with a 180-pound St. Bernard, Sanford, who lives up the street, and I was off to explore the surrounding area. I think for me walking is how I make a home for myself. I set up my place to sleep, decorate my roofed den, and then I set out to explore the new territory.
In October, after weeks and weeks of walking, after settling into the classroom routine and getting to know my students a little better, I finally started to feel at peace, to feel excited to come back to this place after a weekend away, my home.
I have met some amazing people, people who are new to the area and those who have lived here for a half-century or more. Everyone keen to offer help, should I ever need anything, "I'm in the book" they say. "The book" is the very thin phonebook that holds phone numbers of people from Lillooet and surrounding areas; most people don't have the internet here to Google a neighbour's number.
The stories of the gold rush days are incredibly interesting. The way people traveled here, the risks they took and the things they left behind. Some people walked here from Lillooet with all their belongings and family members to start a life in a place they had only heard about through stories. I was able to drive here a couple of times, to peer in the windows of the school and my house before I even got the job!
What I have not heard much about is the First Nations history of the area. It is something that has been on my mind since I got here.
Last night out for a walk I was crossing over the bridge out of town with Sanford and heard some strange sounds coming from the river below. It was three large river otters playing, ducking in and out of the swift, murky water, racing back and forth under the bridge, their calls echoing off the rocky banks and cement foundations. I watched them for about fifteen minutes before their chirps headed downstream with their bodies. What an amazing place this is. As I headed up the paved road towards a forested trail, I noticed bear prints stamped into the smooth black asphalt. It must have been walking during the rain of the other day while I was at home, throwing wood into my wood stove and drinking a mug of hot tea on the couch.
Sanford and I out for a walk in early September
No comments:
Post a Comment