Well, haven't I been a poor author? Indeed. I'm now in Winnipeg and have been here for a week and a half. For a while, I had no Internet, but I have been writing about things, regardless. So, now, what I'll do, is post a couple of entries, or at least some excerpts, for your reading enjoyment. I am keeping a Winnipeg diary, though, and it's a seperate entity from this journal, and not meant for public perusal, at least, not yet.

For today, I shall go shopping, and exploring. But I am out of milk and need my coffee, so first things first. Must get dressed and catch the bus to Osborne Village where there is a Second Cup to serve my needs (and a walk-in clinic where I can get my prescription renewed, if it's open).

And now, some entries.

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Pearson International Airport – Terminal 3.

Right now, I’m one of those people. Yes, sitting at the airport, waiting to board, working on a laptop. In the last eight minutes, the sky has gone from deep purple to pale greeny-blue and pink. It’s not exactly pretty, but it’s probably the best pre-dawn colour I’m going to get through the smoggy haze over the tarmac.

Everything has gone smoothly, except for the hostile security guards. Maybe they weren’t actually hostile, maybe it was cultural, or their apparent aggression was based in their lack of rudimentary English skills. I’m not sure, but they took my nail scissors. They told me (I think) that I could take them and check them, but seriously, my bags had already gone through ten minutes earlier. So, sorry Mom, I told them to chuck them, of collect them along with all the other illegal objects. Someone can do a good back-of-van trade in nail scissors and Swiss Army knives. Other than that, mind you, this morning has gone remarkably well. I sort of expected my cab driver to bail on me, or for something untoward to happen. I’m not sure what, exactly, but something that would make my travel plans run a little less evenly. 5:45am is the perfect time to be driving on the Gardner expressway, though, so we made excellent time. Still, things might not run as smoothly on the other side of things, since I have absolutely no idea what to expect in Winnipeg.

I had a really nice supper last night with Rick at the sushi place near his house. It was a good way to be sent off. We’re kind of at a strange crossroads, though. On Saturday, after my going-away party, we essentially broke up. It was nice, it was mutual, I cried, but I felt good about it and our level of maturity. Rick is now having second-thoughts, but I am not. As sad as it is, I don’t know that I see a future with him. Our lives are very divergent. I am about to head out willy-nilly into the Wild Blue Yonder of contract museum work. I’d like, perhaps, to go to the UK for a year, or so. Maybe to the States. I’m not looking to settle down by any stretch of the definition. I ended up telling him that if he wanted to wait, that’s up to him, but I’m going to be far away, and want the freedom to go out with people, maybe to see other people. Honestly, I prefer the idea of an amicable, respectful break-up that we can both support.

Anyway, it’s close to seven o’clock, now, and boarding is slated to begin in scant moments. There aren’t that many people waiting at the gate, but those that are here show a remarkable array of skin-colour and that gladdens me. I get the feeling that Winnipeg isn’t going to be anything like how I imagined it (except, maybe about the flat part).

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Winnipeg, the arrival

Winnipeg International Airport is pretty small, compared to Pearson. I don’t know how much international service it provides; I suspect most travellers have to connect from other airports in Halifax, Montreal, Toronto, or Vancouver. At any rate, it isn’t very big. The flight itself was totally uneventful, which is probably a good thing, and after clearing the smog barrier over Southern Ontario, we ended up travelling at such a high altitude that nothing of the ground or lakes below was particularly visible. I tracked the plane’s progress on the seat-mounted GPS screen (also doubles as a satellite television – we ARE living in the future) and we maxed out at 41,000+ feet above sea level. That’s pretty damn high.

I slept for an hour, as well, which wasn’t terribly comfortable, but a nap’s a nap. When I woke up, the smog and clouds were far behind and below the plane was the broken terrain of Northwestern Ontario. The land is literally pitted with small round lakes. It was kind of neat. This carried on into Manitoba, and then, suddenly, as the plane began its descent, the forests and lakes gave way to prairie. The farms were made up of large, vast square fields and I could tell by the furrows and fences that the ground was more or less flat. Maybe not Kansas flat, but possibly pancake flat.

And, Winnipeg is definitely flat. I rode in a limo from the airport, a stretched limo, even (for six bucks more than a taxi, who’s going to say no to all leather interior and one’s own personal tour guide), and I said, “My God, Winnipeg is so flat.” The driver, who’s name, which is even printed on his card, is Curly, laughed and said, “And we just drove down one of the city’s bigger hills.” So far as I have been able to tell in only a day and half, he’s really not kidding. We’d just driven down an embankment of some sort and it was less steep than the average on-ramp to a Toronto highway.

We arrived at the house and I brought my stuff in. As promised, Rosetta had left the key in the mailbox and a note for me. I set about poking around a bit, just to familiarise myself with the layout of the house. Whatever I’d expected, the house is not how I expected it to be, although my bedroom specifically is quite like how I imagined. My flat is more spacious than I’d guessed it to be and Rosetta had cleared a great deal of cupboard and shelf space for me. My two suitcases, heavy though they were, did not hold enough to fill all the space she’d made. I took a couple of hours to unpack, settle my stuff around my work area and bedside tables, set up the bathroom and then heated up some quiche that she’d left for me in the fridge. I called my mother when all was done, spoke to her for a bit, then left a message for Rick telling him I’d arrived safely, and then, because I was starting to feel very alone in the house, called some other people. Then I settled down for what I meant to be a two hour nap. It became four, meaning I didn’t go outside to explore, and woke up when Rosetta came home after work.

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Manitoba Museum First Impressions

Just about everyone I have been introduced to is nice and some are downright wonderful. My supervisors seem enjoyable and maybe even quirky. In a good way, especially the paleontologist, although I won’t know for sure until I start working with him at the end of next week. When I’m working in the Education/Programming office, I’ll be sharing a room with a funny, bright woman who has philosophies regarding the running of a museum very close to my own. We were half ready to run out and start our own museum consulting firm, but then I told her I should at least complete my internship in order to graduate. As with the ROM, the vast majority of staff are women, but unlike the ROM, there are as many, if not more, women in directorial positions as men, including the executive director, which is a very nice change.

In only two days at the museum, I’ve already made a number of observations regarding the similarities to the ROM, the differences, and comparisons to other institutions. First of all, the Manitoba Museum is without question, one of the most unique museums I have ever visited, anywhere. It makes a priority of connecting with the province’s communities, especially the diverse population of First Peoples living here. As well, there is the most amazing display of the Nonsuch, a replica of the Hudson Bay Company’s original sailing vessel. It sits in “dry dock” in a reproduction port in England, and visitors can tour the ship and the buildings surrounding it. This would be an enviable exhibition at any naval museum, but to have it here, in the middle of Central Canada, on the prairie, is such a charming surprise. I’m looking forward to working on the Nonsuch at some point in the future.

My first day was spent being toured about the museum by various people through the public areas and most of the behind-the-scenes areas, what at the ROM we called “Curatorial”. Many sections remind me of the ROM, especially in the production and display areas where bits of all sorts of things are lining the light grey-painted walls. Empty cases, stands, tables, and bits of indefinable detritus stand in corners and lean here and there. I met probably twenty or more people whose names I’ve mostly already forgotten. It was not a good day to be wearing high heals. I was provided with the Exhibits binder to familiarise myself with the different galleries and the sort of interpretation I will be doing in them, because, of course, I will be required to do a fair bit of work with the public. I was shown the local luncheon restaurant where everyone goes, and I couldn’t help thinking of Cheryl and all of our lunches at Ned’s across from the ROM. I suspect I’ll be making a lot of such comparisons for a while; can’t be helped, I guess. Also, I was given a copy of the newly produced (with that delicious printer-fresh smell) “Annual Report” to read, which I did. The Manitoba Museum managed to be in the black for twelve years straight, but apparently have run up a deficit this past year, an unenviable position to be in for any institution, but sadly all too common.

On my second day, I was thrown to the wolves, so to speak. I had an hour and a half to study a pair of school programs, which was interesting, although a bit dry. At ten o’clock, when the museum opens to the public, I was taken to the Discovery Room where I was given a fairly in depth tour and orientation by Jérome, one of the programs department staff, and then left to meet the public and demonstrate some various things. There was a seasoned volunteer with me, as well, but she wandered off for a while at one point. Good thing I am comfortable being a museum’s public face. After lunch, I was once again, chucked into an exhibit, this time the temporary installation “Discovering Chimpanzees”, which is about Jane Goodall, one of my personal heroes, and the chimpanzee families she’s studied at Gombe National Park in Tanzania. It is an incredible exhibit, especially since so much of it is audio-visual. I’m sure I’ll talk more about it in future entries. I was given very little orientation, so I spent most of the shift going through the exhibit, reading everything, watching everything, and trying out all the interactives. It is inspiring in its message of hope and concern. By the final hour of my shift, I was ready to start talking to the public and answering some basic questions.