PRE-LEAVING COUNTRY CAMPING TRIP
SALTSPRING ISLAND, BC.

Camping for the past three days really opened my eyes to how much we take things for granted as urbanites. We've been spoiled rotten in the city with all its extravagent conveniences.

But being on Saltspring itself showed me something that transcends all the mundane chores I speak of. It was even beyond the feel-good swim we had on the lake and all the arbutus trees we encountered on our hike. I experienced an incredible feeling of community on this laid-back Gulf island. Maybe it has to do with the stereotype I have of this place even before I stepped foot on it: hippies abound with their locally made currency that keeps the money in the community. To be honest, I believe it has more to do with the individual people we met this long weekend.

Our tent neighbours, the Vancouver family with two little boys who adored guitar serenades were friendly and wonderful. The Saturday Ganges community market with its foods, local arts and crafts was so involving with its many food samples (Mmm. . .jams, jams, jams, cheese, flavoured dough) and sundry foods to purchase and eat (blueberry/peach pie, popcicle juicy). On our hike around the southern part, we came across a stand that sold lemonade, cookies, dried flowers and garlic with just a lone box for the money! I've never seen anything so trusting in my life. Looking at this through urban eyes, from a place where nobody would leave their doors unlocked, bikes unchained even for a mere fraction of a second, I feared for local and international punks who would try to steal the chocolate chip goodies. Similar unsupervised stalls apparently exist in Victoria as well.

Our last evening on Saltspring was a community event in itself. At the local Ganges park, a group of hand drummers from Vancouver, Victoria and other parts were jamming and chanting while we practiced martial arts on the grass against the bright orange sun that was lowering itself in the sky. A guy from Victoria knew the katas I was practicing and did some with us. One of the older drummer had made yummy stone soup (lots and lots of vegetable in a stew, sans stone I hope. . .) and gave us a free dinner with bread. In appreciation, we sang him a song we wrote (revised from Fiddler on the Roof). It was too bad that they were on the same campsite that we were staying at for that night. Would have been fun if could continue jamming with them into the night. We danced around the drummers until it was time to go and catch the ferry home.

*NOTE: I'm a bit worried after reading an email from my friend who is now working in Bangladesh. She's getting homesick for things Western, sick for Canadian things. I only hope I will meet similar characters like the ones we met on Saltspring in China and that I will never take anything for granted. We are only here at this place and this time of our lives now. Live it a full one.