I saw an old flame...

Seeing an old flame… somewhat appropriate that I should write this on the first day of winter....

So a few weeks ago, I updated my status on Facebook to read, “I’m sooo excited. Meeting an old flame from overseas next Thursday”. I think it caused a minor stir although some people were too polite to comment till after I clarified. After all, what else could “an old flame” mean besides an ex-boyfriend? LOL!!! People! People! Have you ever known me to do something completely irresponsible? Or even veer in that direction? OK fine, the little incident with my eating that whole chocolate cheesecake was completely undocumented. I never told a soul about it! Hahaha.

Jokes aside, I did see an “old flame” from overseas recently. “It” traveled thousands of kilometers on a long and important journey, not just for me but for the world. At the end of October this year, at the Panathenian Stadium where the modern Olympics were born 113 years ago, the Olympic flame for the Vancouver 2010 Games was transferred to Canadian control.

Now, I’m no athlete. I don’t even pretend to exercise daily. What touches my spirit beyond words is what the Olympics represent. Some say, “The Olympic flame is the Olympic Games symbol of peace, hope, inclusiveness, equality, joy and fraternity”. I like that,... that appeals to me. Call me a sentimental fool, a softy, a bleeding-heart liberal for believing that. I don’t care, really. There are way too many cynics today, let’s choose to spread some positive vibes instead of fueling negativity.

Back to my date with the flame…when I learned that the Olympic flame was coming to my neighbourhood, I had no choice but to make plans to see it, n’est-ce pas? How many of us can boast of living in an Olympic host country but more than that, be privileged enough to live in a city that is part of the Olympic Torch relay? I have no idea if Canada will host another Olympics in my lifetime and even if it did, if the flame would ever walk the streets that I walk. Therefore, it was a no-brainer – we would, as a family, go be a part of this immensely special ocassion.

Supposedly, when the flame left Greece in October, it also marked the start of a new journey for the flame that would see it endure the longest national relay in Olympic history. Vanoc (Vancouver Organizing Committee) chief executive John Furlong said this when he received the flame at Panathenian Stadium, “Today we accept the Olympic flame with humility and respect and with joy. This moment marks the beginning of the Vancouver 2010 torch relay and our 106-day odyssey of hope." The torch relay through Canada this year would be a 45,000 kilometer relay that would touch all provinces and territories, through more than 1,000 communities and unbelievably, implausibly, yet remarkably, mine would be one of those communities.

On December 6th, I bundled up my whole family at 6:00pm to take a shuttle bus to a park at a nearby suburb. I even packed a few thermoses of hot chocolate! The runner scheduled for this particular leg of the flame’s journey was a high school student, something that resounded with my identity as a teacher. It was the night before the first forecasted snowstorm. So, did the frigid weather deter people from coming out to welcome this flaming symbol of hope? “Not a snowball’s chance in hell” is how one local reporter responded.

It was an inspiring evening. So many people – young, old and in between, all bundled up in winter clothing, many of them in Canadiana Olympic red apparel, the cutest were the little babies, completely wrapped from head to toe in snowsuit, cutesy toques with pom poms, red cheeks … you could see their warm breaths in the cold air. Everyone got noise makers (little tambourines), glowing Coke bottles (a sponsor), there was hot chocolate, Christmas lights, and entertainment and chit chat being conducted in the two national languages of Canada, French and English.

When the flame finally emerged, the atmosphere crescendoed to a boisterous, rousing bilingual rendition of O’ Canada. It was FANTASTIC! Everyone, of all ages and of all colours, seemed to remember all the words. We sang, with ONE voice, tinged with subtle yet undeniable Canadian pride, as the sleek cool-looking torch, designed by Bombardier engineers (Montreal company) arrived in our neighbourhood.

Seeing the bright yellow and blue flame bouncing as it moved through the crowd somehow got me choked up. I cannot explain it. I felt a whole gamut of emotions and I wasn’t even the one carrying the flame! I felt pride, awe, humility, happiness, reverence, fascination… how odd … yet completely wonderful! The icing on the cake was at the end of the evening when my kids thanked me for an exciting outing. Even they, at their young and tender age, had felt something special in the air.

Two days later, after Montreal’s first major snowstorm, I was privileged enough to see the flame again, this time in the middle of the day during school hours. I felt so blessed to have some free periods exactly during the time of the flame’s traverse near my school. This time, there were busloads of students from nearby schools lining up the street awaiting the flame. I had a fabulous front row “seat” and managed to take a video of this special moment. The feelings I had the previous night ALL returned, this time even stronger as children all around me chanted, “Canada! Canada! Canada!” Many were holding flags and posters they drew. I seriously felt the hope and pride of this adoptive nation of mine.

It was an experience that was magnificent, mind-blowing and completely awesome!

I am humbled to have had the privilege of being a part of this historic relay, not once but twice. How lucky am I? February 12th - I have another date with you, my flame, as the Winter Olympics begin. Hope to catch the live coverage of the Opening ceremonies. May these Games indeed be a symbol of "symbol of peace, hope, inclusiveness, equality, joy and fraternity"

More firsts....

I've never been to a spa even though I'm the ripe old age of "29" (wink wink nudge nudge..) I have shied away from it for various reasons, the silliest being I was afraid I would feel inferior standing in what I assumed would be posh settings. After all, I am no celebrity, no royalty... I am part of the normal, working class. Plus I always pictured a spa as a place with long flowing white curtains, beautiful women dressed in soft, white terry robes... a place where you get led to a room and in comes a hulking, blond, Viking woman called Olga who proceeds to thump the life out of you. So when a student and her parents gave me a gift card to a popular spa last Christmas, I did not quite know how to react.

Common courtesy dictated that I embrace them warmly for their generous gift. The little 7 year old was smiling from ear to ear, pleased that she had picked a wonderful gift for her teacher and her beautiful mom standing beside her beamed just as brightly. I was indeed touched to receive such a gift. "Mom" gave me the double-cheeked Montreal kiss and whispered in my ear, "Enjoy yourself, Mrs. O. You deserve it" Got me teary-eyed....the tears returned later that day when I got home with my second trunk load of Christmas gifts from my students. In all, presents and loving thoughts from a total of 113 students and their families. I have never in all my life, felt love from so many people, all at once. Affirmation that really, money cannot buy.

Back to the spa. Fast forward 11 months. I've pulled out the little gift bag from the spa many times during the year. Never had the time or guts to make an appointment. Last week, I noticed there was an expiry date...looming close... So, what did I do? Instead of putting the gift away as I had done throughout the year, I picked up the phone and made an appointment for a chair massage. Yeay!! Some of my friends are cheering, whooping and hollering now - there is hope for me!

So, the day of the spa appointment arrives. I am nervous. Some of my friends would think ??##?!!?? Well, I was!! I even fussed about what to wear!?? Felt like a teenager going on my first date, I was so silly. What was that all about?

I arrive at the spa. You can't see anything through the windows...as I anticipated, there were white, flowy curtains giving those on the inside a sense of privacy. As if they were the in-crowd. I walk in the door and it was as I expected. There was a reception desk with four or five women wearing the colours of the spa. I see at least three different uniforms, one of the ladies even has a blazer on, she was probably a manager of sorts. The place was dimly lit, soothing wall colours, a light brown beige-y colour (similar to a colour called Shiatsu in my home), there were chandeliers. Over on the right was a sitting area with a white leather couch and white chairs flanked a fireplace that felt warm. The walls seemed curved. Wow...having built a house, I can imagine how much that cost to have customized curvy walls.

Since I am new, they have me filling out a form. Within minutes my massage therapist comes to make my aquaintance and after perusing my form, she suggests a full massage instead of a chair massage saying she could "work my problem areas" better that way. I gulped, she saw me hesitate and smiled, gently reassuring me that all would be well. I did not need to do anything I was not comfortable doing.

So, what do I do? I take the plunge! Well, if you're gonna do something, you might as well do it right, right? :D We walk through frosted glass doors etched with the spa name that marvellously swishes open as we approach them. The hallway is curved, mimicking what I saw in the reception, dimly lit by small chandeliers. Dark wooden doors indicate private rooms. She, let's call her "Maryse", leads me to one.

The room is even more dimly lit than the hallways. There are candles on a mantle on a wall. There is what I call "music water" playing. There is a bed with a soft looking blanket on it. She tells me the bed is heated and to undress and get under the covers. All of a sudden, you could hear my thoughts, my careful observation of my serene surroundings screech to a halt, kind of like the sound a DJ makes when he spins a record the opposite way - like a car doing emergency braking ... Eeeeekkkk!!

Hahahaha. Don't worry... I knew that would happen but still...it is somewhat disconcerting when a total stranger tells you to disrobe, no? I am given some privacy and when she returns, I receive a half-hour introduction to a world where someone else is taking care of your needs. Someone is identifying that parts of your life or your body are in need of relief and that someone is going ahead and taking care of giving you that relief.

Being a working mom, I am normally that person who identifies needs in those around me and I am the one meeting those needs. For years, I would get upset if I did not manage to meet all those needs, as if I was completely responsible for the happiness and well-being of every single person I met. I do not know how I developed this warped sense of responsibility. I do know now, at the "ripe old age of 29" (nudge 2x wink 2x) that if I allow this attitude to lead my life, it will kill me just a little every day.

My 30 minutes with "Maryse" taught me to find a balance to my life. If I keep on chugging and giving, with no regard to myself, eventually, my tank will run dry. I can but choke and sputter while hoping to reach my final destination. I am realizing that it is not at all BAD to do something nice for myself every now and then. I'm sure I have some girlfriends who would say, "Whaddaya mean every now and then? Do it often!" Hahaha!

Well, my dears, I love you all for loving me and encouraging me to relax and enjoy some of what life has to offer and if I should be so lucky to receive some down time at a spa, I should never be apologetic about it and to relish my good fortune. And so I move on, a woman on her journey towards excellence and happiness, a woman no longer a spa virgin.


Virtual Visit Spa

My first....

So, it’s 09/09/09 – the ninth of September in the year 2009 and it’s 23 C. I’m sitting outdoors at a Starbucks, here in the most European of cities in North America – beloved Montreal. There is not a cloud in the sky…only pristine blue as far as the eye could see

I’m doing this for my friend Arzee. He’s someone from my glory days at McGill U. We were there 20 years ago. Arzee no longer lives in Montreal, having returned to Malaysia upon graduation. However, mention McGill and Montreal and it is as if his own personal silver screen that is made up of memories comes immediately to life. Sights and sounds of days gone by. Feelings experienced whilst in one’s youth: the insecurities of a young adult ... the burden of doing well at school ... the freedom to party whenever you wanted to ...the responsibility of paying one’s own bills... the thrill of one’s first relationship ... the sorrow of one’s first break up ... he loves me, he loves me not ...the regret of never having loved while in the prime of life ... the privilege of having experienced more wonders than money can buy ...

Many years have passed.

Arzee and I are still the best of friends. At least I think so. Girl and boy, one in the West, the other in the East. One forever cautious, the other larger than life. One Christian, the other Muslim. One reads, the other dances. Sometimes polar opposites but always caring friends. He is like the big brother I never had. More like twin brother as we are the same age.

Back to Starbucks, I am here mainly of my own volition ...partly coz I received a gift card for Christmas. Otherwise I could never afford such visits on my teacher's salary. One coffee could cost as much as a whole lunch for one adult! What amazing new vocabulary to learn – mezzo, grande (pronounced "grun-day"), venti….(why can’t they keep to small, medium and large?) I am outside of my comfort zone but I press ahead. RZ said – try everything once.

I had to do some research before I came…can you imagine? Such a sheltered life. I actually asked around what people’s favourite items were AND I even googled the Starbucks menu so I could make the best choice with my little gift card. Odd? Weird? No problem. I still love myself no matter what you think.

Seeing as it was a beautiful summer day in September, of course I had to go with something iced – specifically a Mocha Frappucinno – an iced blend of espresso, chocolate, and milk. I tried to be responsible and take the “light version” and asked for skimmed milk ... but I was so quiet and unsure with my ‘demand’ that the waitress…wait…I think the word is “barista” (LOL!) heard it as ...wanting “whipped cream” with my order.

So instead of repeating my request for “skimmed milk” (did not want to draw attention to myself now, the virgin Starbucker), I just smiled and nodded. I pay with my gift card and about 12 seconds later, after some whirring sounds, she twirls to the other side of the counter and announces loudly, “One Mezzo Mocha Frappuccino with Whipped Cream…bla bla bla” ... I did not catch the “bla bla bla” coz I was horrified she was telling the world of my order ... and coz she “twirled” to the other side of the counter, I was no longer in the right line of coffee lovers (not that I am one, as you can see from this posting). Loser!!!

Anyway - I picked up my drink… I could see I got a domed cover thanks to all that Full Fat Whipped cream (hey – my friends told me to live dangerously and so I am!)…went to look for a straw and napkin ....and wow ....found more things to learn. Nestled in between napkin dispensers were 4 little what looked like salt and pepper bottles ...only they held what I assumed were toppings for one’s coffee.

Aha! See?... See?... I’m not all that backwards! There were 2 powders I could not identify and the other two were cannelle (cinnamon) and mocha…so of course, I chose mocha.. Hellooo!!??? I was having a Mocha Frappuccino, remember?

So, a nice sprinkling of mocha and I have to now look for somewhere to sit. Wow…what a place. Coffee houses have changed since I was a kid. This one had clusters of comfy armchairs as well as traditional warm, rustic chairs and table. Of course, the terrace was open ...guess where I went? Arzee – just for you, I took my precious drink outdoors. You see, I do not enjoy being in the sun as most Canadians…but hey…some things are worth doing for the sake of friendship!

The terrace was sprinkled with bistro sets, little round metal tables with metal chairs. Most of them were taken as Canadians take every opportunity to be in the sun. There was one left and that is where I installed myself, opened my laptop, took out my camera and began recording this first meeting with Mr. Starbucks.

For what reason, I am unsure. One may be that I felt I should enjoy the road I am on, here in Montreal, for my friend who is not here but wishes he was. So ... my dearest Arzee, this afternoon is for you ...for encouraging me to take time for myself ...for teaching me that I am fortunate, exactly where I am, ...for reminding me that sometimes, life’s little pleasures can come in clear plastic glasses with domed tops ...especially if enjoyed in the outdoors underneath the bear hug of a sunny, summer sky.

Je’ t’aime, mon ami.


PS – that Mocha Frappuccino was so sweet...and coupled with the whipped cream, probably took half of my entire day’s worth of calories. Thankfully, I have just a “humble-sized” gift card – I can only afford another one and a half of these decadent drinks :-D