A big exhale

Posted on July 12, 2023 by doradueck

I woke shortly after 5 this morning and felt that what I had embarked on was crazy. However, nothing to be done for it but get up, have a cup of motel-room coffee, and head back on the road. It was a beautiful morning, and once again there was the grandeur of mountain and valley. IMG_2415 (1)

I need to say that I very much enjoy residing where I do, in the most southerly and westerly corner of the B.C. mainland, but, growing up on and living so much of my life on the prairies, the mountains of B.C., spectacular as they are, are not just a geographical barrier but a psychological one for me as well. So when I emerged, after several hours, into the plains of Alberta (Pincher Creek area) it was like a big inner exhale. The light both paler and brighter, the horizon visible, and there no obstacle to get over and around. Muted tones of brown, gold, green. Ah-h-h-

My “listen” today was the intro and chapter one of Rachel Held Evans’ Inspired, and then the 10-episode series, The RFK Tapes, described as “a trip down a rabbit hole surrounding the assassination of Senator Robert F. Kennedy.” I remember that event of 1968 but had no idea there were so many fascinating aspects to the story. After a while I felt it was veering into conspiracy theory but in the end the host backed firmly away.

I’m staying this evening and night in Swift Current with my lovely niece Tori, a midwife, and her dog Charlotte.

On the road with Sweet Bobby

Posted on July 11, 2023 by doradueck

I left Tsawwassen close to 7 this morning and now, 7 in the evening, I’ve got my legs stretched out on a bed in a room at the Shimmerhorn Inn in Creston. Nothing luxurious but it’s a bed and the place is rather pretty in blue and white, and I’m very grateful indeed to have the first day of my road trip to Winnipeg behind me. I plan to attend a Mennonite history conference, visit some friends and relatives, and then double back through Saskatchewan for a week’s writing retreat at St. Peter’s Abbey in Muenster. More about all that later if I find time and energy to keep up a bit of a blog-diary.

I decided to take the #3 out of B.C. On the map that highway looks like an earthworm wiggling along the border. No end of curves, that’s for sure, and no end either of up and down, but it’s magnificent country in so many ways, the mountains and trees and valleys and rivers, and in Keremeos and Osoyoos, vineyards and orchards and bustling fruit markets. Traffic was relatively light and road conditions were good.

Before setting out, I downloaded several books and podcasts to help the hours along. Today I listened to the last four episodes of a six-episode podcast I’d started at home called Sweet Bobby. It’s a harrowing true tale about some complicated catfishing, which is not, I learned, the action of catching catfish but “a deceptive activity in which a person creates a fictional persona or fake identity on a social networking service, usually targeting a specific victim.”

Here’s the description of the series.

Kirat is a successful radio presenter. On Facebook she meets Bobby, a handsome cardiologist. He’s a catch. Soon, they get tangled up in a love affair full of lies and manipulation. Then… Kirat discovers a deception of almost unimaginable proportions.

I like podcasts that tell a true story, and are journalistic in style. (Recommendations welcome.) I also listened to an hour of Writers & Co. Although Eleanor Wachtel, one of the best interviewers ever, has just retired after 33 years of doing the show, some of her favourites are being aired throughout the summer.

Day one nearly done then. My body still feels like it’s in motion, but I’ll go for a walk and then, hopefully sleep well, and be ready to drive again tomorrow. A few more mountains to get over or around.

Deeply affected: Women Talking

Posted on February 17, 2023 by doradueck

Two things I don’t do often: write a blog post just a week and some days after the previous, and go to the same movie twice. I’m doing the first because I was so deeply affected by seeing “Women Talking” I went two days in a row. The first time, I attended alone, and the second, with four friends and then out to dinner to discuss it. Both times were powerful. onesheet

This isn’t a typical review, so if you’re not familiar with the details of the film, there are many reviews (like the Guardian’s) and responses online that supply them. Nor is it about the plight of the women in the story behind the story or how consistent or compatible to “real” Mennonite life it is or a critique of casting or screenplay or anything else. These were discussions that happened in my Facebook feed before I attended, and they interested me because years ago I engaged myself with the Bolivian Mennonite women’s story and also read and reviewed Miriam Toews’ novel Women Talking, but after seeing the movie I found myself strangely disinterested in opining on any of this, for the movie affected me at a visceral, not intellectual, level, and that’s still the place it sits. I can’t quite articulate why or what about this version of the story called up such emotion in me. My friends and I certainly remembered situations of it not mattering what we thought but mine has been a place of privilege in terms of the horrific backstory here. Still, somehow I felt myself within every woman in that hayloft, as well as those like Scarface Janz who left the conversation. I did love the two older women in particular, yes, but I “knew” the women of the other ages too as the camera lingered on their faces. women-talking-hero

But I’m not sure that’s quite it either, it sounds preposterous to suggest that I understand each angle or position within the arguments, reactions, consolations, and even laughter about forgiveness and innocence and courage. About the wisdom in “it is possible to leave…in one frame of mind and arrive elsewhere in another entirely unexpected frame of mind” (August). About what to do!

Please forgive the foggy imprecision of this response. Maybe it was simply being drawn into a story that feels core in its concerns, about topics important to all of us. And for sure to women. Maybe it’s because if I wrote the minutes of my life I would set down exactly their desires too: that we want our children to be safe, that we want to be steadfast in our faith, that we want to think.