"Welcome to Street Theatre," he said

We did our first public performance, of sorts, today.

Yesterday upon discussion of what are current issues pertaining to human rights in Canada and in India, in groups of two or four we were given one issue. Using a colourful umbrella and our bodies, we created an image (tableau, frozen picture, blablabla). We then had to stay in this image for ten minutes. It's surprising how much that can hurt.

Today at lunchtime, we found ourselves on a round grassy knoll in the centre of campus, frozen in these images for a half hour. People gathered up close, discussing what it could be, people watched from far away, people ignored, and people took photos. It was bizarre.

I was in the image of "income disparity", a difficult issue to represent visually, but we got it done. I suppose our arrival as the huge group of Canadians has been announced on campus, through this installation. It was a lovely introduction to melding arts and human rights. It was painful.

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A lot of discussion is being opened on the idea of culture, what it means to be Canadian, and what it means to be a visitor in someone else's culture. What I have learned thus far in my limited travelling is that you will always be a tourist. Unless you relocate permanently, it doesn't matter how long you stay in a place, how many friends you make, how familiar it becomes. Being born in a small, middle class town in Canada will be with me forever and ever. This is no reason for me to be ashamed, or excited. We come from where we come from.

There is a richness in the culture here that I haven't been fortunate enough to find in other places. We went to the temple a few nights ago, a big group of English speaking, mostly white Canadians. To see people respect traditions, to respect religion, to so fully commit to their deities and ritual, was amazing. A woman turned to me, as I was walking around, and explained that the belief is that the huge marble in the centre of the temple was carved from just one stone. I thanked her for telling me, and she said, "you're welcome, I'm proud of my traditions, my country." Just like that.

In Canada, what do we have that is equivalent?

I suppose that Canadians are building a cultural identity, how can we expect to have strong roots, ties and rituals when our country is so young? My traditions stem from the traditions of my parents, which stem from their parents, which stems from European traditions. And when I say traditions, all I am really thinking of is Christmas, Easter, religious holidays, when I wouldn't consider us a religious family. As a young woman who is currently being educated, and who has opportunity to sit down and think about this... does it even matter? Am I ashamed to be Canadian? Not at all. Am I ashamed to be from a place where we run around, claiming to be socially aware and conscious, but wearing shoes sewn by underpaid children in a South American sweat shop? Yeah, sometimes.

Ignorance probably is bliss. And no matter how much I read, I'll still be ignorant to the realities of the lives of some people.

We were participants in Christ College's First Annual International Human Rights Film Festival. There are a few that are definitely worth checking out, that remind me that as a young person in a young nation, we have yet to have to fight for basic rights. There are, of course, violations of human rights across the globe, Canada being no exception. But we don't have to ban together for work, for democracy, for water or food or homes.

My favourite documentary today was called " The Take", a Canadian documentary about Argentinian workers who re-open factories collectively to find work.

That's my long and garbled thought of the moment, all that.
Still happy to be here, sore from the installation, and interested to see what comes next.