About a year ago I wrote a book review of Eat, Drink, and Be from Mississippi by Nanci Kincaid. It’s a love letter to a state and a culture that a brother and sister left behind in pursuit of dreams housed elsewhere. Their nostalgia and pride felt for their home seeps through in every line.
Last night while watching the Opening Ceremony of the Vancouver Winter Olympics I felt that same kind of pride and nostalgia that most certainly was felt in the heart of every Canadian. Earlier that day I had emailed with my friend, Derek, quite possibly the proudest Canadian there is. This morning I received a long, multi-paragraphed email from him recounting his favorite details of the ceremony. I love being an American, though there’s something about Derek’s pride, the pride of every Canadian, that sometimes makes me wish I was even just part Canadian.
At Darden, I sat next to a friend of mine from Vancouver. I’ve never been and when I asked him what it was like, he called it “the Paris of Canada.” And I love Paris. Since then, I’ve been fascinated with that city. I had planned to go about 18 months ago when I was in Seattle for a wedding. Because I had just gotten a new job, I had to sadly lob off the Vancouver portion of my trip. This year, I’m going. After those opening ceremonies, I have to see a city that inspired a show at once so grand and so intimate.
Despite that I grew up in the mountains, I’ve never been skiing or snowboarding or even snowshoeing. It’s sad really. And I have to do something about that. I think this is going to be my year to take to the snow and to get that rush that an entire nation feels when they just think of that luscious white powder. If I can’t be a Canadian, I at least want to be able to walk in their shoes (or ski boots as the case may be) for a while.
As always, the Olympics has arrived exactly when we need it most. For a few weeks, we can turn our attention and focus to the exhibition of excellence and triumph and determination. We can look at the gritty, grinning, and unflappable athletes with awe and admiration. For 17 days, we can be inspired by hope and gorgeous performance. As K.D. Lang sang with such passion last night, “Hallelujah”.
Christa Avampato 