Life from Canada to Latin America, one word at a time.
When I was growing up, Canada Day meant a giant cake in the park, face painting, and a parade featuring kids on bikes and all three of the fire trucks. Sometimes, there were even potato sack races and candy tosses. This year, I painted my face and straightened my hair. I hobbled around in stilettos,
During my first real brush with culture shock in Colombia, I ended up sitting on a bag of cabbages in the back of a truck and sobbing. It was the last day of the Mampujan march and the whole process had challenged my idea of organization and logistics. We had survived the planning beforehand, the
Before coming to Colombia, I spent a summer working with an Aboriginal women’s group in the Yukon. I thought I knew things, but one of the greatest lessons I learnt was how little I actually did. As I researched and read, I learnt more deeply about the realities of missing and murdered Aboriginal women, colonialism,
