Ready, Set, Jump.

Hello, my name is Andrea Wilson.
I live in Toronto, have great job, condo and cosmopolitan lifestyle.
And in less than a month, I'm giving it all up.

I'm leaving my corporate job, the big city life, and 600 thread count sheets. For 1 year.

In 2010 I'm going to try life a little differently. A little simpler. A little slower. Pay a little more attention to the details...to those things that remind us of why we are alive.

I'm going exploring. To find IT. That elusive thing, the knowing, the reason, the why.
To see the world. To meet its people. To help. To learn. To teach. To try.

So many things I've always wanted to do to but never seemed to have the time or opportunity before:
- To live by my rules, not someone else's. (No Outlook Calendar!)
- To wake each day knowing the only boundaries are my imagination and my bank account.
- To try life with less. To lighten my load and loose the "stuff" that weighs me down.
- To see the world's need and try to help.
- To focus on connecting with a higher power and the real reasons we are here.

Am I crazy? Probably. But somehow this feels less crazy than staying in the rat race, tired and wondering what I'm rushing for. So before I run any more, acquire any more or make any permanent decisions.... I'm going to take a chance and see what's out there.
What's life without a little risk?

Destination numbero uno: South America
Departure: February 2010
Budget: Modest
Regrets to-date: None

Andrea

An Aussie Christmas

Why Christmas in the land Down Under? Why Not!? Santa doesn't mind a little sand in his suit does he? More notable is the fact that he does still wear the suit down there. Why Australian children don't think its odd that a jolly fat man needs a fur lined suit to keep warm in a country that is 60F/15C over Christmas??? ...That is a question I may never get a straight answer to. Sweaty Santa and his team of Wombats aside (kidding, they have reindeer too), Australia is an ideal place to spend the holidays.

Here are the top 5 reasons.

5. Meat Pies. We're not talking minced meat here. We are talking single-serving deliciously encrusted combinations of beef and vegetables that are perfect for all occasions. Apparently I had been living under a foodless rock. One night at a "nice-establishment-that-serves-beverages" I found myself in a bet with the Skipper of my recent sailing trip. He said, "Wilson if you are right, I'll buy you a pie!" My first thought showed the Iowa roots..."fruit pie?" No, that couldn't be right...I had watched enough Sorpranos.... of course, a pizza pie! You can imagine my surprise when I claimed my prize (of course I won) and it was really more of what I knew as a "pot pie."
Call it what you want. I call it delicious.

4. Fun and Games with Local Dialect. Some call French a lazy-tongued language. They have nothing on the Australians. These people are so creatively lazy, they don't even finish their words. Imagine this, I'm standing in line for an intra-country flight from Cairns to Brisbane when I turn around and see a huge burly man wearing a safari cap. Its clear he is a local. Before I have a chance to wonder if he has a knife, he cracks a smile and says "So are you headed to Brisy for Chrisy?" I'm dumbfounded that white Mr. T is talking like a five-year-old school girl however it just reminds me of another reason I love Oz. They wear "swimmers" in the ocean or "cozzies" (short for costume). "Sunnies" to protect your eyes. And make sure the "mozzies" don't bite you at night. If English is your second language, bring a translator. If its not play along! Speaking Ozzie is more fun than bingo.

3. Adventure. Its always at your finger tips in Oz. Skiing, skydiving, bungee jumping, sailing, scubadiving, bushwalking, cliff jumping, para-gliding, white water rafting. The only advice is to make sure you do this stuff with a reputable company. Remember, kids on spring break have to make money too and all it takes to start a bungee jumping business is a sign, a big ladder a long rope. (hopefully for your sake, not too long)

2. Beaches. Mexico has nothing on this place! Australia is the largest island in the world (if you want to argue that a continent is not an island, stop reading this blog and go find friends) To be clearer, if you add up the mainland coastline: 35877km + the islands = 23859km then the total coastline of OZ is over 59736km. Thats a lot of beach to be visiting.

1. Laid Back Lifestyle. Try to rile an Ozzie. I dare you. Aside from raising the price of beer I'm not sure its possible. And if you do manage to rile a local up, a bit of further exploration will probably prove to show that European heritage is not to far in their past. The real natives really live the no worries life style. So if you are looking to kick back, stare at nature, and leave your troubles behind, well do it somewhere else because everyone there is at the bar having a drink. :)


In all fairness and honesty to the tourism industry, here are the top 5 reasons not to go Down Under for the holidays.

5. There is no snow
4. 9 of the 10 most deadly animals on earth
3. English expats (a joke)
2. Great white shark attacks that supposedly never happen but then happen while you are there.
1. Vegemite (don't be swayed, it tastes like moldy dirt paste)

The New Age of Judaism

Today is Rosh HaShanah, the Jewish New Year. My friend Marla is Jewish and yesterday while we were shopping I asked her about the Jewish high holidays and how her family celebrates. Having once worked with an Orthodox Jew while living in Manhattan, I at least knew that October was a big month to be Jewish. Seth was a great guy and I loved working with him however by the end of October I was ready to ask for his month's salary since he had missed 90% of it.

Marla, however, isn't Orthodox; her family is more Reform. They go to temple on holidays and have the big family dinners to celebrate. She explained that Rosh HaShanah is the start of the holidays and the celebration of the New Year while Yom Kippur, the next holiday, is the day you repent for all wrong doings in the past year. One day of repentance for everything! I told Marla I might need more than a day but she said one was good enough and then its a clean slate. I think the Jews are on to something here.

When it comes to learning about someone else's family traditions, as usual, I was most interested in the culinary side of things. Marla's mom hosts the family holiday dinners and prepares for months in advance. Marla rattled off a list of food items I had never heard of but all sounded delicious. Consequently I got my name in early for leftovers the next day at work.

I told Marla that she had better start learning the recipes and techniques now because she would need to pass them on to her family; she would be the one in the kitchen while all the relatives were gathering in the living room. Marla, walking with her designer leather bag and as-always great shoes, looked over at me and said "Oh, NO....Not a chance. I don't cook, I call. I will speed dial my cell phone to the best Jewish bakery in Toronto. I'm a New Age Jew."

Honk for a Win

Living in America you may not realize that right now lives are being changed, dreams are being shattered, and pride is on the line. For the Europeans, that is. Its the Euro 2008 tournament for football (you know it as soccer) and things are just starting to heat up.

While you may not know this is going on, living in Toronto where half of the city is of European decendents, and more than likely only one generation back, I am reminded of it daily. Tonight for instance I know that Spain was victorious over Sweden. I know this without turning my television or radio. I know this without checking the internet or calling a friend. I know this because honking horns and yelling in the streets signals a game has just finished and a step out onto my balcony shows that the more debaucherous celebration is coming from all of the red jersey touting revelers. Also because all of the honking is coming from cars with Spanish flags waving in the wind on both sides. And the street suddenly seems to have dissolved of any blue and yellow.

In Toronto. it is customary after big wins to get in your car- flags out and windows down- and drive around for hours just honking and reminding everyone that your team was victorious and therefore your country is better. ( In Europe where it is less diverse by city, they just drive around to remind themselves of their greatness. ) Hooting, hollering, and heckling is common.


Team pride is not a thing to be taken lightly. Men gain or loose bragging rights for years to come based on these games. During the world cup last year, an Italian friend told me that a loss by Italy at the hands of Portugal meant his coffee bill on the job would be triple for the next year.

For most Americans, nationalistic pride is tied to music, fashion and politics. For European Torontonians, it all comes down to the next two weeks and the results from 200 or so men slogging it out on the field. Crazy? Maybe. Exciting? Definitely.

Politically Out of Context

Tonight during my Yoga class the instructor was having us do an exercise that included punching the air to strengthen our arms. She said, "punch harder...think of something you really hate..." then she paused a minute trying to think of something we would all collectively agree on hating. She suddenly smiled and said, "Think of Bush!"

Welcome to being an American in Canada. And Yoga is where people are most relaxed. :)

I try to refrain from being political in this blog because the goal is an outlet for cultural learning. That said, the election has gone on so long and between CNN running stories 24/7 and Time/Newsweek/The Economist finding a new way to squeeze another story out every issue, people are tired of it. And it makes us Americans look a bit like self obsessed nincompoops. Whether you were/are pro Bush, I think we can all collectively agree that it is time for something new so everyone can quit hashing it out.

I look forward to the election, if for no other reason so that when I tell people I"m American, they won't feel the need to remind me of these things anymore.

Accent or Evidence?

When people in Toronto find out I'm from the States, they often comment on my accent. Its a dead even race on whether I do or don't have an apparent American accent- well that is until I ham it up to really show how obvious it would be if I wasn't a verbal chameleon. (when I head back to the State, everyone laughs and says I sound like a real Canuck.)

Today heading out for the streetcar to work I met Trina, one of my neighbors. A gem of a girl with the prettiest eyes, Trina's family originally hails from Trinidad.

After work I ended up on the same streetcar home as her so we called it fate and had a beer on the patio. Later when her parents joined us they too commented on my accent. Trina,s dad, Nigel, told a story of how an accent can mean a lot more in Trinidad than just laughs. He explained that the island to the north, Grenada, was not as prosperous and industrial as Trinidad so many of those islanders snuck down to Trini to work in better conditions even though it was technically illegal. And most of them blended in pretty well from an appearance standpoint...only thing was the Grenadians had a bit of a different accent. It wouldn't come out in the everyday conversation but the police coming around to check on the authenticity of workers knew exactly which words were giveaways. They didn't ask for papers or passports...they simply had the potential squatters read a sentence or two with the word "box" in it. If they said it correctly with a long o, they were legitimate Trinis. If it came out more like "bax" (think Boston) then they were sent on a boat right back to Grenada. "Grenadians," Nigel explained, "can't say box. They just can't."

At least in my case, the discovery of my accent and its accompanying heritage only gets me some riling political comments and good hearted American jeering. OK, sometimes not always good hearted but hey that's politics. :)

Who Wants To Buy Japanese Toilet Seats?!

Everyone has heard of craigslist.com...the free classified website for easy buying and selling of everything from furniture and apartment rentals to pets. When I lived in the states, most of the posts were something like this "Oak bookstand originally from Target, mint condition, best offer." In Toronto, many of the items being sold tend to have a bit more history to them. Check out a few I found while searching for a couch to buy:

Persian Carpet, 100% silk

Purchased a silk Persian carpet in Dubai, UAE earlier this year. Turns out that the money would be better spent on home repairs than on high end floor coverings. This is a unique piece of artwork: Red&Gold, 100% silk, 5x7 feet with authenticity paperwork available. Hand made in the holy Iranian city of Qum by the Eyani family, whose name is woven into the carpet itself. Thread count is approximately 750 per square inch which is a very high raj count. Overall it is one of the finest capets available!

Scandinavian Mid-Century Modern Flat Weave Carpet - $350

A boldly graphic vintage Scandinavian flat weave carpet from the mid to late 1960's. The pattern of green checks within circles on a blue field is inverted on the other side, a green field with identical blue pattern. The colors are of the national flag. The design represents the character of our people.

Danish Desk
I have this very nice vintage danish teak desk. This desk is over 40 years old and still in very good condition. It has six drawers on it. Three drawers on each side. The two top drawers have lockers in them but sorry No keys. This teak desk has NO stains, No scratches, NO dents, NO marks any where on it. It came over on a boat from Denmark with my family when we moved to this country. It is stamped on the bottom of it "made in Denmark".