Christmas in Canada: Food, Family, Fun & Frostiness

My Canadian Christmas was a marvelous time of all things merry & traditionally Christmas-like. It was celebrated in a series of family events.

The first was celebrated with my immediate family, all but one member, as Josh celebrated in Juba this year, joining us virtually for part of the evening. We had an exquisite dinner in Havilah & Scott's new home, which has been undergoing a magnificent transfiguration, and was made livable and ready for such an occasion just in the nick of time.

Exceptional lamb-roast dinner by Havilah.

Then, in the spirit of Christmas surprises, we put on our elf-like thinking caps and planned some home-makeover projects for the grandfolk in our lives.

For Nanna, a much pined-for fireplace (it's electric,
but it still feels very cozy) and a newly arranged
living-room to accommodate it.

For Grandma & Grandpa, new lift recliners
set up in a more ergonomically-correct tv room.

Next on the family fun schedule, Christmas Eve with Grandma & Grandpa Jespersen.

A special day kicked of so perfectly with grandma's
special waffles with raspberries and cream fresh from the dairy.

Grandpa & Dad exchange stories while I focus on the waffles.
(While simultaneously listening, of course.
I wouldn't miss a good storytelling from Grandpa J, the story master.)

Grandma J, the waffle master.

Grandpa J, looking handsome
in his Christmas tie, ready for church.

Next event, Christmas morning at Nanna's house.

Stocking bears all ready for their annual big day.

Nanna with all the grandkids.

Snowy berries on crisp Christmas day walk.

Post-dinner family fun the Ford-Stonehocker way.
Ridiculous games, greedy gift exchange & family film time.

Next event: Boxing Day with the Jespersen family.

Post-dinner family bonding & presents for the little people.

Post-Christmas fun: Skating & Cinema in the City

The fam on ice.

The fam in action.

What grandmother's do when the Christmas hooplah is over.

More Post-Christmas fun: Scrabble, Sushi & Sauna Night

2 intensely competitive simultaneous scrabble games.

Getting nice & hot in the Sauna.
Sigh...memories of Sudan. In fact, is this the first
time I've felt warm since I've been back??

Getting nice & warm so we can do this!
(Yes, this is the sort of thing Canadians do for fun. Us & the Finns)

"Sauna Extreme Sports" (now an annual event at
the Stonehocker household)

To the hill!

Sledding in style.

Good times were had with friends long-unseen as well. Evidently my family aren't the only ones that like to have fun in creative ways. Here's New Year's Eve: James Bond Theme Party.

The "Bond Sisters": Havilah & I on a brief
foray into the world of international espionage.

My alter-ego: Svetlana, visiting Russian Spy.

And of course, much time was spent embracing (and reminding myself how to embrace) cold cold Canadian winter. It was an exceptionally chilly time, with temperatures averaging around -25-30C, and dropping as low as -41. To survive I quickly remembered & fine-tuned the art of dressing for the cold: layers & layers of down feathers, long underwear perpetually, slippers, blankets, don't forget the touque (Canadian for 'woolly hat'), always a well-wound scarf, & mittens, not gloves. Or simply remember this rule: Degree of puffyness, degree of dorky-lookingness & degree of warm feelings are all tightly correlated. When the coldest of the cold spell subsided, we were dumped upon with snow and snow and snow. At this point I remembered & fine-tuned the art of shoveling snow for each of the homes I've been borrowing beds at: sister's house, Grandma & Grandpa's house & Nanna's house.

But occasionally, one must give in to the irresistible temptation and throw oneself upon the fluffy heaps of snow, lie in its softness, taste the snowflakes & leave your angelic snow impression. It is good.

Juba to Nairobi to Cairo to Baltimore to Vancouver

I had a long journey to my home ('home' being the places my loved ones are in Canada) away from my home ('home' being my work and humble residence and much loved 'family' in Juba).

It was a rather long route, with many stops, but this made for plenty of time for reflection & contemplation, which I find particularly effective at 30,000 feet in the sky, or with the hum of a train engine in the background.

I left Juba with sadness and a hurting heart. My last views of this odd, messy, difficult city, that had changed and changed me immensely since the day I first viewed it from the sky, were smudgy with tears. Over the period of my final weeks in Juba, I became aware of just how strongly attached my heartstrings had become to this place and the people whose lives merged with mine while I was there. Their elasticity has since been tested (a global nomad essential trait).

My last view of Juba on the Nile.

First stop on my debriefing journey to home away from home, was Nairobi. Here I stayed with one of our former staff & dear friends, and visited my sweet little namesake.

Little Kendrah in Kenya, with big sister Erin.

Next stop was Egpyt. This week-long interlude had originally been included primarily to allow for some good sibling bonding time with my brother on his R&R, and to allow me to see Egypt for the first time with Josh, who is well familiar with Egypt, as my guide. BUT - on occasion, career comes before family (no, I'm not bitter...) and Josh got a promotion...and had to go on a trip...and I was abandoned...to travel to Egypt as a single woman, all alone...with no time to plan a fun-filled itinerary beforehand.

Well, dear ol' dad came to my assistance, and researched packaged tour options for me. Yes, I cringed, "not a packaged tour! - I'm not that kind of traveller!". But given the circumstances, it seemed the best option, so I signed up. And a few days later....

Voila. At the pyramids.

Here's where I realize I have a confession to make. I have a traveller superiority complex. Not the kind of complex that means I have to stay in a certain standard of hotel, or always properly wash and peel my vegetables (I'm not very good at that), but rather, the contrary: I take pride in "roughing it" as a traveller. I pride myself on packing light, staying at the cheapest hotel or hostel, memorizing the map so I don't have to pull it out on the street corner and look lost, not snapping the cheesy posed photo at the most touristy site together with the masses, reading up in my Lonely Planet Guide ahead of time, so I miraculously know "all" the secrets to getting along in a new country & appear very wise to other travellers....etc. I secretly look down upon "obvious tourists" - especially the ones driven around in tour busses that wear name badges.

Views like this are ones I try to avoid while travelling.

When I arrived in Cairo, a man met me at the airport with a sign with my name on it. I admit, I was kind of excited about that, as I've secretly always wanted to have my name on one of those signs. But then I had to swallow my pride as my badged helper proceeded to loudly guide me through the airport, tell me what to do with my passport, carried my luggage, etc. (I know how to do all that! I'm a "seasoned traveller" I protested internally). He then guided me to my personal driver, in my personal tour van.

At this point, I gave myself a little reprimand for being so silly about being proud of my "humility" as a traveller, and told myself that on this trip I would need to give in, embrace, and just enjoy having everything catered for. Yes...I'm a fully capable independant traveller, but there's a time and a place for just paying money and having the full package taken care of for you. This was my time and place.

With that, I started to revel in the experience, and quite frankly, I didn't have the energy in me to do it all myself this time anyhow.

I had assumed that I would be joined by my fellow tourists on my tour the next morning. But to my surprise, it turned out I was the only tourist on my tour. This meant that for the duration of my time in Egypt, I had my own personal driver, personal historical tour guides, personal aids to get me from hotel to train station or help me find a place to eat, and an itinerary that was flexible around my every whim. I was a princess... and it was kind of nice.

Here's my personal tour van (thankfully not a full massive bus!).
Appropriately named "Pink Flower Travel" for my 'princess experience'.

The famous sphynx. And it really is impressive.

My favourite photo from Egypt:
A group of giggling Egyptian classmates, all dolled-up for their
Cairo fieldtrip, who were very excited to interview me with their
5 limited sentences of English, while snapping photos inches from
my face with their mobile phone cameras. They were thrilled when
I asked if I could take their photo.

I was facinated by the hyrogliphics and detailed ancient etched art,
and the fact that so much incredibly antiquated history is retold here.

Farmer bringing home lotus flowers and the produce of his harvest.

The tally of a nobleman's posessions on his tomb.
Let's see...that's 4 ducks, 1 basket, 4 cows, 1 snake with little horns...

Lovely goose and rabbit. Incredible detail.
And baffling that it's still so clear & well preserved.

The early pyramids - before they figured out how to
build a good pyramid. These ones don't make it to the
postcards as often.

The Pharoahs were intimidating chaps.
Consider: a man who requires thousands of slaves
to work for most of his lifetime to build him the perfect
tomb...or who has statues 5 times his size erected of
himself, with intricate details and the perfect beard.
No wonder Moses was afraid to talk to the Pharoah.

Luxor: the view from my hotel rooftop.


Incredible ancient structures still standing firm at
the imposing Karnak Temple in Luxor.

Ancient Egyptian lego.

My personal felucca boat on the Nile.

My felucca captain, who invited my 'personal aid'
(a friend of his) and I to his brother's wedding.

Happy at the opportunity to have an "off the tourist track" cultural experience, I hopped on the back of my guide's motorbike (exercising considerable trust) and rode through the narrow alleyways to this wedding party in the street. Here the bride and groom are processing into the party preceeded by exuberant bursts of flares.

I was definately the only foreigner and one of the few non-hijab-wearing ladies at the party. But they were very welcoming, and I was soon drawn in to the hip-shaking dancing by a circle of young women, who may have been conservative in their dress, but certainly not in their dancing.

The next day, it was back with the "herds" of tourists, but nonetheless a very interesting trip to the Valley of the Kings (and I was grateful to have my own guide, and not to be herded about by one of the guides shouting and holding up their group's flag.) And good thing I'm not claustrophobic, because decending into the depths of deep deep tombs, together with several hundred tourists, speaking all different languages, complaining of the heat, and vying for a good vantage point of the hyroglyphics was a little overwhelming.

Queen Hatshepsut's temple. Nice place.

Queen Hatshepsut was a female pharoah who struggled to prove she was as powerful and had as much right to her position as a man. These are statues of her at her temple, all of which show her with a beard. Beard = power. Take note, aspiring female politicians.


Here are some more-feminine statues of the queen's face on 3 separate pilars...sadly, not everything from the past remains in excellent condition. Going...going...gone. (It's really a wonder everything is in such good shape with so many tourists walking all over the buildings, sitting upon and touching things. But kudos to the Pharaohs for truly succeeding in achieving a lasting legacy of thier power via their impressive tombs and funery temples.



Back in Cairo after my tour officially ended, I had one day on my own exploring the market and roaming random streets. I got lost, I missed the company of my 'personal aids', and I had to hail my own taxi! Back to real life.

Next stop: Baltimore. After my time of rest, solitude, introspection, and letting my mind roam to thousands of years ago, I was ready for my official debriefing at the WR headquarters. There I had cathartic conversations with my colleagues who have cared so well for me. It was an excellent time of sharing memories, venting frustrations, lamenting sorrows, and saying farewells.

On the steps of the HQ building, where it all began,
2 years and 1 month ago.

I had come full circle. Here's a flash back to my first
day of work, at this very same spot. Back when I was young & naive...

Blowing a farewell kiss to WR.
(and yes...I'm still pretty young & naive!)

Final stop: Vancouver - into the loving arms of Ma & Pa, survivors of the very same post-Sudan withdrawal/love/guilt/heartache/temperature/workaholic disorders.