I took a step back after a few weeks at this new job and evaluated what I liked and didn’t like about it. I loved helping people verbalize their fitness goals and suggesting strategies on how they could reach them.  But, despite the aspects of the job that I loved, like goal setting, I still disliked the pressure of having to meet standards.

When someone goes to a gym, he or she often has a fitness goal in mind, something they are making thoughtful steps and choices towards reaching. Not once did I have someone come into the gym saying, “I would like to reach this standard.” A goal can be something personal and can have checkpoints that make you feel a sense of pride or happiness when you reach them. Where as when you fall short of meeting a standard you are often left feeling disappointed and discouraged.

I am someone who finds goal setting really important.  I find if I write down my goals I am more likely to achieve them. Goals can be large or small and can be broken down into steps. For example, this past semester I took a systemic physiology class.  I took a similar class last year and I knew I was going to struggle with it.  I wrote down the letter grade I wanted to get in the class. I am not someone who is super “grade” focused, but I knew if I didn’t have a goal in mind for this class I wouldn’t give it much priority. My first step was to write down all the things I could do to help me achieve my letter grade goal. These included staying on top of the course readings, doing all the optional assignments, meeting with my teacher regularly to go over confusing material and getting a tutor. Establishing steps was a great way to help me achieve my goal. I also found my self planning my study time better and really taking time to learn the material rather then just memorize it.  Thanks to all my planning and hard work, this goal was achieved and I felt as though I learned a lot about the course and benefits of goal setting in the process.

So with all that being said, this job and other experiences in my life have taught me a lot about the importance of setting goals and the value of breaking down your goals into steps you feel like you can achieve, while still feeling challenged.  It also confirmed the importance of not wasting time trying to meet other people’s standards.

I am a Grouse Mountain dispatcher – essentially, I am the 9-1-1 and 4-1-1 and BCAA of the mountain. If anything breaks, I know; if anyone is injured, I know; if the Quiksilver cube got pushed down the hill again, I know; if the brand new skier drops their poles off the chairlift, I know. Not only am I made aware of all of these events and much more, but I get to delegate who/where/when these situations are dealt with. I love my job! I’m always thinking on my feet, every day is different, my limits are always pushed. However, at the end of a shift, regardless of how frantic the day turned out to be, I return to that space where I began my day – instead of a moon reflected walk, I strap in my snowboard and head down the hill.

There is nothing more peaceful…or exhilarating…than finding fresh tracks, untouched powder, for me to destroy. My love for snow filled adventures has also filled my life with amazing people. I have met my closest friends on a chairlift! When anyone lands a natural drop or successfully completes a backside rodeo, cheers and whoops spread like wildfire, even a good bail gets attention! However, working in the same atmosphere we love adds a lot of pressure – bad weather days, injuries, budgets, staff shortages – we see it all. To make up for it, there is one weekend every year where the whole team, the entirety of Mountain Operations, creates magic! This weekend is known as Showdown Over the City. Showdown is one of Canada’s top snowboarding competitions, sponsored by Quiksilver, attracting both amateur and professional riders from all over North America. The two weeks leading up to the event consist of demanding overtime, graveyard shifts, meetings, and the occasional moment of self doubt. We are all involved but the credit is due to the Park Team. The Grouse Mountain Park Team consists of ten staff, and a handful of volunteers. I’m proud to say that this group of people are some of my most cherished relationships.

Thursday, one day until Showdown begins, the intensity is high – I’m ecstatic and thoroughly impressed with everything the group has created thus far; the weather forecast is for sun – both a positive and negative aspect to a competition. The work day is busy – constant transport of materials, setting up the spectator gardens, restocking on salt and board wax; we all put in overtime hours and head to bed early, aware of the two arduous days to follow.

Friday morning arrives – we begin the day with film crews and last minute touches before the riders arrive. Beautiful blue bird skies and warm temperatures are exactly what the spectator’s desire; however, our concern slightly rises. The rider’s course quickly becomes slow as the snow becomes soft. I send down seven bags of salt for with one of the boys; salt laps approximately every 20 minutes and 14 bags of salt for the three hour open practice. We rush to set up the park hut as a waxing station. With an influx of 16 amateur riders needing waxes, and the rail jam about to begin, our Terrain Park Supervisor has his mobile to his ear and two radios both paging his number, all while re-arranging the judging station. The rail jam proceeds with two runs per rider; the day finishes ahead of schedule, and we call it a night, apprehensive for tomorrow.

We arrive before sunrise while the snow is still hard, hoping to reshape and spork the features before the temperature rise. We watch daybreak colour the sky, and the frenzy ensues. Adrenaline filled bodies operate the mountain with nonstop radio traffic, helicopter film crews, salt laps, chairlift lines, first aid, security, and one police visit. The spectator garden entertains the industry old-dogs, future prospects and the occasional lurker soaking up some vitamin D. Each rider receives 2 runs consisting of a 65 foot tabletop into a 75 foot table, followed by a rail jib. The slope style competition exhibited amazing talent! The day ended with exhausted and happy staff.

Chills went through my spine as we congratulated each other – I’ve never felt such a monstrous sense of pride. To create something with such passion is truly a wonder. Surrounded by my closest friends, the sun on my face and snow beneath my feet, I am at the roots of my own paradise.

I’m sitting in an old creaky chair in the basement of my childhood home, the reality of my life slowly filtering through my chemistry studying, torque calculating, fashion show preparing brain. Graduation is pending in the near future and I’m faced with decisions I’ve been preparing to make for many years.

I’ve always been independent, outgoing and excited about my future. My goals have been clear for as long as I can remember, and yet, when the time comes to make them happen, I’m worrying and fretting and overthinking all those things I took for granted.

Spending time writing this is me procrastinating what I came to the computer to do. I can hear my parents upstairs cooking and chatting with CBC radio in the background. I have a letter, addressed to me from a university, sitting in front of me, urging me to stop looking for excuses and get on it.

I thought which university to go to would be an easy thing to decide. My plan was to apply to the three universities I was interested in, and see who offered me a larger scholarship; simple. Things became more complicated when I stopped considering it as a financial statement and instead as a home, as somewhere I would live and learn.

My home has always been importantto me. I live in a small town of 2000 people – I was born and raised here, and I’ve only recently come to realize how much I appreciate it. With this realization came the discovery of how important my ‘space’ is. Where I live, who I spend time around, where I spend time, what I do wherever I am… And so I discovered that one of the universities I applied to wasn’t fitting for me. This university also happened to offer me 4 years of tuition, plus travel and textbook allowances. I made my decision to decline the scholarship three days ago and have yet to write the email to let them know. I can’t stop rethinking and worrying and wondering and pondering and wasting time and energy thinking about all the ‘what if’s.’

But alas, here I am, rambling away, and preparing myself to make my first palpable decision toward my post-secondary education. I’m going to enjoy university, regardless of where I end up, and I know it will be a memorable experience. Those are facts. I also know that no matter how many times I write out an indecisive list of pros and cons, I will eventually manage to make my decision.

So here’s to growing up, breathing, and decision making.

All the best to all those in the same leaky boat,

Lauren

And didja know that this is all possible because of an long history of students getting involved and taking action?

I didn’t know any of this either, until last year when the Quebec government announced that it was going to increase the price of university by 75% over the next 5 years. Suddenly, I was in the middle of an epic battle. Now, I could go into all the arguments for and against the tuition hikes and spend a lot of time explaining why I think the cost of education should stay low – but you can do your own research on that if you’re interested (check out the links at the bottom of this post). What I really want to talk about what it’s been like to be a part of one of the biggest student movements in Quebec history (and that’s saying something!).

Ever since the announcement came a year ago that tuition would be going up, student groups have been protesting – getting their voices heard by marching in the streets, wearing red squares and writing letters to the government. It wasn’t working… there wasn’t a single peep in response. So, what do unions do when their needs are being unfairly ignored? What is the ultimate pressure tactic for an institution who’s bottom line is their only real concern? How have Quebec students succeeded in freezing tuition in the past? There’s one answer: WE GO ON STRIKE.

It sounded like a sure-fire plan. Quebec students have been on strike 8 times in the past 40 years, and it’s nearly always succeeded. It sounded almost too easy. Steps to victory: 1. vote for a strike, 2. don’t go to class, 3. organize government ass-kicking actions instead.

It was so empowering to feel that we were a part of a massive movement: over 300,000 students at universities and CGEPs (college for grades 12 and 13) all across the province were on strike. It made sense to stand up for what I believe in by joining the already powerful movement. What we didn’t count on was how complicated the strike would be at Concordia, where I go to school. This was the first time an anglophone university has ever been on strike (Hurrah!), but that meant that there was a serious lack of understanding and support from administration and many students. It has lead to a lot more conflict among ourselves than we’d expected, and a lot of energy has been spent working out how to heal relationships and survive the semester instead of figuring out how to bust the government’s plans.

I’m lucky enough to be studying something that lends itself perfectly to political engagement: my program is all about how theatre can be used for personal and social change (SO COOL). So instead of going to class to learn about Theatre of the Oppressed, we got together in a parking lot and MADE theatre about what we were experiencing in the strike. We hosted workshops for others who were going through the same things. We did performances in the street to raise awareness for the movement in peaceful and visually stunning ways.

Some examples:

A bunch of people wearing red lying down in a square formation outside the premier’s office

A silent line of people walking so slowly that it takes an hour to travel half a block, holding a sign that says “don’t slow down our education;”

Radical cheerleading to keep up morale and get away with saying some pretty sassy rhymes;

An army of clowns marching alongside a 30-ft long giant “bookworm for education” at the biggest rally of them all, March 22nd;

And we were by far not the only ones doing artistic actions. The creativity that has sprung from this situation has been incredible. The whole city is covered in red. I feel like my own creativity has been woken up – suddenly there’s a need to respond to something tangible in my own life, and it’s an immediate need, no time to waste! Create, create, create! Knit, write, perform! Not to say that artistic interventions are the most important – every movement needs its fact-finders and logistics organizers and motivational speakers and cooks (snacks are oh so important) – but when it comes to catching and holding the attention of the public, is there anything more effective than a giant puppet? Seriously.

We still don’t know if our protests will have any effect on the government’s decision. They haven’t even agreed to talk to students about the increases yet. But this movement is too important and has gained too much momentum to just peter out. We will keep fighting and keep creating for as long as it takes.

***

Some (biased – from the student’s perspective – yet well-researched) background on the current strike:

Unlimited General Strike

Collective Means Collective Futures

On March 9^th, The YES staff team rushed around grabbing knives, and pots and cutting boards eager to get started on their dish. It was Staff Retreat Weekend and the Hunger Games had begun.  Herbs were flying, onions tears were rolling down cheeks, and people looked with puzzlement at their ‘secret’ ingredients.

The theme was Mexican, and four teams were created to make a meal for the 20 or so staff present.  Each team was allowed to bring whatever ingredients and recipes they wanted, but had to be ready for the 4-5 ‘secret’ ingredients that I would provide them.  These ingredients had to be both present, and prominent in their dishes.

The Entrée District had been given a pineapple, limes, cilantro and a whole Red Snapper as their secret ingredients.  Cody was busy stuffing an apple in the snapper’s mouth, and decorating it with lime slices.

Team Insulin (Desserts), already having shown up with a recipe for Mexican donuts was trying to figure out how to incorporate Mascarpone cheese, cinnamon sticks, husked coconuts and passion fruits into the dish.

Sides started boiling their wild rice, chopping their mangoes and shallots, and forgot about their oyster mushrooms for the time being, while appetizers began to construct an avocado fruit salad and chipotle salsa.

I was traveling around between the groups, offering help, chopping fruits, and answering questions.  “How do you know when the fish is done?”, “What’s a passion fruit and how do you use it?”, “How much jalapeno is too much?”

I grew up in a family that highly valued food. Dinner each night included a healthy meal, cooked with whole foods, and with love. My parents, sister and I would sit down together, discuss our days, and eat a variety of vegetables, proteins and salad. Always salad.

Beyond our meals together, my education in food came from our ever-present garden.  We always had rows of lettuce, beets, carrots, peas, beans, broccoli, herbs, tomatoes, peppers, strawberries, and more.

My mom was also always very interested and knowledgeable about the healing and nutritional properties of food.  I grew up knowing that beets are high in iron, bananas contain potassium, and yogourt is full of healthy bacteria.

I think that it was these three components: our family dinner table, our garden, and nutritional health that began my passion for food and cooking.

I have worked in a few kitchens.  Most notably at Radha, a vegan and raw-food restaurant in Vancouver’s China Town area.  It was there that I started to learn more chef skills, like how to handle a knife, and what ‘julienning’ meant.  Also, during my time living on Maui I had the pleasure of catering a yoga retreat for 18 people.  It was there that I got to practice ‘plating’, and really honed my skills for cooking multiple dishes, for multiple diets.  This job was particularly hard, and also rewarding seeing as we were working in an outdoor kitchen, on a cliff overlooking the ocean in one of Hawaii’s most remote locations.

It was there that I got to pick beans in Woody Harrelson’s biodynamic garden, and get herbs from Laulima – the farm collective across the road, where smoothies are made with a bicycle blender.

I really get excited about cooking.  It’s something that I do in my own life as a creative outlet, and also as a way to build community, and friendships. It’s a way of spreading love as an Act of Service (one of the five love languages), helping to nourish people, offering comfort, creating art, cooperating, and having fun.  It is because of all of these things that I love to get others cooking, trying out new ingredients, overcoming challenges, being creative together, and feeding each other.

The world is in a food crisis, and yet in North America we waste 50% of all of our food.  Some gets wasted before it has even been distributed, tons gets thrown away at the grocery store, more gets wasted in our kitchens, and then more again gets tossed from our plates into the trash.

I believe that we have become disconnected from our food.  When we don’t understand where our food comes from, we don’t know the path it takes to our tables, and we don’t pay attention to where it goes when it’s wasted, how can we make good decisions?

In the developed world, we have 20% of the world’s population, but we are responsible for 80% of the resource consumption, and much of those resources are being wasted

At camp we have a saying, “Take what you need, and eat what you take.”  I would like to continue that food waste challenge, forever, but I’d also like to propose a new challenge: make and eat a meal with the people you love. It’s that simple.

If you do this, please send a picture, and a short paragraph to info@theyes.ca and we’ll post them in an upcoming blog.

The YES Staff made the most amazing, nutritious, delicious and creative Mexican Meal I have ever had the pleasure of eating. Red Snapper avec pomme, four kinds of Guacamole (using 20 avocados), avocado fruit salad, mango salsa, raspberry salsa, chipotle salsa, fresh tomato salsa, two kinds of Spanish rice, beans, beef, 3 kinds of tortillas, oyster mushrooms with caramelized onions and salad.  Always salad.

The Hunger Games were a complete success, and we ate together as a staff family.

So, you’ve been presented with an incredible opportunity from your school, community or an outside company. Be it a scholarship, an exchange or overseas volunteer work, you’ve realized it’s perfect for you and you really want to take part in it. Then, just as you sit down to apply for this dream come true, you’re hit with a world of bureaucratic paper work. Forms. Deadlines. Reference letters. Applications fees. Those horrible essays where you have to describe how you’ll benefit from the program. “Noooooooo!’ you cry, as you start to desperately rip the application in half.

This is a classic case of the Paper Man (the world of boring tedious paper work) keeping you from doing what you want to do, and it’s something I had to overcome when applying to go on exchange in England. It can be hard (I may or may not have had nightmares about being eaten alive by monstrous foolscap paper stacks) but here are some tips on how to stick it to the Paper Man and get through that mountain of paper work as stress free as possible.

1. Keep a planner.

This seems simple but with so many deadlines it’s crucial to keep track of them all by writing them down and checking your planner everyday. Don’t get surprised and find out that your application is due tomorrow, or worse, yesterday!

2. Plan ahead

This goes along with the planner. Do you need a reference from a teacher? Ask them right now, while you’re thinking about it. The sooner you put things into motion the less stress you’ll deal with later on.

3. Write a good SPECIFIC to do list

By writing down specific tasks like “make photocopies of ID ” instead of “apply for a student Visa” you have reachable goals and can start to tick things off. This way, when you’re starting to feel overwhelmed, you can do the little things (like getting passport photos or making the facebook event page for your goodbye party!) and feel like you’re making some progress.

4. Essay writing – speak the truth

Personal essays are always my least favorite part of applying for thing. They seem silly and like just another hoop to jump through. But what I’ve found is that they can be a really great opportunity to take some time to ask yourself, “why do I actually want to do this?” Take the time to write down honest answers written in your own words, then take those answers and put them into more professional sentences. Things like “I want to visit where my ancestors came from in Spain” can stay but “I heard UVic is a great party school” can become “I want to experience the vibrant student life that UVic offers”. This way, not only do you get a chance to self reflect, but your essay will be more sincere and personal.

5. Celebrate!

Last but not least is taking the time to remind yourself about why you’re doing all this work! Look up the sights and wonders of the city you’re moving to or talk to other people who have done the same program. By getting excited about what you’re trying to achieve the work will seem well worth it.

If you’ve been following this blog you’ve read some great stories about how feeling your fear and facing it anyways can change your life in amazing ways. Sitting down, organizing yourself and putting the effort into the boring paper work of applications is yet another way to do this. I can’t tell you how proud I was when I got through the stressful maze of forms and Visa applications! Now, I’m sitting in a teashop in Brighton UK while writing this, half way through what is shaping up to be one of the best experiences of my life. So don’t let the Paper Man keep you down. He’s only made of paper after all, and you, you’ve got amazing things to do.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the future. To me, thinking more than a month in advance gets a little scary. I don’t know what my summer plans are, where I’ll be living, or whether or not I will be able to do camp this year. I worry a lot about my generation and future generations, and how we are becoming disconnected from the natural world. Who knew that if you want a good summer job you should apply in January? You need to apply for scholarships many months in advance? You need to figure out where to live ahead of time? You need to think about what you want to do in the future? Are we going to destroy the planet? Can I make a difference? Will we ever learn? What is this “future” and when do we get there? Is it some technological paradise where we all drive flying cars? Who knows! I’m turning twenty this year, and I am so scared: I don’t feel ready to grow up. It feels as though important decision after important decision is being thrown at me, and I don’t know how to respond to any of them. As scary as all this stuff seems to me though, I’ve come up with a new way to think of the future.

Since I can’t look forward in time yet (I’m working on it) I’ve started looking back, and I’ve tried to see things with a longer view. It’s astounding how the world has

Banting & Best: discoverers of insulin

changed. Just over a hundred years ago, airplanes and cars did not exist. Insulin had not been discovered. A hundred years is not much longer than an average canadian life, and in that time the world has undergone extraordinary change, and I don’t just mean in a technological manner. One hundred years ago, if you were anything but heterosexual you would have been physically attacked for it. Similarly, if you weren’t a caucasian male, your rights were almost nonexistent and respect even more so.

Even just looking at my own life, in 19 years a lot has changed: cellphones, the internet, the concept of environmental accountability, social values, individual rights. Everything has moved forward. Five years ago I was a participant at YES, and now I am a staff member helping to make a difference. Every year at camp I see the amazing growth that individuals go through and I am inspired. This is just what’s happened in the last twenty years, who knows what the next twenty hold?

I'm on the left with the awesome haircut.

And the one thing that really resonates with me when I think about all of this? Hope. The world is by no means perfect, but in retrospect, we have come a long way. Sure we stumble around a bit and occasionally take a step backwards, but the general movement is forward. I’m so hopeful for the world we can create.

As for my fears for my own future, I’m trying to make decisions that reflect what I want, not what others expect from me.  It’s hard; I ask myself “What do I really want?” a lot, and it’s pretty difficult for me to figure that out sometimes. But I’m working on it. I’m also trying to stay optimistic about being able to effect a change in the world, especially with respect to the environment. Everyday I hear about incredible environmental works that are going on right now, and I also hear no end of opinions about how climate change isn’t real and environmentalists are idealistic idiots. I just keep telling myself that change is never easy, and people are resistant to give up old comforts for benefits that are not immediately going to benefit them, but that people CAN change.

So now,the future isn’t as scary, its exhilarating. I participated in a compost visioning seminar this november for the new UNBC composting system, and the two things I came away with were excitement and hope. I was participating in creating this incredible future. This is what I want to be a part of! If you feel strongly about this too (and I hope you do!), there are a few links at the end to environmental videos and sites.

Of course there are days where I don’t want to change the world, there are days when all I want to do is curl into a ball and forget about assignments, climate change, jobs, politics, pipelines, and everything else. But now I know that I will be alright, and fretting and stressing about what is to come won’t get me anywhere. There’s no point in being scared; you can’t please everyone, so try to be content with making yourself happy. There’s no point in trying to change the entire world and fix all of its problems in one go. All that any of us can do is work on one or two things at a time and be the best people we can.The world is changing, and not only do we get front row seats to the transformation but we get to participate as well. I’m leaving you with a quote from American Beauty; it really resonates with me lately and captures that feeling of being overwhelmed but simultaneously so happy to be able to experience this crazy world.

“It’s hard to be angry when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes, I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and I can’t take it. My heart swells up like a balloon that’s about to burst. But then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold onto it. And then, it flows through me like rain and I feel nothing but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid life.”

Links to environmental videos and sites:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aO4s4P7eFk4

http://www.storyofstuff.org/movies-all/

http://noimpactman.typepad.com/

http://www.foodincmovie.com/index.php

http://www.cbc.ca/natureofthings/

Each day of peace work at the centre is wildly different from the next. Sometimes I get to help make giant dinners for huge groups of people who are coming together to share a meal for the first time. Sometimes I get to lead workshops on topics like love and self-awareness. Sometimes I get to mop floors, wash dishes, make tea, and chit-chat with people. Sometimes I get to run around in my gumboots dressed up like a sheep, chasing small children under beautiful rainbows on a beautiful green cliff over the Irish Sea. All of the things I get to do are really, really different. What makes these things really all the same is that I do them all with love for the people around me, and love for the world. Love is magic; we know this at the YES Camp.

By shamelessly loving life and being unafraid to show people how much I love love, I help make it okay for the people around me to let themselves do it too. I think that’s something we do really well for each other at camp. Thanks for showing me how so I can help spread it around the world.

It’s always such a struggle for me as I’m digging through “trash”. I find amazing pieces every time and I scream and laugh and hold my treasures above my head like I’m introducing Simba for all of Pride Rock to behold. But then I look around at all the items that will never have a second home. The items that were donated on good faith, by people doing a good thing, and sending their old possessions to be reused, recycled, and re-loved. But instead they end up in the trash and get hauled away to take up precious landfill space. Did I mention that this particular thrift store fills up at least one dumpster every day? That’s far too much for one person to pick through.

So once I became a seasoned thrift store diver, I decided to try my hand at diving for food. I’d heard about people binning for food before but all that I could picture was desperately underprivileged people searching through meager scraps and celebrating over half eaten soggy hamburger remains. I quickly learned that I was greatly mistaken.

I’ve come to think of the dumpster as a garden bed, without the soil. It still has weeds that you have to sort through (wrappers and plastic), but as you dig around, you start to pull out a plethora of fruits and veggies that are always ripe for the harvest, every time. Except this garden bed is not like the beds you’re used to. It’s chock-full of exotic fruit from far away lands, bananas, mangoes and kiwis in December! It’s a Christmas miracle! But fruit is just the beginning. This field grows food from all six-food groups; seven if you include processed candy and treats.

Onto the next question: Why is this food being thrown out?

Most of the food that ends up in the dumpster is there because it is not aesthetically pleasing to the consumer. Maybe it’s a reflection of how our culture views beauty. This has a blemish? I could not possibly want you, you hideous tomato! Give me something firmer and plumper!

But this is the reason for a large percentage of food waste. The produce may get dinged or dropped during transportation or may have something visually undesirable about it.

Another factor is ripeness. When given the option, most customers are not going to choose the fruit that is bursting with immediate ripeness and required to be consumed within a couple of days. More often than not, they are going to choose something with a longer grace period to ensure it doesn’t spoil. This is important to know if you’re ever going to try going for a dive yourself: There is a small window that you have to either cook/preserve/eat your finds or else it will be going straight back to where it came from. But we’ll come back to that later…

An additional reason things are chucked is that they are past their expiry date. I used to think that the expiry date meant that on said day, this item was going to turn from delicious and nutritious, to festering and molding. The expiry date on a package means that this is the last day that this item can legally be sold in stores. After that it must be removed from the shelf and tossed.

The next question that most people ask is: Is it safe to eat?

It’s true that sometimes there are mass recalls on certain products because of some contamination at a processing plant, but the chances of running into these are slim to none. Luckily, if you’re concerned that there is way too much of one product in the dumpster for no apparent reason, you can check this website where the Canadian Food Inspection Agency posts any food recall that has been sent out.

http://www.inspection.gc.ca/about-the-cfia/newsroom/food-recalls-and-allergy-alerts/eng/1299076382077/1299076493846

I’ve only checked this website a handful of times and I’m still alive…

Let’s start at the beginning:

Tools of the Trade:

-       Gloves (dish gloves work great – lots of grip and no dexterity lost!)

-       Clothes you don’t mind getting a little dirty

-       Headlamp (if it’s a night mission)

-       Hand sanitizer or wet wipes (a great alternative you jeans)

-       Long stick with a hook on the end if you don’t want to get right in there

-       Upper body strength (optional) to pull yourself out if your going deep  (I suggest using a milk crate to get in and out)

-       Bike with a good sturdy rack to haul away your loot. (Again, milk crates work great)

-       A car is preferable – lots of cargo space for lots of plunder

Optional (but very helpful)

-       Deep freeze

-       Blender/Food processor (anyone heard of The Ninja? Pure gold!)

-       Dehydrator

-       Pressure cooker for canning

-       CREATIVITY! (When you show up at home with two boxes of peppers, a crate of yogurt, and 50 lbs of eggplant your going to need to think on your feet)

-       A buddy! Diving is much more fun and less intimidating if you’ve got a friend that’s got your back covered. (I guess that goes with most things in life…)
Alright, you’ve got all your gear, you’ve got your buddy at your side. Next, you need to scope your territory. Small markets are the best bet: Natural food stores, Ma and Pa grocery stores, bakeries. As soon as you start getting into big businesses like Save-On Foods and Thrifties, you’re going to run into a divers arch nemesis: the dreaded compactor. When you start dealing with the amount of produce that big supermarkets produce, you also start dealing with the amount of waste that comes hand in hand. The solution to this gigantic amount of waste is the compactor: A behemoth of a machine that resembles a Star Wars Imperial Walker, has food funneled into it all day and then crushes it down into tiny compact pieces.

You’re much better off sticking to the small stores.

Night is a good time to go, as you’ll run into less people, but during the day you don’t need your headlamp. Some stores are fine with people being in their dumpsters, the odd few aren’t so much. Though a confrontation is no big deal if handled properly, you should still try to avoid it. If you’re ever approached while in a bin: smile, say hello and carry on conversation as though there is nothing strange about you rummaging through their garbage. The worst thing that could happen is you’re going to be asked nicely to get out of their dumpster. I’ve had one person tell me that I was stealing from him and that I was on private property (I only agree with one of the accusations). But most places are totally fine with it; some even know me by name and set boxes aside.

Now, keep in mind, you’re in the trash and there is going to be real garbage in there as well as treasures. Don’t go berserk if you find the mother of all ice cream stashes, there could be broken glass inside and you should always exercise caution when rummaging through bags of trash.

The last step: Processing your prize!

You’ve just made a big pull, you’re high fiving with you friends, and you can’t believe what you just scored for completely free. But this food is in its prime right now…

You’ve got to act fast!:

1)   Wash your goods. Run a sink of warm soapy (biodegradable) water with a splash of bleach for good measure (don’t worry, the food you buy in grocery stores is usually treated with bleach anyway unless you’re buying organic). I like to throw in some vinegar, as the acid is an effective disinfectant, deodorizer, and cleanser which also cuts grease and slows down mold and bacteria growth. (Yay vinegar!)

2)   Wash yourself. Your food is clean, now you should be too.

3)   Cook/Eat/Dry/Can/Freeze your goods! This is where the fun and creativity come in. Think of new and awesome ways to consume your goods. Ever tried 100% strawberry juice? Fruit leathers are rad. Soups are simple and delicious.

4)   Pat yourself on the back and high five your pals once more! You’ve just saved possibly hundreds of dollars, had tons of fun doing so, and helped to divert a waste stream!

Dumpster diving can be intimidating if you’ve never done it before! But it becomes a whole lot less intimidating if you do it with company. Find someone else who is interested, or better yet, someone that has done it before to show you the ropes.

I hope this was informative and fueled you with some inspiration to be part of a global solution to a world-wide epidemic.  This is something I’m passionate about and I believe can be safe and eco-friendly when done properly and with respect.

Taste the Waste!

(if you want to learn more about food waste, check out this video about dumpster diving in Quebec!)

Last night I went to see Demetri Martin perform his comedy act at a venue in downtown Vancouver. It had been a pretty good day. I’d spent the morning reading and sipping good coffee from one of my favorite local coffee shops. In the early afternoon I hiked up Lynn Peake with some friends. In the afternoon I made a beastly sized chicken bacon salad with ingredients fresh from a nearby market. It was a wonderful Saturday.

As I walked along Georgia street in the brisk west coast evening, I couldn’t help but notice myself smiling at the strangers passing me by. There was something new about the way I was walking, and for a couple of blocks I couldn’t figure it out. Was it that I was about to endure hours of bust-a-gut comedy in a beautiful theatre? Was it because I was sharing this experience with a friend who loves to laugh just about as much as I do? And then it hit me.

My bounce was back.

The spring in my step, the smooth in my swagger, the attitude in my strut – whatever you want to call it: it was back.

And it was then that I realized…
It’s taken me a long time to get here.

In the last few months of my 2011 – something happened. At first I thought it was the end of semester crazies. Then I thought maybe it was the ‘great adulthood epiphany’ (a mythical type of wisdom that we in our early 20s are rumoured to seek). But it’s the smallest of events that seem to have the most significance. The smallest and the least suspected.

At the beginning of November I took a fall while I was rock climbing. A bad fall. Parallel to the ground and hanging from the ceiling I was reaching for a hold with my right hand when the rock slipped. Picture yourself doing a belly-flop into a pool from the high dive. Now flip your body around so you land with a curved back first. Replace a watery surface with memory-foam mats. Add some body tension and you’ve got yourself a hard fall. The kind of fall that makes a thunderous smacking sound on impact and causes spectators to gasp and grab the first aid attendant.

Stupid ‘Red V3’. I wasn’t even working on that route.

For those of you who know me, you know that climbing has a very large spot in my life. It is my passion. I draw strength, courage, and appreciation through what it offers me. If it were legal and/or possible I would already be married to climbing. 4 lyfe. And I would make a very good wife and we would grow very old together.

Unfortunately, I don’t handle injury easily (at least not my own injuries). For me it’s an emotional process. Stages 1-6 are all the same: denial. Utter and complete denial. As if I can get hurt. Pshhhh, that neeeeeever happens.

Like an idiot, (such an idiot), I kept climbing. Pain swelled in my bones and muscles but I thought I was being tough by ignoring it. It would go away eventually, right? I can climb through this. It will get better. It will be the way it always was. I can climb through this.

A week later I couldn’t sleep without pain. I was abnormally fatigued and warm-up routes (so easy your grandmother could climb them) caused my muscles to flame in agony. I couldn’t even dance in the back at work. I couldn’t even open a door. Of course I couldn’t ‘climb through this’. What was I thinking? I knew I was being an idiot. Safety never takes a holiday – even if your future marriage is on the line.

Only one person managed to talk any sense into me.

“Danika” my climbing partner Rob said while we were tying in to a route for warm-up. “If you’re in pain, you probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“But pain is just weakness leaving your body right Rob?” I joked half-heartedly. A small voice inside my head muttered: you moron, he’s right!

Nerves twinged in my gut as his old owl eyes looked down at mine. Does that mythical adult wisdom come easier if you’re a ridiculously tall 28 year old grad student? I felt like I was letting him down – and the way he looked at me seemed to confirm that indeed I was. Then he said something that stuck with me.

“There’s only one person who can help you Danika,” he pointed his finger at my chest. “and that’s yourself.”

There are some places in our lives that we invest a lot of love. Maybe it’s something like climbing. Maybes it’s a friendship we’ve had since we were children. Maybe it’s something bigger – like a boyfriend or girlfriend, a first love.

Whatever it is, we cherish it deeply. It becomes a part of us, and we never want it to change or fade or disappear. We hold on to these things even when it hurts us. Even when we know that all we need to do is be brave enough to let he, she, it… let them go. The trouble is, nobody is going to tell us when. And that (for the most part) is for us to decide.

I’ve never been very good at goodbyes. Especially for the things I hold onto in my heart. I was terrified with the idea of not climbing. I just wanted to go back to the way it was before I fell. But there is no going back. There’s only going forward. Life was about to change and I knew that it would leave a big hole in my heart for a while. Was I brave enough to face what was coming my way? Was I strong enough to live without?

Keep the pain, or move forward. Keep the pain, or move forward.

By the time I saw the doctor I’d sprained three ribs, pulled some of my muscles and was told that I wouldn’t be able to start climbing again for a month. Time which normally would have been spent working on routes and bouldering problems with friends was replaced with physiology and chiropractic appointments. I felt estranged at first but then I began to seek a different kind of recovery. An emotional kind of recovery.

Close friends did my physio exercises with me. Rob stayed in touch and we’d have coffee while he was on his way to the gym. The best girlfriends I’ve ever had created a dance forcefield around me so that I could still enjoy a concert we’d planned to go to without further injuring myself. My study partner mocked my wounded puppy face in the library and make me laugh until my ribs hurt (…literally). And somewhere between all of this I started to realize that I have amazing and caring people in my life who at the drop of a hat would do anything to support me.

And that’s when I decided to get rid of more of the aches in my life. I had some big conversations. I developed standards. Standards of happiness. Standards of friendship. Standards for relationships. Standards for cleanliness in my apartment. Standards for the quality of meals I fed myself each day. Standards of exploration – because I (like my friends) have a big heart too. If I let one thing go, it just makes room for another. And so it spiralled. And somewhere between breaking up with a bad news boyfriend and finally cleaning underneath my bed I bounced back.

Facing a trivial and relatively minor back injury gave me the courage I needed to face my entire life – get rid of the aches and pains I’d been holding on to. This injury gave me the courage to let go. I was now, somehow, brave enough to face the pain and emptiness rather than live uncomfortably with it. Again, it wasn’t easy. I fought some sadness. I hurt for a while even after I let go. Here I am, two months later and I have that spring in my step.

As I bounced along on that chilly January evening with a smile on my face and warmth in my heart – I felt bigger. And I think I know why:

Because “life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” (Anais Nin)
I think I’ve just found mine.