The Spring Break Overlap

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Spring Break

I am 41 years old and Spring Break has NEVER been a thing for me... until now.

Growing up, I don't remember any big trips over spring break. This was always a week to clean the house or pick up extra shifts at work. Likewise, in college, I was always working on that 1-2 week break in late March or early April. I don't actually remember any spring break vacations in my life. (Maybe one to Vegas when I was really young? I'm not sure, you'd have to ask my mother.)

But, now that I have two boys in grade school and a wife who's returned to college, Spring Break has become a thing in my home. Too bad their respective spring breaks don't overlap though.

Chelly's spring break was the last two weeks of March and the boys' spring break is this first week of April. So, the only days that did overlap were this Saturday and Sunday the 1st & 2nd. I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to stay home and clean the house (spring cleaning!), but Chelly had other ideas. We booked a room in Vancouver and headed up for a couple half-days and one night of changed scenery.

Road Trip

It all started with a mostly uneventful road trip (we almost got smeared by a Kia from Nevada who passed us at lunatic speed on the right shoulder of I-5, but that's pretty typical in Washington State where people drive like they have no idea what they're doing behind a wheel, and even though he was an out-of-state driver, he was probably just trying to escape the madness of left-lane cruisers).

We got lucky with the weather. It was an absolutely stunning drive, with spring sun lighting up the lush greens of northwest Washington and southwest British Columbia. Surprisingly for the first day of a big vacation weekend, there was no line at the Peace Arch border crossing and we got over in about 5 minutes. Then it was a short drive into the suburbs of Vancouver, where the freeway mysteriously ends and one inevitably spends the next 30-90 minutes halting and moving through dozens of city stoplights before reaching downtown proper.

Downtown Van

We checked into the Auberge Hotel (Auberge meaning "hotel" in French, so that's Hotel Hotel), a place where many things didn't work (elevators, doors, automated parking lot machines), but the staff were so friendly and helpful that they made up for all of it. The room was gorgeous and we had a beautiful view of the harbor (which is named "Vancouver Harbour" because Canadians love to use an unnecessary extra U).

The first thing we did was go for a walk around the Convention Center, where a cheerleading competition was taking place. We saw a ton of pre-teen and teenage cheerleaders, who are awesome athletes, but always dismay me with their clown-paint makeup and skimpy outfits. I don't know where all this falls on the feminism spectrum, but it feels like overt objectification and sexualization of young girls. I think we can do better at balancing feminine athleticism with feminine dignity and modesty, but I digress.

We saw some vibrant, pink cherry blossoms and Chelly came upon a sign that said not to disturb the geese. Being just the kind of person to read the sign, ignore the sign, and do exactly what the sign says not to do, she promptly found a goose to get real close to and take some pictures of. The goose did not look pleased.

After that was a late lunch of appetizers at a local Indian restaurant. The place wasn't great, so I won't name it, but it was kind of funny because all the decor was Greek-themed, with pictures of the Greek islands and maps of the Mediterranean, bottles of olives, etc. Turns out it was a Greek restaurant up until the COVID lockdowns, went out of business, and opened as a low-grade Indian joint about a year ago. They never updated the look.

Pool Time

The boys and I went back up to the room while Chelly wandered off to do some window-shopping. We changed into our swim gear and headed to the fitness center & spa (because when something like that is included with your room, you have to take advantage of it). The boys played in the pool while I stayed in the hot tub for waaaay past the recommended amount of time, making conversation with the locals about all the things on their minds from Ottowa to Ukraine. Then we hit the sauna for a while, bumped into one of the guys from the hot tub again, and continued the conversation about politics, economics, values, and morals.

COVID has apparently taken a heavy toll on Vancouver, with many establishments boarded-up and lots of folks sleeping out on the streets. This was a topic brought up by several of the Canadians I had a chance to speak with this weekend, along with the low value of their currency on international exchanges, the constant rise of property values and cost of living, and the high rates of immigration. Somehow this economy is at once growing too rapidly and declining too precipitously for long-time residents to be able to survive here. They're moving out, or moving into their cars, as new money from overseas comes in to buy up the city. In this colonial shell-game, now the working class of all races gets to feel what the Natives have been going through for centuries.

The Natives (First Nations), on the other hand, are getting into the game by developing and leasing out much of their high-value downtown real estate. If you're wondering, I'm on their side. After centuries of wealth-extraction across this continent, I think it's better if they develop their own systems to keep as much of that wealth on their land and within their communities, rather than see it all sent away to Europe and Asia. Better late than never, and when I explained it this way, the Canadian guys I was speaking with seemed to come around on this point. The numbers these tribes are earning on real estate deals don't seem so threatening when you compare them to the massive sums that Brits and Scots, Ottowa and the Crown have pulled out of rents, leases, and taxes in Vancouver over the past 150 years.

We were having fun: playing in the water, sweating, making big talk (no small talk). But the pool closed at 8 and we had a restaurant to get to.

Dinner Time

We used to just eat good food when we traveled, but now we travel for the food. This trip was no different. Chelly had restaurant plans. She is in culinary school now, finishing the program that she began more than a decade ago. In the interim, she's been working as a chef and a kitchen manager. So, food is always on the mind. She's planning to open her own restaurant one day, so this is all "research" for future concepts and menus.

Why Vancouver for a food mission? In particular, Chelly likes to come up here because of a certain population of East African migrants that have a handful of restaurants serving a hybrid of African and Indian foods. These people are the Ismailis. From what I understand, their journey has taken them from Persia to Hindustan (before it was India, etc.) to British East Africa and now they are mostly here in Vancouver. We know their stories because we've met many of them over the years, but they consider themselves to be East Africans who are now at home in Canada. They represent for Uganda, Kenya, and Tanzania where they came from, most of them having emigrated when Ugandan dictator Idi Amin persecuted and forced them out in the 1970s. For the most part they don't consider themselves Indians or Pakistanis because those countries didn't exist when they left the subcontinent and moved to Africa as part of the British colonial mission. They consider themselves Africans.

This community has a couple of restaurants that we patronize whenever we're in town, but this time there was a new one that Chelly was told to check out. It's called Simba Grill. We got there a few minutes before nine, and the posted hours said they'd be open until 10, but when I came in the door the owner told me they were full and wouldn't take any more customers. I'm sure I could have haggled with him and pushed my way in, but due to his gruffness, Chelly said no, let's go somewhere else. I was bummed because I knew it was important to her to learn about this new restaurant, but she told me not to worry. She checked out their menu online and wasn't impressed, and the rudeness that the owner showed me sealed the deal.

Instead we went to an old favorite, tested and true, that is Jambo Grill on the Kingsway in Burnaby. I don't know exactly how long we've been coming here, but it must be at least a decade. We learned about this place when our friend Margaret (another Kenyan) moved from Seattle to Vancouver and started hipping us to the Kenyan scene up here. These folks are actually from Uganda, but half the menu is in Swahili and they have many standby Kenyan dishes, so Chelly feels at home here.

Because of the fast (Abiy Tsom, or Great Lent, I've written about it elsewhere in these blogs) that I am still in the midst of, we were not able to share many dishes tonight, but we got some vegetarian appetizers and chutneys to pass around the table. I also had a lovely drink made from unripe-mango juice with herbs and spices. Chelly had a special African fish dish served with saffron rice, and I had the vegetarian Thali (a dinner platter with a variety of Indian dishes). The boys both fell asleep there in the restaurant. 😊 Hahaha! (I really want an emoji right now.)

Latenight Movies

Back up at the hotel room it was no trouble getting the kids to bed. And then I did something that I almost never do at home, I stayed up late to watch TV. Doing this in the hotel room is totally different than at home anyway, because we have streaming services at home and never have to sit through ads. I don't have the attention span for ads, especially after "cutting the cord" of regular TV back in 2006. So I was just channel hopping around every time an ad break started.

And that's when I came across one of my friends in a movie from the 1950s! You meet a lot of interesting people when you work in film and television. One of those people happens to have been a child actor in Hollywood in the 50s and 60s, and he must have worked a lot because he has loads of credits. It just so happened that this night on my TV I got to see him play Pharoah Ramses' son in The Ten Commandments.

I took some photos and texted him and his wife the next day. She said they were getting texts and emails from several people. This must happen to them every time the movie comes on TV somewhere. Now I understand another part of the power the film medium has on people.

Sleeping In

I slept in that next morning, another thing I rarely get a chance to do at home. But, let me be clear, "sleeping in" at 41 years old means you might be in bed until 8am at the latest. It's nothing like the "sleep all day" days of my 20s. I changed into my tropical island attire to hit the the pool again. This time I swam a few laps, trying some no-breathers, and did a poolside workout of air squats and pool-deck muscle-ups. I finished up with some time in the steam room, where I got to a chat with another Canadian gentlemen whose conversation followed many of the same topics I already covered above.

Then it was back up to the room to eat some of last night's leftovers and get dressed up for church.

Church Time

The boys and I have all been baptized Ethiopian Orthodox, but Chelly was--and still remains--a Catholic. On the Catholic church's calendar, today was Palm Sunday, so it was important to her that we all go to visit a Catholic church for that service today. Luckily for us, there was a massive and splendid Catholic cathedral just a few blocks from where we were staying. We made it to the mass on time and had the chance to experience something new (new to us, but familiar to her).

In the history of the Christian Church, the Roman Catholics and the Ethiopian Orthodox were once one body, with common saints, common liturgies, and sharing in communion with one another. From the 1st to 3rd centuries, of course, the Christians were a persecuted minority faith mostly residing around Judea, Syria, Egypt, and the Greek-speaking lands of Anatolia and the islands. Then, in the 4th century, first the Ethiopian, then the Armenian, and then the Roman Empires all converted their official state religions to Christianity. At this time, the Great Church was one body without divisions. But it didn't last very long. After denying and excommunicating the Arian heretics and the Nestorian heretics (who to this day maintain that they are not Nestorians), the Great Church cleaved itself in two at the Council of Chalcedon. There, the bishops who resided within the Roman Empire accused and excommunicated the bishops who resided outside of the Roman Empire (none of whom were invited to defend themselves at the council) in what is seen today as a mostly politically-motivated event. Much progress has been made in recent decades to heal this schism, but the bodies of "Roman" Christianity (including the Eastern Orthodox, Roman Catholics, and mainline Protestants) and "Oriental Orthodox" Christianity (Armenians, Syrians, Indians, Egyptians, Ethiopians, and Eritreans) remain divided.

Due to this shared early history, there are many commonalities to be seen in the liturgical services performed on Sundays. All liturgical churches follow a pattern based on the liturgy of John Chrysostom. This gives a certain rhythm to the events of the service that all have in common. There are also certain phrases that appear in them all (such as "kyrie eleison", Greek for "Lord, have mercy"). The Ethiopian Orthodox Church maintains 12 liturgies from ancient times, including that of John Chrysostom, more than any other church has been able to preserve. The Roman Catholics, on the other hand, updated their liturgy in the 1960s during the Second Vatican Council. However, they still retain the common and traditional structure along with certain of the creeds and prayers found in the Chrysostom liturgy.

Attending this service was a good opportunity to show our boys the example of Christian unity and the practice of non-judgmental love for others that God commanded us to keep. We got to point out the things that were common in the expressions of our faith, and to appreciate the magnificent architecture of this gothic cathedral with its stained glass and sculpted ornamentation.

Lunch Time

After church, we checked out from the hotel (I told you it was a short vacation) and headed for Kilimanjaro, another East African Indian joint. This one is familiar to us and already lives on Chelly's favorites list, but we hadn't been there since before COVID, so it felt completely new to the boys. Here Chelly really got to get the ear of the chef, chatting with the owner about recipes and business strategy. Kilimanjaro has a tiny cafe up front with a large commercial kitchen in the back mostly used for their catering operation. The menu features a great variety of East African and Indian dishes, with some of the favorites that Chelly has also mastered, along with some others that she may not even have seen before. This made it a lot of fun for all of us to explore the menu and have a proper "tasting".

The place was crowded, and fun. The tightness of this community made it feel like we were in Kenya. These people may not look like Africans, but they behave like Africans, and they were warm and familiar with everyone who came in the door. It seemed like all the customers knew each other too, and there was a joyful vibration in the place like being at a family wedding or something. There was also another Kenyan gal who drove 8 hours (!) from eastern British Columbia to check out the city and eat some food that reminded her of home. That's a testament to the culture that these folks have maintained here.

That's All Folks

At that's it. We got on the road and headed home. No time to dally because Javan had baseball practice that evening. The border crossing going this way was a bit slower and not as easy. The American border guards are always grumpier than the Canadians, and this guy actually looked like he was disappointed that he couldn't find any reason to arrest us or send us over for a search. But we got through ok.

Both boys fell asleep in the car, and we were ready to join them. After passing Bellingham, we switched drivers and I snoozed for the rest of the ride home. Then Chelly laid down for her nap as soon as we reached the house.

World's shortest Spring Break trip.

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