February
1
2012
I arrived way early for my flight today. They advise travelers to arrive about 3 hours early, so I did. A little more than 3 hours, actually. I made it through security – and worked up a bit of a sweat doing so – and figured I’d grab a drink and relax before hitting my gate. Boarding wouldn’t istart for over an hour and a half anyways.
I grabbed myself an iced cappuccino from Tim Hortons and sat down in the food court like area. I flipped open a copy of The Economist (yep, I’m certainly into trendy stuff!) and started to read. Not long afterwards, an older man sat down at my table, about two seats down.
His fries smelled absolutely delicious. Nothing like freshly deep-fried junk food to start a conversation. I made a comment to him about his fries and began a conversation that would ultimately go on for the better part of an hour.
Eric McKinley was his name. We discussed politics to begin with, and he told me about a very successful Social Credit administration in British Columbia (where he’s from) and then about the NDP government that took its place and ran the province economically into the ground. The man is clearly a fiscal conservative. Probably a Harper fan, based on my reading between the lines.
That’s alright. I’m a fiscal conservative myself, though not at all a Harper fan.
We then talked a bit about education and education systems – he used to be a teacher – and then we got to talking about what we each do with ourselves. It turns out that he’s a Christian missionary. He gave up teaching for that path.
I knew he was Christian from the start because he prayed before eating his meal.
I didn’t tell him that I’m Christian too. It wasn’t material to our discussion or our relationship such as it was. I suppose he just presumed that I wasn’t Christian.
Perhaps out of respect, but certainly because I truly enjoy learning from others’ experiences and viewpoints, I listened intently and asked some honest questions. He wasn’t giving me a hard sell, but was certainly trying to impress upon me the importance of being wise with the long-term in mind.
I appreciate his heart, and I really did find the conversation to be a well-needed reminder of things important to me but not always top of mind. God works in interesting ways, I suppose, and we both benefited from the hour spent chatting with a stranger.
I wished him a good flight to Peru, where he was going to see his kids and grandkids. He wished me a good flight and a good road ahead in life.
There are people we meet in life – even if just briefly – who add color and light, and whom, were it not for fortuitous circumstances, we’d never connect with at all.
I think chance encounters like this are what make travel interesting. These things take time and open minds and hearts – all things that are absent from the resort mentality or rocket-tour approach.
I think my trip is off to a great start indeed!
February
1
2012
Everyone’s been asking me for the past two weeks if I’m excited – or commenting directly, “You must be so excited!” – about my trip to China. I usually just nod and say yeah, I’m looking forward to it. It’s just me, but I’m usually not actually jump-up-and-down excited about traveling. It’s not that I actually travel a whole lot – it’s expensive, y’know! – but it just feels like its nothing that special. I’ll admit that I have a smile on my face right now as I sit here an hour before heading out to the airport, but that’s not the same as genuine heart-racing excitement!
Anyhow, I’m all packed. I thought I was going to travel light, but somehow I still ended up with enough stuff to haul that I’m gonna feel like a pack mule. Part of it is just the sheer bulkiness of my winter stuff. No, it’s not a warm, sunny destination. I don’t “do” sunny-beach vacations anyways, but it’s interesting how every time I travel with my girlfriend it’s cold weather at the destination 
I haven’t written much on the blog lately as I’ve been preoccupied with some business things – that’s business as opposed to day work for the government! – and I just haven’t had a whole lot of fun stuff to share. The next while should be different though – I think I’m going to have a lot to write about! I’ll be behind the notorious Great Firewall, but I’m not stupid enough to write anything that could get me into hot water while I’m over there. I can always comment about that sort of thing when I get back home 
Okay, onwards we go! Next post will be from China!
December
30
2011
I’m no saint. I’m not a bleeding-heart left-wing liberal. I don’t help everyone who asks for help. I do, however, have a soft spot for the homeless.
Do you listen when they ask for spare change? Do you acknowledge them as people? Do you give anything? Do you ever have a conversation?
Some of the most interesting conversations I have had have been with homeless individuals.
I don’t always give, but I almost always establish eye contact and respond in some way. I don’t always give – I may not actually have any change, or my heart may not be in the right place at the time. Yet, sometimes I give, and when I do, I try to have at least a moment of connection with the person. In some cases, I’ll stop to have a conversation.
Today, a young man near Bay and Bloor struck me as different, and I am very glad to have helped him a bit and to have taken a few moments of my life to speak with him. When I passed by him for the first time, I made eye contact and told him, “Sorry, don’t have any change.” Usually, I either get a nod, a “no probs”, or the person just dismisses me by looking away and moving on to the next person. This young man was different. He looked away with a mixture of resignation and sorrow.
Whether it was God who moved my heart – I am Christian, after all – or simply compassion for another soul truly in need, I felt that I needed to help this young man with at least a little of my money and my time.
After returning a book at the library further down the street, I double-backed to find the young man. He was still there. I walked over to him, told him with a smile , “I told you earlier that I don’t have any change, and I really don’t, but it is New Year’s… ” and put a decent paper bill in his cup.
He positively lit up, got up and walked a short distance with me. As often happens with conversations with those who long for human contact and respect, he was very open with me.
“I’m not going to buy alcohol with this. I don’t drink. I do a little pot, but that’s it. It’s my own fault that I’m in this situation. Thank you. I know there really are good people.”
Someone crossing the street called to him in a friendly manner , “Hey buddy, how are you today?” “I’m good! Thank you!” He returned his attention to me. “Her name is Angel. It really is.” I could hear in his voice that he had a lot of respect for the lady.
We parted ways not long after. I wanted to say something to encourage him – I saw a good heart in him, and I truly believe he can get himself back on his own feet. All I had time for was just a parting moment to honestly wish him a happy new year.
I am happy to have helped him, if only for a day materially. I can only hope that by lifting his spirits for a little while that it may help him keep on his journey away from despair and towards the better life that I sense he hopes for. I know for sure that I too have benefited from this shared moment.
Can you spare a dime? More importantly, can you spare a moment of your time – of your life – for another human being in need? Try it, and if your heart is in the right place, I believe you will find that you both benefit from it.
Science or Not, Men and Women Communicate Differently
Some of my colleagues and I attended a presentation by Dr. Schabas (by teleconference and remote Powerpoint) titled “Lessons of SARS, H5N1 and pH1N1: Pandemics or Panic-demics?” I thought it was a fantastic presentation. It was well-argued and with a clear conclusion and a strong, logical thought sequence supporting it all the way through.
At a very broad level, his point was that all 3 of these were not pandemics and not even close. They were, however, all examples of over-reaction by public health agencies. I should note that my day work with the government is related to public health response and emergencies.
My colleagues and I had a short discussion afterwards, and I was bemused by the way my female colleagues were reacting to Dr. Schabas’s style and presentation. “He makes good points, but he comes across the wrong way. When he’s so confrontational, nobody wants to listen to him.”
Really? I had to chime in. “I like his style.”
“Really? You like his style?”
A male colleague also chimed in, “Yeah, he makes good points and comes across well.”
Clearly there was a difference of opinion here, and it was very obviously driven along gender lines. I turned to my male colleague and suggested, “Maybe it’s because we’re guys that we don’t mind that he comes across like a dick.” “Yeah, maybe. But what, are you gonna say ‘Oh he comes across so mean, I’m not going to listen to him?’”
Men and women are equals, but that doesn’t make us the same. Indeed, the differences matter. I like the direct, no-nonsense, totally-anti-bureaucratic way that Dr. Schabas makes his argument. Here’s how he sees the situation, here’s what the public health field ought to have seen and known, and here’s where we f***in’ messed up. Why the hell would you want to obscure that by wrapping it up in soft, nonconfrontational, lovey-dovey language? Government bureaucracy already does that all the time, which is why so much of what comes out officially is hot air with very little value or meaning.
I truly enjoyed the presentation, really appreciate the manner in which Dr. Schabas makes his argument, and really take to heart his argument and conclusions.
This isn’t going to be the mainstream, I know that. As one of my female colleagues noted about the notable Schabas Style: “He was the only one during pH1N1 saying we were overreacting, said it in no uncertain terms, and that’s why everyone hated him.” Everyone? Really? I liked his style the first time I heard him interviewed – and I didn’t even know who the frick he was at the time.
Men and women are different. We need to acknowledge that these differences matter – not that they are issues of better or worse, but that they make a material impact on things – even in ostensibly dispassionate, objective fields like medicine, healthcare and public health.