| Bruce:
We have been coming to First Unitarian since
September. A sabbatical for Holly brought us to Toronto from
Eugene, Oregon. The need for community and connection
brought us here to First. I was raised in a Unitarian
church. When we moved here, I wanted to make a connection
with Canada, to see Canada from the inside. Joining First
Unitarian gave me the opportunity to explore, in the context of
this religious community, what it means to be Canadian. In our
first month as temporary Canadians, I learned to sing O, Canada!
in both languages.
Holly
For me, Unitarian is an adopted identity.
I came to Unitarian-Universalism through Bruce. Unlike
Bruce, I don't see myself as a temporary Canadian. I grew up
as an American abroad, so being an expatriate-an American
expatriate-is a familiar experience. Yet Canada feels less foreign
than any other country I've been to. When we moved here, I
read novels by Canadians, especially those set in Toronto. I
learned about Rosedale from Timothy Findley, about early Irish
immigrants from Jane Urquhart.
Bruce:
In March, we participated in this church's
Central American Project, travelling to Honduras as members of a
Canadian volunteer construction team. A highlight of this
trip was visiting a Honduran school with Talia, another team
member, to present students and the local youth soccer team with
uniforms and a ball donated by Canadian children's teams. Talia
went as a representative of Canada's young people. I went
because my Spanish is good, so I could translate Talia's remarks.
We sang O, Canada! in English and in French, and the students,
teacher, and townspeople sang the Honduran national hymn to
us. I gave a geography lesson about Canada in Spanish.
I told them that if we all started walking north from that village
on that day in March, we would arrive in Canada on Canada Day.
Holly:
The volunteers had different religious
backgrounds. As a team, however, we were staunchly Canadian.
This was during the run-up to the U.S. invasion of Iraq, and there
were often political discussions at dinner. Sometimes, the
others forgot that Bruce and I were Americans. I never did.
The highlights of the trip for me, however, were times when
nationality seemed irrelevant. One came while bolting
together roof beams for the simple two-room house we were helping
to build. The foursome on the roof was me, Canadian team
superviser Jens, the homeowner-to-be Amado, and the Honduran site
foreman, Henry. As we passed the drill, el ladro, one to another,
we were bound together in the communion of a common task. It
didn't matter, for that moment, that I was a woman among men, a
foreigner with feeble Spanish, an amateur among others more
experienced with chisel and drill, or an American in hiding on a
Canadian team.
Bruce:
In a few months, I must give up my love affair
with Canadian identity. I love Canada's communal spirit and
will miss that in the more laissez-faire culture of the U.S.
My challenge is to carry back to Eugene some consciousness about
what makes Canada Canada, to take back in my own heart a bit of
the Canadian that I was permitted to be here.
Holly:
I must give up, once again, the identity of
expatriate, an outsider who feels at home abroad. First Unitarian,
and especially the construction crew in Honduras, have been my
Canadian home, a place where shared commitment to common values or
shared work on a common task can matter more than the nation in
which I was born.
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