Tuesday, September 22, 2015

On the Road Again 2015 #24



Gull lake is just east of Swift Current. It is about 450 kilometres from Calgary. While it was still not the marathon drive I was looking for - it was a nice ride and as always, I was grateful.

My driver had been in Calgary over-night dropping his girlfriend off at the airport. She was going to the Philippines to visit her family. To the best of my knowledge, any of the relationships my drivers have talked about in the past 13 or so years have always been with non-immigrants (that sounds awkward and I apologize). That is, my drivers had relationships with people who generally came from the same class, race and culture as they did.  I suppose it is a sign of how the world is changing. Whereas twenty years ago it might have seemed to be unusual for a guy from BC to meet someone from half the world away and develop a long term relationship via technology, or a farm boy from central Canada to have a relationship with someone from the Philippines - it no longer is. I found it rather extraordinary and absolutely delightful that somewhere in southern Saskatchewan that this is true. There are times when, as I read the papers, I groan in despair over the absurdities of people fighting and all too often killing, about race, religion or culture. But then I meet these drivers who in their own way are refuting all of those silly claims about one group being better than the other. That quite frankly is as good as any other reason to hitchhike.

It was a quiet drive. We talked about a thousand things as we went along. My driver, who was still not over 32, had had an interesting life. He came from a very religious family and had spent three years in China as a Christian missionary. It seemed a strange thing to do - he had had to raise the money himself, both the cost to get there and to be supported for the three years. He clearly was not wanted there, he did not speak the language and I could not figure out what is role was when he was there. I didn't push him too hard . He had clearly gone to China because of a personal conviction. It was not my place to question how he demonstrated his faith. I would have liked to have a more in-depth conversation about China and the people there - but I did not get the sense that he really knew it that well. I think he spent much of the three years being both uncomfortable and concerned about his safety.

He was quiet man - given to slow sentences with spaces in between as he careful considered his words. He talked about how hard it was develop a relationship, the in and outs of working as a mechanic in a small town, growing up in southern Saskatchewan. It was not the most stimulating conversation that I ever had, but it was comfortable and relaxing. It was also a remarkable drive in that not once did the driver ask about my faith. He was clearly a deeply religious man. A number of times during our five or so hours together, he mentioned that he and his girlfriend had prayed together over a particular problem or issue. He also talked about the moral dilemmas of working for people who made decisions based on people versus money. But he never preached to me and I don't think he would have preached at anyone else. It has been my experience that drivers who have a deep faith feel somewhat obligated to, at the very least, test the waters about my faith. In fact generally they have been so aggressive about trying to convert me that I have been glad to get out of the vehicles. But not this guy. He was clearly comfortable talking about his faith - he just felt no need to convert me. I liked him for that.

At Medicine Hat we pulled off for a bit to go shopping at the mall. His girlfriend had told him he needed to get an iron. Like so many people I know, my driver had never ironed a single shirt. So we talked about ironing a bit, then he went off to look for an iron and I walked around the mall. It could have been a mall in Victoria, Calgary, Thunder Bay or Sudbury. They all have the same food courts, the same shoe stores, the same clothing stores. I swear if one was parachuted blindfolded into a mall, one would not know in which city it was located. Except for the jewerly store. My newest theory of nothing is that while all of the shopping malls of Canada are interchangeable - in every mall there is at least one jewerly store that is unique to that geographic area- one store that is not part of a chain.

Regardless in spite of discovering this new theory, it was an incredibly boring 45 minutes as I hung around the entrance to the mall. We had agreed on when and where to meet, but I am always afraid that I may have misunderstood my driver's instructions or that they will forget me. I therefore spend most of the time within ten feet of the entrance. We however, did meet up where we were supposed to, about the time we were supposed to, he grabbed a couple of burgers from the A & W stand and we were off again.

While I was completely dry - even my shoes, I felt dirty. My hair and beard had sand in it from the winds around Cache Creek, my hair had curls and kinks in it from getting wet and then having a hat jammed down on it, my beard had permanently separated into two halves and I was reasonable sure that if I didn't smell - I would fairly soon. I was also sure that there were things in my pack that were, at the very least damp. They too, in the reasonably near future, would start to grow mold if I didn't do something about it. It was only 6:00PM when my driver said that he was turning south and where did I want to be let out. I said if there was a cheap motel, somewhere near the highway - that would be great.  He said there was - drove me the 200 yards to the parking lot - I saw the purple painted cement block structure and said this looks perfect and got out.

I could have stood on the highway and tried for a ride....but I was determined that this night I was going to get to sleep in a motel bed.

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