Back in the Blogosphere

All right, so I’ve been terrible about blogging this past year, but there’ve been so many adventures that it’s been hard to keep up!  So I thought I’d recap the past year for those of you who’ve inquired about my blog.  And for those of you who’ve asked me whether or not I’d be blogging throughout my upcoming journey along the Trans-Siberian Railway, the answer is yes, as best I can from the middle of Siberia!

 So here, without further delay, is a slight overview of my travels from 2007-present.

I’d never done a spring break/reading week trip during my university years, and I was determined to go somewhere my last year at Emily Carr.  I’d also never done a major road trip with friends, so when my roommate Laura and I started talking about California, we approached a handful of friends and started planning.  In late February ’07, 4 guys and 3 girls piled into Laura’s dad’s ’92 Aerostar (which we nicknamed the Blue Behemoth) and drove nonstop from Vancouver, BC to Temecula, California where we stayed with my longtime friends, (practically family) the Jonkers.

Although the trip involved most of us coming down with a horrid flu that was sweeping through Southern California, the group had a blast hanging out with the Jonkers, going hiking, visiting the beach, checking out LA (the Getty was a huge highlight) and generally relaxing.  My favourite day was one of our first, which we kicked off by visiting my old church, Mountainview Community Church—a primarily black church in which us white kids from Canada stuck out like glue sticks!  Pastor John spotted me from the front and joked a bit about us Canadians, or the cold or something, and I just felt right back at home in this warm, dynamic congregation.  Later that afternoon we headed down to Tijuana with the Jonkers and some friends of theirs and had a blast checking out a lot of the typical tourist spots.

 Our trip back included stops in Santa Barbara, San Francisco, and the Redwood Forest before bombing it back to BC.

Next stop, graduation from Emily Carr and a flight to England from my parents as a gift.  I called up my friend Mandee originally from Vernon whom I’d visited in England the year before on my way home from Morocco, and asked if I could come the following week to stay with her and her husband Sam.  Before I knew it I was back in southwest England enjoying springtime in Devon. 

If there is one place I’ve found that I long to be in the spring, it’s Devon.  This year April/May rolled around and I found myself craving a good walk through the fields and hills of the countryside, exploring castle ruins, long drives along the winding roads of the moor, and most of all (aside from spending time with Mandee, Sam and their friends & family) Devonshire cream teas.  OH.  MY.  GOODNESS.  I cannot even begin to describe how absolutely heavenly one of these delicacies melts in one’s mouth and warms the body.  Served with classic English tea, a scone is split in half and topped with strawberry jam and the most amazing clotted cream you have EVER tasted.  It’s an unpasturized cream, so if you think you’ve had a traditional cream tea in Canada think again because it’s illegal to sell unpastureized dairy products here (or so I was told by a leading local dairy when I tried to find the stuff).  The cream is probably thicker than whipped butter and just thinking about it oozing into the jam on top of a hot scone is making me salivate all over the computer.  I love it so much, that I froze tubs of it and brought it home in my luggage to share with family & friends (we used up the last of it in December!).

My favourite photographic exploits from the trip included a trip to the Devon County Fair—a massive agrarian fair with more sheep, ale, and Hunter wellies than you can imagine.  I also had the chance to visit a friends’ farm which had been in the family for multiple generations, and received a few driving lessons from Mandee—which scared the crap out of me as I wound through the narrow hedgerows and roundabouts on the opposite side of the road!

Whew…Mississippi.  All right, so I’ve been visiting Mississippi since my parents gave me a flight there for my high school graduation gift.  Just to give a bit of background even though I know I blogged about Mississippi last fall, when I was 16 I went to Russia on a missions trip and met my friend Liz who had joined the trip and happened to be from Mississippi…I’ve been visiting ever since!

I flew down to Mississippi in July to photograph one of Liz’s brothers’ weddings, and while I was there, happened to become casually acquainted with her husband Michael’s best friend Will Fenwick.  He was playing bagpipes at the wedding I was shooting, and something about his confident nature and down to earth character caught my attention.  Apparently he thought I was worth getting to know more as well, and so we started emailing.  And email we did for four long months before we finally met up in November.

In between visits to Mississippi I whipped down to California again to visit the Jonkers for a week, and then came back home to photograph a few more fall weddings.  Nervousness about meeting Will again didn’t hit until about a half hour before he was due to arrive from Atlanta (where he’s currently finishing up his schooling this year) and then all of the sudden I wondered what on earth we were doing coming all this way to see what would happen with this newfound friendship.  It didn’t take long to figure out.  Will arrived at about 2pm and after spending the afternoon at the Knoxubee Wildlife Refuge talking and getting reacquainted in person, Will asked me out by 6pm that night.  Neither of us had ever dated and we both new what we were looking for, and we’d found that in each other.  But this really isn’t a blog about our romantic lives, so let me carry on! 

 

I spent that month mostly living with some good friends, Butch & Susan, and visiting with Liz & Michael, as well as building new friendships with other great people in Starkville.  And of course, Will brought a lot of adventure into my time there.  He took me to college football games (if you’ve never been to one in the Deep South, it is truly a cultural phenomenon!) squirrel hunting, deer hunting, to family gatherings, his childhood home, and great places to eat.  Susan was also able to secure me a sideline press pass for the biggest Mississippi State game (against Ole Miss) of the season which was absolutely incredible!

I forgot to mention that our family built a new place out near Okanagan Lake just outside of Vernon, so for a while I didn’t feel like I kept returning home and felt more at home on the road which was a bit strange!  Christmas wasn’t even spent there as our family decided to take a trip to Mexico for a week.  Jacqui & I had never been to an all-inclusive, and I have to admit that relaxing by the beachside bar has some definite perks!  We had a great Christmas together and hadn’t been on a family vacation for YEARS, so it was nice to get away together.

When we flew back to Vancouver I proceeded to fly to Prince George, BC and photograph a rather chilly, but beautiful winter wedding for a friend up north.  I got to warm up again though when I flew the following week to Cuba where I was shooting a wedding for a Canadian couple at a resort in Holguin.  The trip was extended when, back in November, I met six Cuban pastors visiting Mississippi who invited me to come photograph their families and churches.  I couldn’t believe God’s timing…I’d been praying for at least three years about an opportunity for me to photograph the Evangelical Christian community in Cuba before the end of Castro’s regime and finally, here was my open door. 

After shooting the wedding in Holguin, my cousin Stephanie (who was a bridesmaid) came with me to Santiago de Cuba for a day or so.  Once she left I traveled alone by bus throughout the country visiting churches and pastors’ families, even a seminary.  My eyes were opened to the various hardships faced by Evangelical Christians there, and I was amazed that despite the heavy restraints placed on the Church by the government, the Church continued to thrive.  I became amazing friends with one family in particular, and continue to pray for them as their son escaped to the US shortly after I left, leaving his young wife to have their first child, and his family in a panic as to his whereabouts for some time. 

I also had the chance to do some sightseeing in Trinidad, Vinales, and Havana, but did so while extremely sick, which made for an incredibly difficult end to the trip.  I’d never been so lonely, or so desperate to get home, but wanted to soak up the aura of a place that will change dramatically one day.  I felt the Lord’s presence with me continually and knew that people back home were praying.

Earlier on I mentioned God’s timing in working out contacts etc. for my trip, but I was blown away when I received an email from Will while in the northern Philippines the following month, telling me that Castro had resigned.  I had in fact, photographed the Evangelical church in Cuba during the dictator’s last days.  I was floored…it was an answer to a very specific prayer that I’d prayed for years, and I knew that God’s hand was upon my work.

The trip to the Philippines in February/March was another emotional experience.  My mom and I spent three weeks with my Uncle Cliff and his Filipino family whom we’d never met.  Mom’s brother has been a missionary in the Philippines for about 20 years, and 12 years ago married an Igorot tribeswoman from a remote village in the Cordillera region of Mountain Province.  Cliff, Josie, and their sons David & Jesse live, farm, and preach the Gospel in and around their village of Bakigan, several hours north of Bontoc—a village that we could only reach on foot, by climbing the steep and narrow rice terraces that ribbed the mountainsides.

My uncle, aunt, and cousins live simply in a renovated hut without beds or bathing facilities, only a few pieces of borrowed living area furniture and a basic squatty potty (pit toilet).  Refrigeration, and kitchen appliances are non-existent, and most in town cook by fire in their pine walled, tin-roofed huts, whereas Uncle Cliff turned this former relative’s hut into a cinder-block and cement two-story with electricity and a two-burner propane stove.  This has been their temporary housing since their previous home burned down during the Christmas of 2005, a tragedy that took the life of their 2-year old son Paul.  While this loss has affected their family tremendously, I was overwhelmed with the spirit of joy and faith that genuinely spill forth from their lives into the lives of those surrounding them.  Like I said, it was an emotional trip.

By the time I’d finished these exhausting travels, I was more than ready to book it down to Atlanta to visit Will, and so I did.  Along with spending a glorious three weeks with Will, (thanks to the gracious hospitality of his friends Charles & Christy whom I stayed with) we also got to spend a bit of time in Mississippi visiting friends and his family.  During this trip Will told me that he loved me and I of course, responded in kind…it was shortly after this that we began talking about marriage, and about the turn our relationship would soon take.

Spring was incredibly full with wedding photography in full swing and editing up the wazoo!  I was grateful for the work and glad that the busy schedule helped to pass the time quickly between visits with Will.  A week in Winnipeg shooting for my Uncle Gerry & Aunty Cathy’s business and visiting some extended family helped to speed along the time.  And on the July long weekend, Will finally arrived in Canada.

I had the time of my life showing Will around Vancouver & Vernon, not to mention showing him off!  He really hit it off with my family and friends and we had some much needed time together just relaxing without work to do.  On Sunday, July 6 I went skydiving (my first tandem jump, something I’d dreamed of doing my whole life ever since watching my dad jump as a little girl) and then helped to host a potluck where close friends and family came to meet Will.  That night, exactly one year after we’d met at Joy & David’s rehearsal in Starkville, Mississippi, Will knelt down by the beach, presented me with an incredible ring he’d had made, and asked me to be his wife.  Oh the adventures we’ll have!!!

And here I am, on the cusp of another truly awesome adventure: a 5-week trip from Moscow to Beijing, via Mongolia along the Trans-Siberian Railway—a trip I’ve been dreaming of since I first went to Russia in 1999 and met Liz, my friend from Mississippi who eventually introduced me to my future husband.  This time I’m headed out with my friend Alison Tishenko who’s joined me in dreaming about this trip for the last few years.  Our mission is to spend a good portion of our travels helping out in churches, orphanages, and ministries in Russia & Mongolia before headed to Beijing for a few days of touring the major sites.  As Alison is a music teacher and I’m a photographer, we’re hoping to bless those we meet with using our skills and gifts as needed.  We’ve made arrangements with tentative contacts and are planning our itinerary somewhat spontaneously, which should be fun!

I will do my best to keep a blog running during the trip (hopefully with updates once a week) so you can follow along.  And don’t worry, they won’t be NEAR as long as this one!   I’m excited to compile a series of images based on the Christian church along the Trans-Siberian Railway, but am not quite sure what will come of this project.  Recently my work was featured in ‘Testimony’ magazine (affiliated with the PAOC) and ChristianWeek is also covering my work in their September issue.  My goal with documenting the Christian church around the world is to break down stereotypes of what the modern Evangelical church looks like, as well as to contribute to the strong heritage of the Christian church for generations to come. 

Thanks again for all your support and I can’t wait to share this trip with you!

The Church of Camo…Believing without Seeing

The other day two friends separately discussed their experiences with wearing camo to church. Full camo, I might add. Michael had worn full camo once to a Wednesday night service, while Will had been out of town hunting and had nothing but camo gear to wear, so he showed up to a Sunday service decked out in just that. I believed them, but there was a small sliver of doubt which pricked my unbelief…I didn’t think I could truly believe until I saw such an entrance with my own eyes. I didn’t have to wait long, because tonight I saw a walking forest saunter into church about 30 minutes after the casual evening potluck and teaching had begun. The 6-foot-something thicket of brush (who’s name was Mark) made his way over to the buffet table in a full one-piece camo jumpsuit, and then dug into his pulled pork and macaroni casserole as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I had to suppress not just a giggle, but full-scale laughter. “Oh help me in my unbelief”, I thought…”WHERE is my camera???”, followed only shortly after!

At Home in a Land Far, Far Away...

All right, so I take it there’s been a few of you waiting to hear about the Cash festival. To sum up the evening, attendance was meager at first, but as the night wore on, the bands got better and the crowds got more enthusiastic (aka drunk). Both of these things made for more interesting photos, which was my real reasoning for making an appearance.

What was really ironic about the entire experience was that Johnny Cash was arrested for public drunkenness and there everyone was, celebrating his official posthumous pardoning with a beer in hand in downtown Starkville. Interestingly enough, event organizers had been hoping to focus more on redemption as the theme of Cash’s life, rather than his blunders, so Sunday morning they’d scheduled a Redemption Service with gospel worship lead by Johnny’s sister Joanne. Liz & I slept in which, we figured, was redeeming enough.

Liz & I have been making the most of this week (doing a LOT of talking and catching up) seeing as how her husband Michael has been off hunting in Ohio. When I arrived at their house late last Wednesday night, the entire house looked like he’d just returned from a Mossy Oak shopping spree (Mossy Oak is a chain of hunting supply stores which I’m sure proudly outfits most of the locals with, as I’ve been told, ‘all things camo’. Visit http://www.mossyoak.com/ if you’d like to ‘Join the Obsession’). The morning after Michael left for his weeklong buck-hunting adventure, Liz told me that he’d woken her up sometime during the wee hours of the morning to ask if she knew where his favourite deer-skinning knife was. I’m fairly sure she had no idea.

Now camo, skinning knives, and the quest for a ‘monster buck’ are not strange concepts to me seeing as how I grew up in a hunting family. Our family hunting trip to Wyoming was a favourite childhood memory of mine, and I can also recall the fall season being that special time of year when large, skinned animals were strung up from the rafters of our garage. My friend Stacey, with whom I share a penchant for all things redneck, loves to tell people about the moose that were strung up from the family swing set. I guess it’s good to have a friend who boasts about equally strange and wonderful childhood memories (that we both hope to replicate for our children one day!).

The thing with the south that differs from hunting culture in Canada is that here it’s not unusual for hunting paraphernalia to be seen en masse and in town. The night of the Cash concert I counted dozens of men, women, and children sporting camouflage gear…and not in the styles or patterns you’d pick up at Old Navy either! I spotted teenage girls pairing their daddy’s oversized hunting jackets (complete with elastic waist and wristbands) with cute jeans and low-slung heels. Here in Starkville, camo shows up on both the black man and the white girl, at the Walmart and in the trendy Italian restaurant. I stood in line at the grocery store last night reading the back of one man’s t-shirt that claimed: ‘Southern by Birth, Deer Hunter by the Grace of God’. There was part of me that wanted to be shocked that someone’s t-shirt would exhibit such a slogan, but then I had to remember that my dad has his own collection of redneck t’s…ones that he’s created himself using his own colourful imagination. It’s pretty strange realizing that my own upbringing and surroundings are what make me feel oddly at home in this southern state!

So far one of the most blessed things about Mississippi in the fall has been the weather. Blue skies every day and balmy southern temperatures, not to mention the lack of humidity and absence of mosquitoes this time of year, have made each day fantastic. Flip flops and t-shirts every day have definitely put a perpetual smile on my face. Due to the climate, the need to embrace the outdoors has definitely overwhelmed me at times, however, parkland within the city limits seems nonexistent. In search of a place to sit and relax outside, I discovered that the university campus was a great place to retreat to, and so on Sunday I hit the vast, green expanse of the Drill Field armed with books and sketching supplies. I settled into the centre of campus to sketch one of the stately old facades, then moved to wear the sun’s rays still warmed another portion of the quiet campus. There I pulled out the first book on a list of required reading that I’d been given. I figured reading about Mississippi before writing too much about it was a wise thing to do, so I started off with Willie Morris’ slim anthology of southern tales as a recommended introduction to southern literature. Before I’d even finished the first chapter I was hooked, but I was also reminded of my very first night in Mississippi which brings me back to my initial visit over seven years ago.

Immediately following my final exams in 2000, I was flown down to Mississippi as a graduation gift from my parents. It had been over a year since I’d first met friends I’d made while on a missions trip to Russia, and my first stop was to visit my dear friend Liz (Shehane) Stewart in Starkville, Mississippi. I knew nothing about the state except for what I vaguely recalled about the south from movies; stereotypes which I was sure Hollywood had grossly exaggerated. Over the course of my two week trip, however, I was stunned to find that many of my stereotypes were matched by the realities of the south and I quickly became obsessed with all things southern. But back to my first night in the Deep South.

When Liz picked me up at the airport in Jackson, the state’s capital, I initially reacted to the extreme humidity as an entity which one could chew…I felt myself working to swallow the air and felt that with each gulp I was most likely fogging up my lungs. The only other recollection I can muster up from our drive to Starkville was the mind-boggling amount of kudzu (a kind of creeping vine) that Liz claimed was, “eating up Alabama”. By the time we reached her family’s home and the warmly lit porch that welcomed us in, the sky had become black but the humidity had not lessened. As I stepped from the air-conditioned car into the sticky night I stood riveted in one spot by the sound of something I believed I’d never heard before. “Don’t you have crickets”? Liz asked as I stood wide-eyed in the dark. “They don’t sound like THAT!” I replied, somewhat taken aback that a chorus of insects could raise such a ruckus.

Later after Liz and I had settled into bed for the night, I lay very still listening again to the mildly soothing racket caused by the crickets and decided that there was something about the crickets, porches, kudzu, and humidity that when combined, blended into a rich cultural cocktail that had the potential to inspire a great deal of creativity. I made the promise to myself that if I should ever choose to write for a living, I would return to the south to do so, because it was the only place I knew of so richly endowed with inspiration. Apparently I was not the first to come to that conclusion, as I discovered on that first trip that a great deal of renowned writers and musicians had their roots buried deep in Mississippi’s fertile soil. A year after my first visit to the south I finally put my finger on what made Mississippi so unique, (at least in my opinion) and that was that natives who were born and bred in the state often had the innate gift of story-telling. Always a sucker for a strong narrative whether tall or true, I haven’t tired of seeking out southerners’ favourite stories to tell, and doubt I ever will.

If you have a hankering for a bit of classic southern story-telling, pick up a copy of ‘Good Ol’ Boy’, by Willie Morris and I can guarantee that you’ll catch a whiff of the south without having to plow through one of those dry and dusty ‘classics’ that we’ve all been told are good for us. You’ll also be thoroughly entertained, especially if you’ve grown up in a rural setting where you were forced to create your own fun. Believe me, it’s a keeper. Oh, and read it barefoot…preferably on a porch swing or near a pond if you can locate one!

Well, that’s all for now…glad you’ve been enjoying the blog so far! Stay tuned for highlights from this weekend’s much anticipated (and my first ever) college football game between the Mississippi State Bulldogs & the Alabama Crimson Tide.

Classic Cash

Well I couldn’t have picked a better week to show up in Starkville…unbeknownst to me until I stepped into the local Book Mart on Main Street, Starkville is hosting the first ever Johnny Cash Festival which kicks off today! Miss Barbara and Miss Jimmy (that’s right, Jimmy is her first name) at the Book Mart kindly filled me in on the unprecedented event which is officially labeled the ‘Johnny Cash Flower Pickin’ Festival’ in honour of the Man in Black’s notorious one-night stay in the Starkville City jail after he’d been found inebriated ‘pickin’ flowers’ (so he claimed) in someone’s garden following a gig he’d played here in 1965. Ironically enough, I already knew the story, seeing as how just that morning I’d perused Wikipedia (dependable resource that it is) in search of local facts and figures, and happened upon this humourous anecdote. As I drove into town I noticed a sign for the Dark Horse Tavern, which is where Cash had played that night, and only a block away, the city jail…incidently where my friend Josh works as a jailor. Only in Mississippi!

If you’re just starting to realise why this college town’s name seems familiar to you, and it’s not because you follow NCAA football, then it might be because Mr. Cash’s stay in the slammer inspired the tune “Starkville City Jail” which you may also know was performed at the San Quentin State Prison. Here for your enjoyment are the lyrics:

Well, I left my motel room, down at the Starkville Motel,The town had gone to sleep and I was feelin' fairly well.I strolled along the sidewalk 'neath the sweet magnolia trees;I was whistlin', pickin' flowers, swayin' in the southern breeze.I found myself surrounded; one policeman said: "That's him.Come along, wild flower child. Don't you know that it's two a.m."They're bound to get you.'Cause they got a curfew.And you go to the Starkville City jail.Well, they threw me in the car and started driving into town;I said: "What the hell did I do?" He said: "Shut up and sit down."Well, they emptied out my pockets, took my pills and guitar picks.I said: "Wait, my name is..." "Awe shut up." Well, I sure was in a fix.The sergeant put me in a cell, then he went home for the night;I said: "Come back here, you so and so; I ain't bein' treated right."Well, they're bound to get you, cause they got a curfew,And you go to the Starkville City Jail.I started pacin' back and forth, and now and then I'd yell,And kick my forty dollar shoes against the steel floor of my cell.I'd walk awhile and kick awhile, and all night nobody came.Then I sadly remembered that they didn't even take my name.At 8 a.m. they let me out. I said: "Gimme them things of mine!"They gave me a sneer and a guitar pick, and a yellow dandelion.They're bound to get you, 'cause they got a curfew,And you go to the Starkville City Jail.

--by Johnny Cash
At first I wondered if this festival was a big deal in the minds of locals more than anything, but when I stopped in at the local Chamber of Commerce to find out more, the woman who’s dark and generous hands enveloped my skinny l’il white palm, and who’s name (Latasha) seemed to somehow compliment her red lacquered nails, informed me that the festival had garnered the media’s attention not just in neighbouring Tenessee, but in New York and London as well. When I sat down to lunch with the local paper I read that festival organisers were expecting upwards of 20, 000 people to show up for the event! And when I jumped online to google the festival a flurry of articles arrived at my fingertips. Check out this article by the BBC: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/6992589.stm

What’s the real big deal about this whole thing? Well first off, of course the music should be amazing, with members of the Cash family showing up to perform and other renowned artists taking to the stage of Main Street, USA tomorrow. But the highlight of the weekend is the official pardoning of Johnny Cash which will take place at 8:05 pm Central time and will no doubt draw quite a crowd…after which I will leave tired, happy, and eager to upload photos.

Oh, and here’s the real great part about all this: from the ages of 10-12 I wore a lot of black…so much so that my mom started calling me Johnny Cash. I didn’t know who Johnny Cash was or why he wore black, but I had already started reading ‘Vogue’ and instinctively knew that black was classic. Mom’s response to that: “Not on a 10-year old.”

Catch ya on the flip side of the Cash Festival...

On the Road Again...

Glad to see you’ve reached the JLaur Files! After many months away from the blogosphere I’m returning once again only to leave once more. This time I’m off to Mississippi where I’ll be hanging out in the college town of Starkville for the month of November. I’m currently in Vancouver, so settle in with a latte or a Dynamite roll, and I’ll share a few pre-departure thoughts (and reexamine my packing list) before I check in and find my gate…

For serious Westcoast adventurers who confidently assume that the following will assist them in their travels anywhere across the globe, think again, because the requisite anti-malaria medication, puffy North Face vest, Gortex footwear, bag of trail mix, and Lonely Planet guidebook that should (almost) never be left at home, will do you no good in the Deep South. Considering a major hike to break in your new boots from MEC before you head out? No need…you won’t walk far enough to develop a blister before someone offers you a lift. Contemplating a detailed itinerary for your journey? Throw it out the window…you can’t plan it, but I can almost guarantee that any number of folk will insist you join them for their mama’s chicken fried steak, a Sunday church service, or the Big Game (college football if you’re confused). Got that? Now scratch the typical travel items and routine preparations off your list and carefully read the following advice.

Dietary Planning: Prior to travel in the Deep South, be sure to consume mass quantities of salads and sushi. Let their freshness seep into your soon-to-be clogged arteries because before you know it you’ll be staring straight into the eye of a deep-fried catfish surrounded by hush puppies, wondering whether or not the only veggies you’ll encounter during your trip will come in the form of ‘slaw…coleslaw that is!

Learn the Lingo: First off, I know you’re wondering what exactly ‘hush puppies’ are, so here’s the first definition for your southern lexicon: hush puppy “a savoury, deep-fried ball of cornmeal (about the size of a TimBit for you Canadians) often served up with catfish and ‘slaw, and washed down with sweet tea.” From culinary vocab to football jargon, age-old idioms to cultural forms of address, familiarize yourself with the lingua franca and you’ll have a much easier time interpreting the local vernacular. Want to avoid sounding like a total foreigner? Widen your vowels and avoid ‘eh’ as an expression of choice. Stay tuned to this blog for a growing list of southern colloquialisms and definitions that I’ll be collecting throughout the month.

Dress for the Occasion: Wanna look like a local? Check out the local university’s campus store and walk out sporting the school’s colours. Nothing exudes local pride more than the home team’s logo, colours, or motto. Take caution, however, when traveling further afield lest you wind up in rival territory decked out in another school’s colours. For those of you most comfortable in skate shoes and flip flops, emo style or surfer gear, be forewarned that running shoes and golf shirts reign supreme in the south, but note that no one will mind if you pack your Lulu Lemon pants or Chucks…maybe just avoid wearing them to church…

Football Frenzy: College football in the southern United States is taken just as seriously as, if not more so than, religion (at least by some). Long-standing rivalries, spirited fight songs, classic marching bands, traditional (and not-so-traditional) tailgate parties and die-hard football fanatics all packed into one pulsing stadium could probably cause even the most intense Canadian hockey fans’ jaws to drop and eyes to pop! Check out ESPN’s recent feature entitled “Southern Living: A Weekend in the Life of the SEC” (Southeastern Conference) http://sports.espn.go.com/ncf/notebook?page=sec/weekend for a taste of football frenzy both on and off the field.

Grab a Guidebook…If You Can Find One: If you’ve been scanning the shelves of your local bookstore for the ubiquitous blue spine of a Lonely Planet guidebook that reads ‘Mississippi’ in bold, white lettering, your search ends here. Why? Because Lonely Planet has never (to my knowledge) published a guidebook on Mississippi. Known for sending its writers to the most obscure points on the map, LP is trusted the world over by both beginner and seasoned travelers looking to avoid the tourist traps. Of course I was not surprised that, for obvious reasons, Lonely Planet has omitted Sierra Leone, Sudan, and Chechnya from its vast collection of travel guides. Also excluded, but for reasons less obvious to those who’ve never visited (especially in the dead of winter): North Dakota and Saskatchewan. And while Mississippi may not be the most majestic of states or contain the most enticing of attractions, I was surprised to find that Lonely Planet did not credit the Magnolia state’s rich history, southern hospitality, and musical legacy as worth writing about. I did find another publisher who felt differently, (Insiders’ Guide) and has published a book entitled, “Off the Beaten Path: Mississippi (6th Edition)”, by Marlo Carter Kirkpatrick, but tracking down a copy in Vancouver has proven to be impossible. Barnes & Noble has a copy in its Jackson, MS store, however, so I may have to procure one after I’ve arrived in Dixie.

Bringing it Home: Aside from leaving extra room in one’s bags to bring back souvenirs like pickled okra and bbq sauce, my favourite way to give folks back home a taste of the south is through photographic imagery. That said, there is no telling how many memory cards or rolls of film it might take to do just that, so adopt the southern spirit of shooting everything that moves and keep a sharp eye! (Okay, that was just a jab at a stereotype…don’t get all politically correct and sensitive on me now…this is just the beginning!)

All right, well I think that’s all the travel prep I can muster up! If you’re up for more from Mississippi, then join me for the ride…this is your final boarding call. Y’ALL COME BACK NOW, Y’HEAR?!