From City To Country
what I’ve learned in 3 weeks
It is exactly 28.4 km, roughly 17.6 miles, between the towns of Kemptville (population 3911) and Merrickville (population 2850). A leisurely drive will take roughly 23 minutes to go from one to the other. Our house is almost dead center in the middle, in a place called Heckston, the only public building being a general store. Blink once and you’ll miss it. I’m not kidding. Ottawa, the city I grew up in, is a 30 min drive by car, a 20 minute ride via train.
I’m also not kidding when I say this experience of moving is a world away from anything else I have ever done. The picture below was shot from our deck a few evenings ago.
Until this point in my life, I have only lived in cities. Tokyo, Ottawa, Montreal, Los Angeles, and when I was working overseas, Moscow, Russia, and Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. Usually in the downtown core. While I have lived in extremely remote places before, in Central Asia, northern Russia, and Sudan to be exact, those were all short term, six week contracts doing medical aid missions where housing was provided for us. Our move to the new house marks the only time I have actually “settled down” in a rural area. Coming up to the end of three weeks here, I have learned more than a few things. Some of which would be:
Stillness
Holy fuck, is it ever quiet. Which, after the first few days was relaxing, and still is; yet don’t let quiet fool you, as once you are attuned to it, your hearing improves. Drastically. I can hear a conversation at the end of the driveway like I was standing beside the person. You also realize what the term “dark” means. Your eyes, however, do not adjust like your hearing. Thus, when outside at night the flashlight is a must have.
I’ve Learned The Hard Way
That if you are a person who loves horror movies, and take pride in callously laughing at those wimpy chicken shits who get scared and need to keep the lights on after watching one, you may consider rethinking that stance. Because when your partner has to, say for example take the dog to Toronto for surgery, you may find your reaction to said horror movie changing. Picture me and Trouser huddled in the bedroom, door closed, lights on, jumping at every night time sound. Of which there were many. My sincere apologies to wimpy chicken shits everywhere.
Stereotypes Are Usually Bullshit
I have to admit, I held my share of pre-convinced notions regarding what small town people were like. Usually something along the lines of bad grammar and that stupid banjo from the film Deliverance. And while there will always be one or two examples of that reductionist stereotype everywhere, cities included, that is not near what I have come to experience here.
I’ve found that small town people are, at first, cautious of newcomers. Though after you make that first effort, providing it is sincere and done with a smile, the generosity that awaits you is warm, genuine, and often touching. Like the owner of the general store who schooled us on the intricacies of garbage removal and the tagging system for bags. She was the same woman who offered to take a few of our bags in her dumpster if we were going past our allotment of 14 (we had missed the first week due to ignorance.) Now, in what city will you find someone willing to do that, and sell you her husbands homemade garlic pickles? Which were more than delicious, I need to add.
Hetero-normative Defaults
Small towns are full of appearance based defaults. For example, if you are on the more traditionally masculine appearing side of the gender deportment scale, and you mention you and your partner have moved in down the road, you will likely be enthusiastically asked what type of business the two of you are in. There may be an initial awkward silent pause, though a reply of “Oh, we’re not. I’m a writer and he is retired” usually corrects an initial impression of straight. Both quickly and effectively. The smile was still intact on the store owners face, I am happy to report.
Or, Just inquire About Moisturizer
Another way to correct any misunderstanding around the true nature of your sexual identity is to ask the 20 something clerk at the local grocery store if they carry the Kiehls Rare Earth series of facial cleansers and moisturizers for men. The pause, telling smile, and response that follows is usually all the confirmation one needs for assurance that any misunderstandings have been effectively corrected. “No, I’m thinking you need to go to Ottawa for that”.
The One Asian Dining Establishment
My long held contention that every small town in North America has at least one Asian restaurant was confirmed accurate. In our case, it is in Kemptville, a Thai place. I have to say it was the best Thai food either David or I had ever eaten. Especially the hot and sour soup. Our last visit also confirmed something else I had guessed was likely true about small towns. That bright, attractive, and articulate waitresses who are in their last year of high school are positively itching to leave said small town. When the young girl asked me, wide eyed, if we missed the big city, it didn’t surprise me. However, the response I gave her did.
“There’s positives and negatives to both, I guess.”
The Best Lesson
This shot was taken at home a few hours later. After David and I had walked the dogs, we sat on the back deck and watched the largest expanse of stars I had ever seen dance on an indigo sky. I remembered my response to the waitress and smiled, knowing what I had told her was the truth.
Three weeks post move, and I am in every way glad that after much deliberation and vacillation, I finally bit the bullet, stepped out of my long entrenched comfort zone and just did it.
