Day 45 - Across the Prairie

Day 45 Estevan - Osler, SK

Having homey accommodations complete with a mouth-watering breakfast and a swimming pool necessitated a later start to our day. The children were bushed and kept right on sleeping when I pulled my refreshed body from the tangle of blankets. I likely had an hour before they arose to get some editing done on the many hundreds of photographs I had accumulated since my last upload, and this was a good time to take care of it. The upload speed would turn out to be lightening quick. 

Work done, children up and dressed, we headed down to the breakfast room. The last time we had encountered such a spread was when we stayed in the Residential Inn in California. This Best Western would turn out to be one that offered the same quality. There was real strawberries and fresh whipped cream to top the hot waffles. Bacon, eggs, omelets, yoghurt, cereal, chocolate milk, toast, fresh fruit, and salad. Too much to name. A feast for a traveler’s tummy!

Fully sated, we headed down to the pool. I asked for a bit of a later check-out to give the kids a few minutes to splash around, while I relaxed on one of the deck chairs at the pool’s edge. Soon after, the backpacks, computer, and odds and ends were gathered and it was out to the caravan we trooped. It was still cold, but not nearly as chilly as the night before. I was glad I had made the decision to spend the night in a hotel. As a man passed us by wearing a fur hat it kind of made my point!

SIGHTS of SASKATCHEWAN PRAIRIES

How My Boys Sleep During Road-Trips

It’s funny how your physiological body works. A person can feel totally fine but the body can have a mind of it’s own. Yes, there had been much stress on this trip, even situations that were not mentioned in my writings due to them not being mine to report, and as the leader of this motley crew, it was my responsibility to solve all problems and to keep everyone moving forward. This is quite likely the reason my system said “Enough,” today. This has been a wonderful, fantastical, difficult, exciting, challenging, memorable journey that I am so very privileged to have been able to live with my children, and I have learned much through the experiences. 

It was later in the morning and we were driving along following two vehicles. Heading towards us was a police car which passed the first car, then the second car, and then as it neared me it flicked on its lights. Driving past me, I felt a sudden dread. What had I done? I had crossed the entire continent, and I was half way home, and I had worked to stay under the speed limit, and to not break any rules. That last thing I wanted was a ticket to add to my expenses. 

But I knew I had a left turn signal that had died some while back. The back lights of my caravan and van worked, and I did my best to take right turns and not left, but there were only so many of those you could take before you ended up right back where you started! My plan was to get to a Canadian Tire and get a mechanic to switch it for me, but circumstance kept getting in the way. Of course, I knew the police officer couldn’t see this problem, but overwhelm can get the best of one, and I had had one too many problems on this trip! I watched in my outside mirror as the police car passed me with its lights flashing, but no siren sounding, and I kept on driving, praying and hoping it was not about me. 

What is it about police cars that compel me to have a clean car? Seeing this officer, thinking he was going to pull me over, I called out to the kids to ‘clean up the van’. As if I was going to get a ticket for a dirty interior? It’s funny how people react to the police. I do not encounter them, so they are these people of authority who have the ability to issue tickets and fines for things I might not even know I have done. That is unnerving, and as one who tries to abide by the law it is even more upsetting.  

When I was in Ohio and that officer came and moved us in the night from the gas station to the reservoir I faced similar feelings. The following morning when he came to check on me he asked me how my night had been, and I told him my trauma level was just returning to normal. Surprised, he asked me why? I told him, “When you are an honest person, the thought of the police apprehending you is scary, but if I was dishonest, I think I would expect it and be more relaxed.” 

Minutes later, I glanced back through my mirror, I could see that  and about thirty feet behind I saw flashing lights following me. Steadying my hands on the steering wheel, I waited for him to pull up beside me, turn on his siren, or if he was after one of the two in front of me, I expected him to pass and pull someone over. None of this he did. Mile by mile crept by as I waited for something to happen. Heart pounding, I kept driving. Perhaps I should have pulled over, but really, I knew I had nothing wrong, and I felt if he was me he wanted he would make it clear by making it evident. 

Courage said, “Give him a couple donuts, and he’ll be happy.” 

Eventually, seeing no sign of him for a while, as the road leaned to the right, I had Isaiah look back to see if he could see him. He couldn’t. The road then swayed to the left, and Courage took a turn out of his window. No sign of the cruiser. Where had he gone? What had happened to him? The children and I all agreed that we had not passed any side roads. Why had he turned on his lights? What was that all about? 

It didn’t help that the situation was finished, my body felt the panic. Jittery and edgy, I pulled over and took a short break. I cranked the window down a bit, took some deep breaths, waited for cars to pass and the road to clear, and then I headed back onto the freeway.  

I think that yesterday’s long drive, followed by the unexpected concern that we had nowhere to park the caravan for the night, shook me a little more than I realized. If I hadn’t been contending with subzero temperatures it wouldn’t have thrown me at all. We simply would have parked anywhere, cuddled into our extra blankets and ‘fall camped’ through the night. It was the knowledge that my children’s well-being was in my hands that concerned me. 

At the next opportunity, we pulled off and found a gas station where I filled up with gas, bought a Wonderbar, and an ice cold Coke. As we drove along, and I munched my relaxation food, I decided this was a good time for some loud mind-invigorating tunes. Music that would make me forget I was on the road, and fill the car with fun. The remedy? The Irish Rovers nearly full throttle. I love, love, love them! I find it rather ironic that the fun songs my children can sing involve lifestyles we don’t lead, but the lyrics are fun and rambunctious.

‘I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler, I'm a long way from home
And if you don't like me, well, leave me alone
I'll eat when I'm hungry, I'll drink when I'm dry
And the moonshine don't kill me, I'll live til I die”

They have wonderful family songs, too! One of our favourites is The Unicorn: 

“A long time ago, when the Earth was green,
There was more kinds of animals than you've ever seen.
And they'd run around free when the Earth was being born,
And the loveliest of 'em all was the unicorn.
There was green alligators and long-necked geese,
Some humpty backed camels and some chimpanzees.
Some cats and rats and elephants, but sure as you're born,
The loveliest of all was the unicorn.”

But our most favourite is The Lord of the Dance:

“They cut me down and I leapt up high 
I am the life that will never, never die 
I'll live in you if you'll live in me 
I am the Lord of the dance, said he 

Dance, dance, wherever you may be 
I am the lord of the dance, said he 
And I lead you all, wherever you may be 

And I lead you all in the dance, said he”

We drove on for another few hours enjoying the typical gorgeous scenery before arriving in a tiny town outside of Saskatoon. 

Ayana was my scribe and to quote her, “I got the job of being the scribe which is a very important job. At first it was hard to write fast but now it is much easier.”  She was scribbling down the lyrics to an Irish Rover song that struck me as being wonderful final lines in my musing about this journey. Knowing I was almost at my destination - the home of a long-time internet friend, I pulled off as I wanted to have Ayana pen the final words before we arrived. 

Minutes after I pulled off, a green car drove towards me and after passing the van, it circled and came past again, pulling up in front of me. I eyed the car as it sat there for a moment, and then when the door opened and a man stepped out and began walking back towards us, I felt the need for caution. Steering a little to the left, I pulled a couple feet forward to avoid being trapped by his car in the event that he was an unsavory individual. 

Meanwhile, I told the kids to lock the doors. The character, as he walked around the hood towards Courage’s window, put up his hand to stop me, and I, rather than dashing off in what might be construed as a panicked manner, wanted to seem civilized to this stranger who was approaching me in the middle of nowhere. I raised my hand, smiled, and thought to myself, “Ooohkay strange guy! We’ll be going now...”

On second thought, maybe I was being too hasty, so rather than drive on, I told Courage to open the window to see what the guy needed. Winding it down halfway, the man declared, “Follow me.”  And at my look of confusion, he announced, “I’m Jonathon.” Light dawning, I said, “Oh you’re Karen’s husband! I thought you were some creep!” Then laughing at how that sounded, I said, “Those are great first words aren’t they!” He had to agree. 

Meeting Karen for the first time was like meeting all my other Internet Adoptive Mum Friends - wonderful to be able to put living faces to mothers who are walking a path that is not exactly like mine, but very closely related. Families with similar struggles, triumphs, tragedies, joys, heartaches, hopes and dreams. 

It didn’t take but a few minutes for the children to make connections, and friendships to be formed. The unique thing about meeting other Ethiopian/Canadian families is the age-old ‘how old are they really’ question that inevitably comes up. We all want to know! I am not aware of one Ethiopian adoption where the children came home with the ages that was written on their birth certificates, so it is always a curious little conversation piece. I have always tried to show my daughters that having questionable numbers is nothing to be ashamed of, and so we treat it light-heartedly, and have a little fun with it. 

In Jamaica, when Song was eight according to her birthmother’s information and doctor’s decisions, she was legally given approval to scuba dive once the dive instructor heard her unusual story, even though her birth certificate listed her as six. It is helpful when they meet new Ethiopian friends and learn that they are not alone in this idiosyncratic feature.

I was a little delayed in coming into the house as I was parking the van, and when I arrived everyone was clustered at the top of the stairs near the kitchen, and obviously caught up in a conversation. I had to chuckle at the question when Ayana was asked how old she was, because I knew I would have been asking the same question of their girls later! She hesitated before responding, because as she told me, she was thinking, “Hmmm, do I tell him the paper age, what I go by, or the real number?” 

Seeing her hesitation, she was kindly joshed along with “Are you thinking about what you should tell me? The paper age or what you go by?”  For Ayana it was a great relief to meet people who understood the life she leads with ages and dates! We have a giggle about the fact that no-one can tell her she is not twenty-nine if that is the age she chooses to stick with until her dying day!

For me, as usual, it was a wonderful visit with a very welcoming family. Karen had gone to great lengths to create a masterpiece of an Ethiopian meal - a daylong procedure - and for our girls it was a delightful treat as they rarely experience it at home due to the time consuming effort it takes. Mind you, I will say, I did my best by taking them to Washington, DC, or “Little Ethiopia” as it is known, to give all of our taste buds a succulent and memorable dinner.

My Favourite Picture!

Karen and I

I am so thankful that the Framer was gracious enough to allow me to take the tribe on the road to meet up with old and new friends, adoptive and non-adoptive, ones that walk in our footsteps or others that live lives drastically different to our own. It was all a very rich learning experience, and I am blessed by the new friends I have met. I hope that one day to be able to open my doors to these once strangers, now friends!
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