Canoein'

Another step towards indoctrinating me into the Canadian lifestyle is to force me into a canoe and put me on a lake; a step my Comunity Recreation 12 class has taken. Now, there wasn't much forcing involved, getting in was something I wanted to do... I'll get to the forceful activity later.

"Com Rec" is the oddest thing to a South African. It was not conceivable to me that one could come to school, and in the middle of embracing the academic lifestyle, spend an hour and a half of your day playing pool downtown or doing rock-climbing, lazertag, hot yoga (another new experience inconceivable to africans), dodgeball or in this case - canoeing.

We have a 3 day trip coming up soon involving canoeing/minor hiking/camping and awesomeness (as the awesomeness will be concentrated in sayward lakes, no awesomeness will be concentrated on my blog for that time, aweh). Fortunately, and unfortunately, we have to train for this trip. On the positive side, I get to go out and canoe between a Literature test and a History midterm and revive the braincells that were decimated while writing an essay on metaphysical poetry of the Renaissance. On the flipside however, you have to train for anything that may happen, including capsizing your hull. This is where the force comes in (not in the jedi sense).

If you're wondering why my title is " Canoein' ", I am not trying to be gangsta. I'm trying to emphasize how "Canoe" and "in" are in the same word - "in" to the water that is. Gunning it for the center of the lake, we congregated as the teacher had told us to; in a spread out formation - far from one another. After waiting for commands, I got bored, and as I looked the other way, our teacher signalled to my loyal german buddy, whom I dearly trust, that he should capsize the boat we were in without me noticing. I Turned to ask him, "What happens now?" but before I could do so, I witnessed a titanic showmanship of brute force as he rocked the boat left in a single motion. Needless to say, I was now "in" the ice cold water...but so was he; something which at first I knew not from sight, but from the icy squeels he made as I turned to drown him.

Ofcourse, the "drowning" part is absolute hyperbole, and it wasn't only him squeeling, it was me... as well as squeels of laughter from the rest of the sadistic class who probably thought the sight of my crazy, lush, immaculate, manly, godly (yes, both manly and godly) and tasty hair getting wet was a cruel joke.

I am alive to blog the story though. This picture - and here's the catch - was not taken today. It is today's picture of today, but it was taken on our first canoeing training day. Since then, I now know the intricacies of the J-stroke, and how to capsize a boat - both integral parts in my journey into becoming a member of the Great White North.

Word of the day: I think since I tried to start that trend, I have jinxed my subconscience and this phenomenon does not happen any more.
Location: Claremont Secondary School.