Sonja on injury list 4 weeks running

Recently I've had a number of injuries playing indoor soccer with my pals in the Shin Kickers. Normally I enjoy soccer, both outdoor in the summer and indoor in the winter. Indoor is almost more fun because you're allowed to bounce the ball off the walls, so there are many possible ways to shoot it. My pals in the Shin Kickers have been playing well, though we tend to lose what with all the former university soccer players that seem to populate our opponent teams....

I've been trying really hard to help us win lately. I run really hard to get to the ball first; I stick my foot way out there to try to get control of it first; I turn around quickly when the ball bounces off the wall and ends up in a completely different part of the gym. Sadly all this girating and stretching has led to one new injury EVERY week these past four weeks.

First I fell flat on my butt (trying to reach the ball first I forgot the laws of gravity). That hurt my tailbone for a couple of weeks. Then I played nets the next week and had to protect my still sore back while gingerly bending over or to the side to grab the balls that were shot towards me. I didn't let in a single shot! I didn't injure myself that week but the movement made my backside sore all over again.

The next week I fell again, a little less hard, but still unfortunate. Last week a player kicked above my ankle and left a bruise that still hurts. Yesterday I sprained my wrist when someone shot the ball at my hand (unintentionally I'm sure) and the impact bent my hand back rather forcefully.

All that to say, I'm glad the season is almost over! But I'm sure once all these little sore spots heal I will miss it until summer soccer starts again.

Damascus trip report

Yours truly had the good fortune to visit Damascus recently. This Middle Eastern city of about 3 million people was surprisingly lovely. It has busy streets, but a relaxed atmosphere in the Old City and in the quiet neighbourhoods. The shopping was to die for. Gold and silver jewellery, carpets, shawls and other textiles, handicrafts are sold in this historic trading city. Cafés and restaurants were abundant in some areas of town. The warm sunny weather was also a welcome break for this Ottawan. The predominantly Muslim, Arabic- speaking population gave me a great cross-cultural experience. Here then, is my list of the 5 main similarities and differences between Ottawa and Damascus.

Similarity # 1: Traffic drives on the right

Difference # 1: Drivers rule in Damascus and pay little attention to pedestrians. Watch out before stepping on to the road! Now, back in Ottawa, I am a bit disoriented - do I walk out in the road just because the "walk" sign is on, or do I wait for that car to possibly drive right on through?

Similarity #2: Coffee is popular in both cities.

Difference # 2: There are very few chain coffee shops in Damascus. Most are either traditional coffee houses (typically attracting an older male crowd) or restaurants catering to a younger co-ed set. I found two European chain outlets near the biggest hotel. Bars and restaurnts serving alcohol, on the other hand, are much less common in Damascus, though they do exist.

Similarity #3: Middle eastern fast-food (think shawarma, felafel, hummous) is widely available.

Difference #3: The food is really tasty in Damascus and costs much less (25 Syrian pounds or 50 cents Canadian for a chicken shawarma). They sometimes use different spices than we typically find in fast-food outlets in Ottawa. Fresh citrus juice stands are also common there. Bakeries make amazing savoury and sweet pastries.

Similarity #4: Both cities have many shopping opportunities.

Difference #4: Ottawa is dominated by big-box malls and indoor malls, whereas Damascus (warm weather and all) favours the small shop, preferably in clusters on shopping streets and in the famous markets in and around the Old City. Rather than drive to the big-box, Damascenes frequent small shops in their neighbourhoods. There is a store selling dry goods beside a bakery next to a butcher, next to the real estate office, a pharmacy, and then a hair salon followed by a shawarma shop and finally a hardware store. On the next block is a toy store and a women's clothing store. Down the street is the re-upholstery workshop.

Similarity #5: Both cities have street signs to help you know where you are.

Difference #5: The signs in Damascus are in Arabic, which I can't read... so I frequently was rather lost. People were always friendly and willing to help. Just like the time I visited New York and constantly became turned around. Anyway, I always said a polite "shukran" (thank you) to each helpful person and enjoyed the adventure.

Canada Day at Parliament Hill

My Canada started with a visit to Parliament Hill with Dad, Remy, and Christopher. We saw a lot of people, and from far far away we saw a video screen that showed what was happening on the Hill: the Governor General inspecting the guards; Prime Minister Harper giving a short speech; we could hear the singing of Oh Canada, and the beginning of the musical entertainment (traditional French Canadian fiddles and spoons and some First Nations drumming and singing).

Dad was understandably worried about the possibility of Christopher getting lost in the crowd, so we decided to take turns carrying him on our shoulders. I mused about the marketability of GPS ankle bracelets to keep track of children. Unfortunately, Greg says the microwaves would be too dangerous.

Hockey weekend

As it turns out, I had the fortune to attend two hockey games this weekend.

The first was the last regular season game of the Senators, on Friday, against the Boston Bruins. My second Sens game ever. Our seats were great. My goal of the evening was to be watching the puck when any goals were scored. I pretty much succeeded, in that my eyes were directed in the general vicinity of the puck when the three goals hit the net (2:1 for Boston in case you don't follow this sort of thing). They were not on my pizza slice, not on the drunken Sens fans in the first row dressed like gladiators, not even on my companions' smiling faces. I also saw an amazing rebound shot off the post that almost went in but for the centimeter it was off. During the intervals between plays I was able to turn my attention to my father and his friends who hosted us for this entertaining evening. A. and his wife D. are true hockey fans, originally from Montreal, who had seen all the great Habs players like Rocket Richard back in the day. D. was particularly dissappointed that the Sens just were not able to get themselves organized to win the game Friday. For my part, I had fun watching the puck.

Saturday, Greg and I watched his nephew G. play the final game of his season at a local arena. All the ten year old boys and girls were skating on their ankles up and down the ice, trying hard. The families all cheered even louder, it seemed, than the Sens fans had done the day before. G. helped his team win the game and become champions. But, all the kids were winners, right?

Overheard on the Bus

The past few days I've heard some pretty irritating conversations on the bus. Maybe it's just my mood, but I longed for silence rather than getting an earful of these chats. Thursday, two women seated behind me talked (too loudly I might add) about everything from a teenaged son's difficulties at school to a neighbour's "perverted" ways. She said the man, in his seventies, and his somewhat younger but larger wife like to go around naked in their house and even for swims in the backyard. Oh geez. I don't want to picture these things, particulary early morning. Actually the one woman did most of the talking, while the other said things like "uhuh," and "really." That bothered me too -- people should not dominate conversations, or just sit there while others do so. The quality of the conversation was below par in so many ways. I longed for my mp3 player, which I had left at home that day.

This morning, a more innocuous conversation between two men nearby, but still I wished for quiet.

On the way home this evening the most annoying of all: a young man about 18 boarded the bus and sat beside me. He was on his cell phone, and remained so for half an hour, and was still talking when we both disembarked. Where do these people get the money for these daytime lengthy conversations? What's even worse, he was obviously trying to keep his voice low and he actually covered his mouth. He was trying to talk privately right beside me on the bus! How irritating! It only made me wonder what he was saying. I caught the words "going with other men" and I figured out he was talking to a young woman, who was probably not his steady girlfriend, but he who he wished was. Painful!

Then -- get this -- he took two other phone calls in the middle of this sad romantic conversation. He asked his beloved to hold, and answered two calls along the lines of "I'm coming now. I'll be there in a few minutes." It sounded like they were guys he was meeting up to do something with soon. He spoke more loudly and stopped covering his mouth. Oh dear. Then he went back to his girlfriend and his private voice. This guy clearly has some moves to learn on the way to dating success. But really, I would have preferred to have no part of this, and to just look out the window thinking of my own daydreams and what I would make for dinner.