BTAM: Typing my times at Toronto


Toronto is a lovely city. I feel that I haven't enjoyed it enough. To walk on King st. or Spadina, to browse the stores or walk around at the Kensington market.


Type is a small bookstore and an example of the beauty of the city.
http://typebooks.ca/




I was pretty sure that the sentence in the cover was "There is nothing quiet in a real book". Oh, well...


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Boring Thoughts About Me (BTAM)

(This is the very first of a new section in this blog)

It is for me a very strange feeling every time I'm in Toronto. Two years ago, we landed with nothing but bags. No idea of where to spend the night, or how to get a cab, a job, a beer, or even if to stay or move to another city. El turista nunca sabe a dónde estuvo; el viajero nunca sabe adónde va*. It's hard to get a grasp on such a rich city, when you are overwhelmed by your own emotions. The two months we lived in Toronto we stayed in several places and meet so many people...   I can still smell the mold, humid carpets of the bedroom we rented in Sherbourne and Dundas west. Or the isolated loneliness of the suburbs in North York. And of course the voice recorded on the public transportation (The next station is...).

For a romantic missioner, Toronto was the chance to be a loner. My Buenos Aires was far away, our daily routine was coated by a strange feeling, a squeeze in the stomach that told me every time that this ain't home. Not in a depressing way, it just wasn't, and the feeling of desperation (we were very low in money) and the cultural gap worked like a strong dose of adrenaline. A constant downhill ride on a roller coaster. 

Trying to stay cool while freaking out in the inside.
That guy could use some advice
Thus, we started a new life in another country. And Toronto was the one who informed us of the new situation. We eventually moved to Winnipeg, start working, decided to stay longer and we even got a permanent resident status, but Toronto became to me some sort of thermometer. From the very first morning we landed with just luggage and jet lag up to now, I've visited Toronto three times just as a transit passenger. For a couple of hours. Every time I'm walking on Younge st, or somewhere in downtown I can recall, with my deepest emotions, the time we lived here. I compare it with my each-time current situation, go contemplative, and I feel the squeeze again.


*CAPARROS Martín, La Guerra moderna. Buenos Aires. Editorial Norma, 1999. Pg 9.

Ubicación: Toronto, Ontario, Canadá

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