Winterpeg

[Continuation of “Coming to the New World…America“. Illustrates how the people perceptions about places varying from their norms put them in a different state of mind, until personal experience and built up knowledge demystify misconceptions.]

It was almost an hour after midnight on January 2^nd, 1989, when I took my seat on Air Canada flight from Toronto to Winnipeg. It has been close to thirty hours since I left Cairo. The toll of the trip and the preparation before it has infused into my senses.  Time stopped, the off white colors of the well-lit plane cabin gave the ambiance of an emergency room, and the feeling of sedation. My senses came back alive when the captain announced our decent to Winnipeg and the approach to its “International” airport. Looking out from the window, it was the first time for me to see real snow. Flurries coming down, while the plane wings cutting through the stream of flakes. Lands covered with white snow extends as much as my eyes can see at night, with spots of lights here and there on isolated houses and in small communities. How could the plane land in such conditions, and what could happen if it slides on the runway? I was calming myself down from thinking about a possible plane crash.

We landed safely after two and half-hours from departure. Apparently, we were the only flight landing at that time. The crowd that was on the flight disappeared so quickly, and I found myself pretty much alone in a spic-and-span airport. Looking around to find someone to guide me where to go, or food to eat; I found everything closed. Where are the armed soldiers with machine guns, policemen, receptionist, any one to ask for information I found none but a phone and a yellowpages book, at a corner by an exit door…This should be an “International” airport! It was different definition than what I had in mind or seen, at least in Cairo. Anyway, it was neither the first, nor the last new thing to learn in my acclimation in the new world.

I stepped outside to check the weather, and breath the air of the new place. It was 32 degrees C … below zero! That was a 48 degrees temperature changes from where I came from. I called a taxi and waited with the three-four people that I could see remaining at the airport. A taxi stopped at the entrance, and I wasn’t sure if it was the one I called, or just a driver looking for customers. The driver took me though a road that looked really creepy at 3:30 AM. Homes are scarce; cars are covered with a couple of feet of snow; thick layers of snow on top of houses with dim outdoor lights.  I was watching ahead as if the cab was drilling into a tunnel of darkness. I said to myself, “I’m going to wait till the morning to check out the city. If it is like what I’m seeing, I’m out of here…taking the first flight back home.”

I checked into the hotel, at the end of Pembina HWY around 4 O’clock in the morning. I was very hungry. The receptionist indicated that all restaurants are closed; the only option available is vending machine, which didn’t offer much to fill in my appetite. I learned how to operate the vending machine and got a snack to help till breakfast. I went to bed for a couple of hours to rest before meeting with my professor.

It wasn’t too long before the sun rose. I opened the window for my eyes to land on a serene view. A Huge open sky with perfect blue color meeting with the white snow. A highway draws a thin line in the scene. On the left hand side, a tall building, standing on the intersecting Pembina HWY, decorated a perfect landscape shot. The streets were empty, barring some trucks running infrequently on the distant highway. As I was moving my eyes back and forth to enjoy the tranquility of the view, it landed on something that I felt didn’t belong…it can’t be for real. A blond young lady with mini skirt standing in the freezing temperature waiting for the bus. I immediately took my eyes away, looked at the layers of clothing on me, I didn’t believe what I saw. I felt ashamed of myself. For a moment, I thought it must be a creature from another planet; I wasn’t sure about my senses, probably because of the long trip. I looked again, and the bus stop was empty.

I got myself ready for breakfast. I asked the receptionist for restaurants. She mentioned few, which I have never heard about before, but the name that caught my attention had the word steak in it. “Salisbury Stake House,” she said. My stomach was growling; my heart fell to the floor and returned back in happiness. After this hectic trip, I was starving, “it’s a feast Ahmad.”  She pointed out the direction, “It’s about a 100 meters behind these two mounds of snow.” I looked outside thinking how am I going to get there? Shall I call a taxi or walk to the restaurant, which I could hardly see. I didn’t know what could happen to me if I get exposed to this extreme cold. I knew that I’m bundled up, but was not sure about the effectiveness of the clothing I had. I decided to run. Getting ready to face the element, I checked the overcoat I borrowed from my father who had it from the seventies; I covered my face, I took few deep breaths, the background music of the Bionic Man played in my mind, and I blasted off battling the Canadian winter. I ran and ran and ran, my shoes were squeaking as my feet touched the snow. After I cleared the path I came to a suden stop about 60 feet before the restaurant building to find no doors, but some windows and a sign on the right hand side. Momentarily, wasn’t sure where the entrance is, and was afraid that I’m running out of time before being harmed by the extreme cold. I ran towards the sign and found the door, got inside, removed my scarf, and took my breath in a sigh of relief. I decided not to run back to the hotel, rather use the phone at the restaurant entrance and call a taxi to take me to the hotel then the University of Manitoba.

Finally, I got to place where they sell “Steak”. Looking at dishes and comparing which has the biggest piece of meat to demolish. I opened my mouth to rip off the first piece expecting love from the first bite. I felt my teeth going into something that is different from what I know as steak. I chewed more to identify what it is; I didn’t believe my self. I examined the piece on the plate to verify what I’m thinking about. “Ground beef!” I exclaimed. I asked the lady at the serving counter, “I want steak, I didn’t order ground beef.” She replied, “That is what Salisbury steak is!” I completed my breakfast with some disappointment, and continued with my plan. 

The taxi took me and I started to see the edge of town till I went to the school, met with my advisor, Professor Glen William Swift, a very fine man. I went to complete my paper, finding a dorm, and looking around. I’m back into civilization. I decided to stay in Winnipeg.