Well, another month has flown by and with it, another year! This month I turned 38 and had a lovely day celebrating with friends on the Toronto Islands. The islands were actually once a spit of land connected to Toronto itself but in 1858 there was a violent storm which blew a hole in the land and created a gap. Nowadays, the islands provide a break from the city's buzz and fast pace via a short ferry hop. People live on the islands and there are some Victorian houses on Ward's Island. A group of ten of us had a lovely brunch at the Rectory Cafe and then poked around the island nosing at the lovely homes as well as picking wild raspberries along the beaches.
I also treated myself to an evening at the theatre. I love musicals, part of my theatrical heritage, and so was really pleased to get a ticket for Miss Saigon, a show I've seen a number of times. It was playing at the Four Seasons Centre for Performing Arts, which is a really beautiful, modern theatre in Toronto. I had bought a $60 ticket for a seat up in the Gods. As the show opened, I was rather dismayed because I couldn't hear anything - the sound was awful. I called the usher over and explained the problem. I was somewhat taken aback when she told me that this was a preview and that they were having technical difficulties but as I had a cheap ticket, I should expect this. This riled me as I don't think $60 is particularly cheap for where I was sitting and it was actually the second night of the performance. Nevertheless, a few minutes later the curtain came down and a man appeared on stage to say that they had stopped the show as the soundboard computer had crashed. Twenty minutes later, the curtain rose again and the sound was as it should be. However, a bit later, things went from bad to worse as part of the set fell down. I was quite amused at this point but felt sorry for the cast who were actually putting on a very strong performance. Thank goodness the helicopter that flies in in the second act didn't crash through the stage at least!
Later in the month I had an altogether rather different evening when I went to a place called O.NoirThis is a restaurant based on a concept initiated by Jorge Spielmann, a blind pastor from Switzerland who used to blindfold his guests at dinner when they went to his house so that they could share his eating experience. He later opened a restaurant called Blindekuh (Blind Cow) in order to teach sighted people about blindness and provide blind people with jobs. Toronto has recently acquired a similar restaurant and along with three other friends I had one of the most interesting dining experiences I've ever had.
To begin our evening we entered the restaurant bar area, which was lit, and ordered our food. Shortly thereafter we were introduced to our waiter, Nasir, who was completely blind. Nasir asked us to switch off our mobile phones and then to place our hands on each others' right shoulders as we were led, conga-style, into the dining room. The dining room was completely dark, absolutely pitch black. Nasir helped each of us find our seats and then explained where our cutlery was on the table. There was music playing in the background but you could sense we were, at that point, the only diners in the room. Gradually more people arrived and the noise levels started to increase.
We were the first to be served and although I couldn't see a thing, I smelt the arrival of the bread basket. The fresh, warm dough balls smelt amazing. Buttering the bread, however, proved to be my first challenge. I began to feel quite stressed and was anxious about putting my knife down because I couldn't see how clean the table was. My anxiety hit me when I found myself clutching my knife and fork so hard that I dug my nails into my palm.
I wasn't the only one to have an unusual reaction. My friends and I all found we responded in different ways. As a group, we found it very difficult to manage our conversation. We found ourselves shouting and talking over one another (more than usual!) as we couldn't pick up on each others' cues. Silent periods made us feel anxious and we kept having to check in with each other to see if people were still there and were OK.
Our starters arrived and the gentle touch of our waiter on our shoulders told us we were being served. I managed to cut up my portabello mushroom quite well and only flicked it off the plate once. My friends were quite amused I'd even bothered as they all decided to abandon their cutlery and use their hands. I was intrigued by this and realized that manners don't really matter much when no-one can see what you're doing. A contrast to an all-seeing world.
The main course came, carried by a waiter with very sexy aftershave on, and I found myself talking my way through the dish narrating to the others what I was consuming and how much was left on my plate. I was the last to finish and had not resorted to fingers, or licking the plate, as one friend confessed later.
Soon, a group of giggly young women arrived making a lot of noise and screeching. One of my friends found the noise levels over-powering and as the meal progressed got more and more agitated by it. To calm the atmosphere, my other friend starting singing Stevie Wonder (!) tunes. It all had an air of Dunkirk spirit about it.Not long after, our desserts arrived and the rich chocolate and raspberry flavours tasted exceedingly good. I wonder if had I seen its presentation whether I would have felt the same.
Eventually, my friend had had enough and screamed out into the darkness to tell the gaggle of women to shut up. A verbal tussle ensued and the tension rose. In the darkness, my friend found herself grabbing the forks from the table and throwing them in the direction of the objectionable group. She only declared this later and was really quite shocked by her own actions.
We decided it was time to leave and as we entered the light, guided out by Nasir, we were ourselves blinded by its brightness. A de-brief was required as we all felt we had experienced something quite astounding and emotionally quite draining. I spent some time chatting to one of the waiters who told me that it's very common for people to shout in the dark and that there have been times they've had to escort people out as they've reacted so strongly. All I can say is I think it's something all sighted people should try. The restaurant provides employment for blind people but, perhaps most importantly, education for those who may, at times, take the power of sight for granted.
This month I was also delighted to have some visitors here. My friend Rachel and her chap, Paul, came over for just under a week. Rachel had visited me last time I was here so it was an opportunity for her to show Paul the sights and introduce him to Toronto. We had a super time and although I was working for much of their visit, we got together in the evenings for meals.We did manage to get a couple of days in where I did my best to show them around. We hired a car, a rather funky red mini, and headed out of town into the Ontario countryside.
About an hour and a half from the city is a small town called St Jacob's. Not a huge tourist attraction itself, St Jacob's is known more for its locals. These are the Mennonites, a Christian sect who believe in simplicity, a bit like the Amish. Around the town, the Mennonite farms with green roofs, and white churches dot the lush pastures. Along the roads, Mennonite families ride in their horse-drawn buggies and speak in their German dialect. The community is very traditional and the dress is almost Victorian in style. Women wear long, flower-print dresses and cover their hair with bonnets. Men wear black trousers, white shirts, braces and a straw hat. We encountered a few local Mennonites riding tractors, serving us in the shops and even riding skateboards so not all modern conveniences have been eschewed. Their curiosity about us seemed to match ours about them. We had a lovely day driving through the countryside buying eggs, beets and flowers from the farms on the way.
In contrast to the calm and greenery of the countryside, the next day we were back in the concrete-jungle of Toronto watching the annual Caribana carnival parade. The sounds, colour and costumes would probably have appeared very shocking to the Mennonites we encountered the day before but we had a great day taking in the party atmosphere. A fitting way to end the month.
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