Polar Opposites

Polar opposites

Antipode.

The direct opposite of something.

In geography, two spots on Earth that are direct opposites to each other. Antipodal points are as far away from each other as possible.

The antipode to Toronto, Canada? Yes, you guessed it: Australia.

 Augusta, to be exact, on the West coast of Australia. 18.000 km away from Toronto – the farthest point from home. Sydney not quite as distant, but pretty close: 15.555 km from T.O. 

20 hour flight. On the opposite side of the world. 

Antipodes. Polar opposites. The other extreme. Literally Upside Down.

I am back. Back to the Upside Down after four weeks of extreme opposites. Much needed time with family and friends. 

Solitude vs company. Surrounded by “my boys” that are all taller than me now and loving it. Falling over way too many (very big !) shoes in the hallway. Lively family gatherings and fun outings with friends. Eating poutine and beaver tails and sipping maple syrup and ice wine all the time! (Actually, not really, except for the last one maybe!)

Relaxation vs chores. It’s amazing how quickly you are back to the routine of shopping, cooking, washing, cleaning. While the boys are definitely doing an amazing job without me, I guess it must have been a nice change to be able to share the household chores. And have lots of food in the fridge, as my youngest pointed out.

Heat vs cold. Freezing cold! Sub-zero temperatures and lots of snow. White frosted trees and the quiet of a snowy winter day. The day I flew out of Toronto, a snow storm hit and brought 15 cm of snow to the city, which almost made me miss my plane! The people in Newfoundland only chuckled. They had just been buried in almost a meter of snow days before. Extremes everywhere.

And so I returned to Australia, the sunniest continent on Earth. Back to brilliant blue skies and bright yellow sunshine. Back to white capped ocean waves and golden sandy beaches. Back to technicolour flowers and my little blue house. Back to the sound of the surf crashing onto the shore and birds calling (yup, my friend the kookaburra is still around and guess what – he/she has a friend now!).

And sadly, at times, back to the faint smell of burnt wood and the haze from ashes in the air. Yet nothing compared to the catastrophic situation caused by the bushfires while I was gone.

“Are you actually going to go back to Sydney?”

“Are there fires where you live?”

“Will your school be closed?”

“Are you in danger?”

The constant media coverage about the Australian fires back home, mixed with fake news and a strange form of sensationalism at times, had people worried. And rightly so. An area as large as Iceland burnt, 24 people dead, an estimated billion animals perished. Some of them to the point of extinction. Homes, towns, lives lost. From afar it seemed like this entire country on the other side of the world was on fire. 

15.000 km from the devastation and catastrophe, people were trying to help. Crowdfunding on Facebook, firefighters from Canada joining Australian forces, knitting koala pouches and donating toonies at school. People across the globe getting together to help. Little beacons of hope in a word of haze and ashes.

Obviously I did go back to Sydney. My little blue house is ok. My school remains open. I am safe. But we are surrounded by a lot of wood and bush where I live and things can turn quickly at any time, as locals warn. It is bush fire season in Down Under, and an extremely catastrophic one this year. Though recent rainfalls have helped a bit, temperatures continue to be very high at times (40 degrees yesterday) and bush fire dangers are not over yet. Summer has yet another couple of weeks to go.

But for now I return to blue skies and warm sunshine, the air having been cleansed by the heavy downpours. Summer holidays only last for a few more days – time spent at the beach, cooling down in the water, relaxing on my long lawn chair on my patio. 

A few firsts since my return as well: My first swim in the ocean (did not get eaten by a shark), my first really hot day with temperatures rising to 40 degrees yesterday (very grateful for my air-conditioned studio), my first night out downtown (spent at the world’s most beautiful outdoor cinema at Sydney Harbour, watching a movie while bats circling above our heads and palm trees behind us swaying in the wind). 

And lots of everyday moments in between that make my time here in Sydney so special: running at sunrise, spending time at the beach with friends, watching the sun set over the ocean, still trying to get that coffee order right…

My two homes at the opposite ends of the world may be as far apart from each other as geographically possible (and I swear, I did not know that) and very different in many ways. Yet they also have so much in common: people being kind, the beauty of nature, the vastness of the country and its diversity, how all cars are out there to run you over, the same price for a Big Mac (according to the Big Mac Index, which apparently is a thing). On the World’s Happiness List 2019, Canada and Australia are almost ranked the same at #9 and #11, only with Austria wedged between the two countries.

Home is where the heart is. And at times it can be a bit confusing to know what to call home when you are travelling or working abroad. Throw in the country you were born and raised in, it gets really messy.

If home is where the heart is, why limit our hearts to only one place. Who made up that rule that home can only mean one place and one place only? Why not allow yourself to have more than one home, more than one country you feel connected to?

I’m not saying it’s always easy having your heart in more than one place. It can get confusing or lonely or both. Instead of belonging, you don’t feel like you really belong anywhere. 

The secret, I find, is to try to build bridges between those polar opposites I call home. Trying to stay connected, sharing your experiences, writing stupid blogs and hoping that someone will actually read them.