Bigger really better?

Is bigger really better?  I'm not really sure, but I guess I'll find out now, won't I?

Or maybe I'll just realize that size doesn't mean better, it just means different (the usual conclusion I come to when I can't decide...)

So I originally wrote this as an article for the paper, but later decided it was pretty irrelevant to the average Joe, so I might write something completely different or make some major tweaks in this before submitting.  So here it is:

Streetlights.  I haven’t seen streetlights in three months! That and Tim Hortons, Starbucks, choices of what to buy and places to go! And there are so many people…

Too bad I won’t speak to a single one of those people.  As they rush past me, I wonder if the big city mentality of ‘so much to do, so little time’ is one I really want to pursue.  Even though you’re constantly surrounded by people in a big city, it’s much easier to avoid people altogether since interactions are short; “One small Iced cap with chocolate milk please,” might have been the only thing I said at the airport today.

 Back in Chisasibi, I couldn’t walk through the commercial centre without hearing my name called, or striking another conversation with a familiar or even an unfamiliar face.  The butcher, for example, who actually lived in Guelph for a while.  Small world eh?  

I’ve already been a “Katimavictim” for 3 months in the small community of Chisasibi, Quebec- a remote native community in the James Bay Cree Nation with a population of 5000.  As I am writing, I am flying to my next 3-month placement in Steinbach, Manitoba- a Mennonite community near Winnipeg.  

There are some things I miss from living in a city: streetlights, a movie theatre, bowling, a sense of time and organization. Sure I miss those things, but living in a house of 11 people was never boring.

In fact, most people in Chisasibi live in houses with many people- often three generations in the same household.  Chisasibi may have fewer people, but people tend to make more time to talk.  In a small town, interactions are not only more frequent, but often more meaningful.  Phone calls are usually pretty brief:  “when can I come over?” Most people prefer to see your face, even if just to make arrangements.

 In a big city, you’re a small fish in a big body of water, which can leave you to feel less important to others. 

Back home In Guelph, for example, I see new people every time I walk my dogs.  Sometimes I stop and talk to them, sometimes I just smile.  In Chisasibi, they know who I am before I even say a word.  “Katimavik?”  Often people will ask questions based on that and sometimes, they’ll even say “I was friends with the last group!  I should come visit!” It makes me question if bigger really is better.  

As a student of John F Ross CVI, I found that I saw more people, but when the hallways had so many people, there was always a rush to wherever I had to go next.  There were so many that would say “We should hangout some time!” and we never did. In Chisasibi, it all works out.  If there’s something you really want to do, ask around and someone will help you find the right person.  I wanted to hook our group up with spending some time in a Tipi with a fire, for example.  I asked a few people at a hockey game if they knew anyone that could help us and they said “Oh, I can find something for you!”  Another day, the school was cancelled halfway through the day due to a funeral for a woman that passed away, which many had connections to.  Most people found out through word of mouth during their lunch hour.  I guess most people don’t eat lunch alone since not too many returned to work that afternoon.

In terms of population, my next Katimavik placement is three times the size.  We won’t know as many people the same way as we did in Chisasibi, but we’re looking forward to meeting more people our age, seeing new faces and having places to go.  It might still have that small town feel, but to me, it will most certainly be a whole new perspective.

When I left Chisasibi, I could have been sad to leave, but instead I was just so excited to move onto something new. I was so happy about having the opportunity to experience that unique new perspective and to form relationships with people in the 3 months I spent living and volunteering there.  In the end, I learned that spending more time with less people means a whole lot more to me, and that’s the beauty of living in a small town.

So I wrote this on the plane on my way to Steinbach and I realize now that it's really completely irrelevant, even though there are some things in there that are interesting to know (just not article-worthy I think)