Wednesday, May 14, 2008
My Crew
A six pack. Five planters and a crew boss (Kayla). We commute together in a Ford F350 diesel truck, listening to music and joking with one another. We also plant off of the same caches, and eat at the same table. We are together all day. This is what I know of them so far.
BENSON 20
He is from Kelowna, though he was born in West Vancouver. His father has a PHD in Political Science and owns a bookstore. Benson likes music, and has been slowly accumulating analog studio equipment over the past several years. He says he wants to go train hopping in the USA sometime soon, and also plans on starting a record label that is loosely based on the idea of mail-art. His nose bleeds often, and once in a while he will break into a fit of giggling in which his face will go red and his voice will crack. He has the t-shaped physique of a catalogue model, with broad shoulders and an upright posture. We sometimes call him 'the swede.'
CAROLINE 24
She is from Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, and often phrases her questions with a rise and fall in pitch that reminds me of the English. Caroline was a wrestler in high school, and is also very crafty. Here she is wearing a 'costume' she made one night in camp. She wanted the crew to create alter-ego's and plant in costume one day last shift. I am not sure what super-hero she is supposed to be. I have seen her suplex Jesse. A fourth year planter, Caroline has highballed our crew almost every day thus far. She sleeps in a camper van that she bought for $1000 last summer, while planting, and always wakes up at the last possible minute.
JESSE 20
She lives in Parkdale, Toronto, goes to the Ontario College of Art and Design, and studies photography. This is her costume, a redundantly named superhero: aquaman-woman. Jesse is about five feet tall and is very slight. She is an amateur boxer with a record of 2-2, and she can punch quite hard. She has a good sense of humor, and is often sarcastic. In an ongoing joke, when you are with her and she sees someone behaving foolishly, she will tell you that that person is on your team. This is confusing at first – but quickly becomes an easy way to laugh and indicate your distaste towards other people. Her father is a grip.
ERIC 23
Eric has been working at a restaurant for the past few years. He became really fed up with it, and is now more than happy to be in the bush, surrounded by people his age, with nobody to serve. He rarely gets down, and can laugh at himself when he does. He knows a good deal about wine and enjoys coffee in a mug that has a Bob Marley sticker on it. I often tease him for the Bob sticker, which he knows to be something of a hippy cliché. He just laughs. He really likes Bob Marley. At restaurants on days off Eric is extra sensitive to the wait-staff. He has a genuine concern for the feelings of those around him. His mother is the secretary at an elementary school. He can't swim.
BENSON 20
He is from Kelowna, though he was born in West Vancouver. His father has a PHD in Political Science and owns a bookstore. Benson likes music, and has been slowly accumulating analog studio equipment over the past several years. He says he wants to go train hopping in the USA sometime soon, and also plans on starting a record label that is loosely based on the idea of mail-art. His nose bleeds often, and once in a while he will break into a fit of giggling in which his face will go red and his voice will crack. He has the t-shaped physique of a catalogue model, with broad shoulders and an upright posture. We sometimes call him 'the swede.'
CAROLINE 24
She is from Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, and often phrases her questions with a rise and fall in pitch that reminds me of the English. Caroline was a wrestler in high school, and is also very crafty. Here she is wearing a 'costume' she made one night in camp. She wanted the crew to create alter-ego's and plant in costume one day last shift. I am not sure what super-hero she is supposed to be. I have seen her suplex Jesse. A fourth year planter, Caroline has highballed our crew almost every day thus far. She sleeps in a camper van that she bought for $1000 last summer, while planting, and always wakes up at the last possible minute.
JESSE 20
She lives in Parkdale, Toronto, goes to the Ontario College of Art and Design, and studies photography. This is her costume, a redundantly named superhero: aquaman-woman. Jesse is about five feet tall and is very slight. She is an amateur boxer with a record of 2-2, and she can punch quite hard. She has a good sense of humor, and is often sarcastic. In an ongoing joke, when you are with her and she sees someone behaving foolishly, she will tell you that that person is on your team. This is confusing at first – but quickly becomes an easy way to laugh and indicate your distaste towards other people. Her father is a grip.
ERIC 23
Eric has been working at a restaurant for the past few years. He became really fed up with it, and is now more than happy to be in the bush, surrounded by people his age, with nobody to serve. He rarely gets down, and can laugh at himself when he does. He knows a good deal about wine and enjoys coffee in a mug that has a Bob Marley sticker on it. I often tease him for the Bob sticker, which he knows to be something of a hippy cliché. He just laughs. He really likes Bob Marley. At restaurants on days off Eric is extra sensitive to the wait-staff. He has a genuine concern for the feelings of those around him. His mother is the secretary at an elementary school. He can't swim.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Shift Two
My last shift started good. I started to get things back, my technique and shape, and began to feel good about it. I felt a competition growing in me. My quads were starting to fill out my pants. The weight of the trees around my hips seemed less overbearing. My hands were hurting, but getting harder. The first two days of the shift saw me steadily improving, numbers wise.
On the third day of the second shift I walked into a particularly ugly peice of land. In it, there were hundreds of boulders and fallen trees, two steep reveens and four small lakes. I couldn't find any soil. Every time I threw my shovel at the ground I would here a metallic 'TING' and feel vibrations run through my body. I didn't know where to plant good trees. .
After a few hours of this, Kayla came into my land to check my trees, as is her job as my boss. Nearly all of them were unacceptable. She said "Quality is a priority, and makes a reputation as much as quantity. If our trees aren't good enough, we can fail a block and not get paid as a company."
It went for almost two days until the piece was in passable shape. Anger swooped around inside. Kept thinking 'why am I here and what am I doing with my life?' and 'I hate this'. Rehearsed variations of 'fuck you I quit' speeches. I would like to have cried, but couldn't. 'What would a shovel sound like connecting with a human face.' I lay down for a while. If a bear had come to maul me I might not have minded. If he left me with a big scar across my face and a brush with death. I imagined myself, rugged. My scar would scare people, but I would be nice about it. 'I was mauled by a bear.’ People would remember me.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Shift One
I arrived in Williams Lake at a tiny airport. I was waiting for someone I had never seen before, and that made me nervous. I looked at everyone long enough to see if they were looking back, looking for me. There were few people in the airport. I walked to the glass door at the front where you could see the cars come in, driving in a big loop towards the front. It was too cold to wait outside. The cars came infrequently. I made my shovel visible on top of my things, so as to be easily identified, and waited.
After two hours, Kayla arrived.
We shook hands and I loaded my things into her truck. This person is my boss, and I will have to spend a lot of time with this person, so I tried to be as open and friendly as possible. I tried to ask her about herself, and reveal a little about myself. We drove up to the head offices so that Kayla could pick things up and I asked her with questions about quality and tree prices. It was snowing. Kayla got out and left me sitting in the truck for around forty-five minutes. The snow made me feel really bad for myself.
When Kayla got back in her truck, she apologized for taking so long and I said ‘no worries’ and we drove on. First, to buy some gloves at Surplus Herbies. Then, to camp, an hour and a half west of Williams Lake, on a big ranch overlooking the Frasier River, two kilometers east of Alexis Creek, BC. There are about a hundred of us there: foremen, runners, planters, checkers and cooks; drifters, college students, transient workers, rookies and grizzled veterans, mostly between the ages of 18 and 40. Below us, across the river, are five hundred cows whose mooing echoes through the valley at all hours.
It was almost dark when I arrived. I scrambled to set up my tent in a light snowfall and then spent a chilly night, fully clothed, in my sleeping bag.
I woke to half a foot of snow, which stuck around and prevented us from working until late in the day. When, eventually, we were able to bag up, the motions came back to me easily.
People are more concerned with quality here, which slows you down and prevents you from planting as many trees. The tree prices are higher, however, meaning you don’t have to plant as many to earn the same amount. I am used to the Alberta style, and have struggled thus far.
Now it is day-off, a Sunday, and everything is closed in Williams Lake save the laundromat. I had to walk three kilometers to find a net-cafe.
NOTE: In camp there is no Internet connection, so I will only be able to write on this every five days.
After two hours, Kayla arrived.
We shook hands and I loaded my things into her truck. This person is my boss, and I will have to spend a lot of time with this person, so I tried to be as open and friendly as possible. I tried to ask her about herself, and reveal a little about myself. We drove up to the head offices so that Kayla could pick things up and I asked her with questions about quality and tree prices. It was snowing. Kayla got out and left me sitting in the truck for around forty-five minutes. The snow made me feel really bad for myself.
When Kayla got back in her truck, she apologized for taking so long and I said ‘no worries’ and we drove on. First, to buy some gloves at Surplus Herbies. Then, to camp, an hour and a half west of Williams Lake, on a big ranch overlooking the Frasier River, two kilometers east of Alexis Creek, BC. There are about a hundred of us there: foremen, runners, planters, checkers and cooks; drifters, college students, transient workers, rookies and grizzled veterans, mostly between the ages of 18 and 40. Below us, across the river, are five hundred cows whose mooing echoes through the valley at all hours.
It was almost dark when I arrived. I scrambled to set up my tent in a light snowfall and then spent a chilly night, fully clothed, in my sleeping bag.
I woke to half a foot of snow, which stuck around and prevented us from working until late in the day. When, eventually, we were able to bag up, the motions came back to me easily.
People are more concerned with quality here, which slows you down and prevents you from planting as many trees. The tree prices are higher, however, meaning you don’t have to plant as many to earn the same amount. I am used to the Alberta style, and have struggled thus far.
Now it is day-off, a Sunday, and everything is closed in Williams Lake save the laundromat. I had to walk three kilometers to find a net-cafe.
NOTE: In camp there is no Internet connection, so I will only be able to write on this every five days.
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