Decisions, Decisions

It's that time again...time for the (semi-) monthly post. This month's topic - career-related decisions.

For some of you, making career-related decisions is a speck in your rearview mirror or a non-issue. I am envious. As the designated money-earner in our household, I am tasked with finding a way to earn money. I don't have a problem with earning money, but deciding where and how to do that is another story. Let me tell it to you.

I recently received a job offer from an environmental consulting company in Edmonton for the type of position for which I've been trained (Ecologist). After working with the company for 10 days at the start of September, my impression of the company and the people associated with it was positive. The work itself would likely be relatively enjoyable and the offered salary is adequate (it would be great in Manitoba, but real estate prices in Alberta are stupid). Sounds good, eh?

The downside to all this is that accepting the job would require a move to Alberta (feel free to gag now). I'm not an Alberta kind of guy...it's too big, fast, and full of money for me. More importantly, moving to Alberta requires leaving family and friends behind, which is not something we're keen on doing. We love our community of friends where we are. We love being close to family. Also, both Heidi and myself are ready to live in a more rural setting. While staying in Winnipeg doesn't accomodate that, neither does moving to Edmonton.

After I inform people of this, the next question I get is: Can you get a job like that here? The answer: Possibly, but I've yet to be offered on here, and they're harder to come by here compared to Alberta.

So the questions are: Do we sacrifice closeness with family and friends on the alter of career? Do I look for work outside of urban areas, even though it may not be in a field in which I've been trained? Would we survive in Alberta without a new pick-up? These are questions which must be answered, and they must be answered by next Friday (Sept 28).

On an infinitely more joyous note, here's more pictures of world's happiest and cutest baby.

Friesen Camp 2007

For all you Friesens out there, this blog's for you. Thanks for another great FC.

This last one was actually taken a couple weeks back, but it fits so well into the camp theme I thought I'd include it anyway.

Defend Your Honor, You Yellow-Bellied %$#)&$)#!

It's defense time. D! ###! D! ###! (my lame attempt at replicating the football game chant...the number signs just don't quite cut it). This Thursday I defend my thesis and, while I don't think I have much to be worried about, it is the final test of my knowledge regarding my masters degree, so a certain unease (which I have) does not seem out of place. Fortunately, my committee members all seem to be reasonable people who have enough self-esteem that they don't need a ego booster shot by trying to make me feel like an idiot. Hopefully the heat doesn't leach all energy from me before then.

Of course, as soon as people learn that I'm done my degree, that great inevitable question will follow - "So, what now?" or "Botany degree...what are you going to do with that?" The correct answer to both questions is, of course, "I don't know." Alternatively, I could answer "I'll sell my great expanse of knowledge and expertise to the highest bidder", but that might be drifting from humility, so I'll stick with "I don't know" for now. It seems that there is a common misunderstanding out there regarding university education. University education is generally focussed on promoting general knowledge and various skills such as reading, writing, and critical thinking. It's primary focus is not preparing a student for a specific job, other than perhaps the Education program. Community colleges, on the other hand, prepare students for specific jobs (eg: you complete the "Plumbing" program so you can plumb). So my education did not prepare me to hold a specific job, though there a variety of jobs out there which I may be qualified to do, thanks to my education. Which one will I pursue? See above for the correct answer.

Here's more pictures of Ivan.

This last picture is of my folks with their grandchildren (William, Austin, Ivan, and James).

You Gotta Love Ivan...and Flowers

Because I know you all care, this is Geum triflorum, or if you prefer a common name it's three-flowered avens, or old-man's beard, or prairie smoke. These are the seed heads. It's quite a common native wildflower. This was taken at the Rotary Prairie patch on Regent Ave in Winnipeg.

More Pics

How typical of a new parent - just can't stop shoving pictures of my kid down your throat.

The Monthly Post

Well, it's that time again, time for the montly post. This schedule is quite unintentional, but it seems that once a month is about how often I get around to putting something here. In this case, it's another picture of Ivan.

One thing I've experienced since Ivan was born is an intensity of emotion when I'm holding Ivan that is unprecedented in my life. It is an all-encompassing feeling of love and bondedness that is nearly overwhelming. All expressions of this emotion, including tears, which are typically indicate pretty strong emotions especially for a guy, are monumentally inadequate at expressing it. Being a parent really is like having your heart living outsite your body, and I'm not used to it, perhaps one never is.

Smiley Ives

Always ones to give in to popular demand, here's some more pictures of Ivan. Enjoy.

Ivan the Great

While it may sound cliche, the birth of Ivan (our son) is a significant marker on the road of my life, though what it all marks I've yet to discover. I have already found that negligence towards children, especially infants, is even less tolerable to me now than it was prior to Ivan's birth. I've also discovered that looking at a sleeping kid in a crib for great lengths of time can be quite enjoyable.

On a somewhat unrelated note, several people have commented that Ivan Hunter is a strong name. I don't recall anyone ever commenting on what images/feelings my name inspires. Perhaps it's better that way.

Now that you've worked your way through my ramblings, here's what you wanted to see - Ivan. These pictures are several weeks old. He's filled out quite a bit since these were taken.

For those interested, at birth Ivan weighed 6 pounds 1 oz and was 19.75 inches long. Cheers.

Genocide on Paper

Over the holiday season I read a most un-holiday kind of book: A Sunday At The Pool In Kigali by Gil Courtemanche. I picked it up quite by happenstance but was immediately interested in reading it.

The book is a "based on a true story" kind of book about the Rwandan genocide in the early 1990s. It recounts a fictional journalist's (presumably based on Courtemanche) experience in the days leading up to and during the genocide.

I had read Romeo Dallaire's book about the genocide, Shake Hands With the Devil, earlier so I had some sense of the horrors of the genocide and the lack of international concern. While both books are personal accounts of westerners, they are written very differently and come from different perspectives. Dallaire's book is very much focussed on the broader perspective of the genocide - the major players, the major incidents, the role of the international community (or lack thereof), and the like. While Dallaire recounts his personal experiences, there's not much from an everyday Rwanadan perspective. Courtemanche's book is very much an ordinary Rwandan perspective (as much as I can judge what an ordinary Rwandan perspective is).

While the main character is white Canadian journalist, he is close friends with ordinary Rwandans, and it is just as much their story as his that he is telling. The writing is raw, so don't expect to be cushioned from Rwandan life before and during the genocide. There are marked differences in sexual culture in Rwanda than here (as much as I'm on top of the sexual culture in either country), and there is a persistant sexual theme in the book, though not at all in a pornographic sense.

Several things struck me about the story this book tells. The first is that many of Rwandans in this book view personal pleasure as the ultimate goal in life. Perhaps we are not so different in that, but we tend to try and convince ourselves that we strive for "deeper" things, while the Rwandans in the book are very open about it as if it is the accepted norm. It seems more unwritten here. A second thing that struck me that for some reason I hadn't thought while reading Dallaire's book, is the lack of mention of any resistance to the genocidaires ("genociders"). I can't recall any mention in Dallaire's book of average Rwandans banding together to defend themselves (other than the RPF). I would have thought that as they realized what was going on, the Tutsis and moderate Hutus would have banded together to defend themselves against the extremists. There is only a brief mention of this happening in Courtemanche's book. Perhaps it happened more but that story hasn't yet (to my knowledge) been told.

Reviewers of this book have talked a lot about the moral challenges this book presents us with. While it did do this, I was challenged much more on an emotional level. After forming relationships with the people in the book, there was the persistant question of "What can I do for them?" Satisfactory answers haven't been forthcoming.

A similar genocidal scenario is playing itself out in Sudan, and likely other places, right now. What can I do about it? I can write letters to my MP, I can donate money to organizations working in the area, but these things are very impersonal and leave me with a sense of powerlessness. While reading books like Dallaire's and Courtemanche's, there were many times when fantasies of sitting on Kigali (capital of Rwanda) rooftops with a sniper rifle and picking off the genocidaires came to my mind. Then I would feel like I was doing something to stop the absurd rampage. While writing a cheque may be useful, I just don't thing it would bring the same feeling of accomplishment as actualizing my fantasy.

Some of you may be surprised and unsettled that I would have such murderous thoughts in my head. Read either of these books, and I'd be surprised if you didn't have them, too. Coming to terms with the full capability humans have for brutality (and this term seems very weak) is not an easy thing to do.