It looks like a cryovolcano erupted and spat out ice all over the city.
There’s more salt on the road and on the sidewalks than in a Breton salt marsh.
“We have to go through the garage door,” Feng warns me. “The walkway is just… solid ice. And it’s thick, eh, I tried to break it with the metal shovel but…”
Oh yes, I’m definitely back in Canada.
A friendly reminder to the rest of the world:
— Juliette Giannesini (@Xiaozhuli) March 19, 2019
It’s this time of the year where even hardcore Canadians, the kind who can be seen wearing shorts in January, are looking forward to spring, this season most of the Northern hemisphere is starting to enjoy.
My twitter feed is full of Americans expressing outrage over the latest scandal/shooting/Trump idiocy, sarcastic Europeans playing with words, and Canadians complaining about winter and comparing snow-on-ground stats.
“Were you dreaming you’re in Santiago?” Feng asked me when he woke me up the first morning.
Nope, cause in South America, I didn’t need a comforter and a blanket on top. Even in chilly Valparaíso, a regular old-fashioned blanket was enough.
I mean, South America and North America and two different worlds, there’s no possibility of confusion.
Yet, the transition, these ten hours spent on a cramped plane, a day of travel in total, was almost too fast. It’s a bit like changing channels and going from a comedy to a horror flick—the first two seconds, you’re not sure whether you’re supposed to laugh or be scared.
And on top of that, today, I’m apparently turning 36.
Crazy world, I’m telling you.
“Feng, can you take my yearly birthday pics?” I asked yesterday evening.
“Sure, where do we go?”
“Outside? Okay, just jump in the snow!”
“No fucking way. I’m not Mark!”
“Okay, let’s see… this snow bank is too high… We can try the park but it’s still too icy. Man, sidewalks are dirty when the snow melts… Oh, wow, it’s really flooded here, watch out.”
“Whatever, anywhere is fine. How come Mark masters that fake smile and I can’t? I either look bitchy or goofy!”
“Take off the jacket.”
“Hurry up, I’m cold! Okay, let’s do a selfie. My eyes look huge compared to yours, makes me feel good. Thanks, Chinese man.”
“Mark, come, take a picture of mommy too!”
“You guys are silly…”
(Like all photoshoots, this one is deceptive. It wasn’t nearly warm enough to stand outside wearing a t-shirt, it was about 0⁰C. Also, I never wear makeup but Mark and Feng absolutely love when I put lipstick on.)