Diaries 1969 part 2
1969, 13 years old
I made my first trip into the USA. My parents had taken me to the US when I was a baby but since I didn't remember that, it didn't count. This one did. Two things were very noticeable the moment we crossed the border: all the flags that were flying from homes and businesses and, secondly, the increased population density. Even now you can travel for a long time before you drive through a town on the highway. Back then it was even more desolate here in Manitoba. But in Minnesota? There were houses all along the highway. I'll never forget the shock I had.
But the trip was more memorable because I spent the entire time at our destination in the company of one of the boys from church who had also made the trip (it was to campmeeting with sister churches in Minnesota). Two days later this boy phoned me up and asked if I would "go around with him". He became my first boyfriend. It lasted only about three months but recently when I bumped into his mom some place, she introduced me by saying that I nearly became her daughter-in-law. Some wishful thinking went on there, I think.
I have to chuckle at one entry made in October. "Went to Hillary’s. ... Distainful evening. Too quiet. No Christian atmosphere." I remember that evening. I did NOT enjoy myself!
Our church went out every December, knocking door-to-door collecting money for international aid programs. At 13 I was out there with the adults doing my bit. My average "take" that year was $10 a night. I loved doing this. It was always a fun challenge. We had metal canisters with a battery-operated candle sticking up from the top. A bunch of us would pile into a car, go to our assigned territory and then compete to see who could collect the most. It was always dark (sun sets around 4:00 that time of year) but we were never worried about safety (though I was terrified of dogs roaming the streets).
I developed a friendship with a university student in his early 20s who probably had romantic thoughts towards me but hid them so well I didn't have a clue until many years later when I pieced everything together. He played the violin and I played the piano and so there was a logic to our friendship but I learned so much from him. He was studying music at the university. One of his subjects was learning how to conduct an orchestra. He taught me how to read an orchestral score and Tchiakovsky's Symphony in E Minor will always have a special place in my heart. He was Chinese and would take me out to these little hole-in-the-wall restaurants. I learned how to eat with chopsticks. His twin brother was an excellent cook and I later learned a lot of Chinese cooking from him. The last day of 1969 was spent playing piano-violin duets. Years later, quite by coincidence (we'd long lost touch with each other), our sons took violin lessons together.
I made my first trip into the USA. My parents had taken me to the US when I was a baby but since I didn't remember that, it didn't count. This one did. Two things were very noticeable the moment we crossed the border: all the flags that were flying from homes and businesses and, secondly, the increased population density. Even now you can travel for a long time before you drive through a town on the highway. Back then it was even more desolate here in Manitoba. But in Minnesota? There were houses all along the highway. I'll never forget the shock I had.
But the trip was more memorable because I spent the entire time at our destination in the company of one of the boys from church who had also made the trip (it was to campmeeting with sister churches in Minnesota). Two days later this boy phoned me up and asked if I would "go around with him". He became my first boyfriend. It lasted only about three months but recently when I bumped into his mom some place, she introduced me by saying that I nearly became her daughter-in-law. Some wishful thinking went on there, I think.
I have to chuckle at one entry made in October. "Went to Hillary’s. ... Distainful evening. Too quiet. No Christian atmosphere." I remember that evening. I did NOT enjoy myself!
Our church went out every December, knocking door-to-door collecting money for international aid programs. At 13 I was out there with the adults doing my bit. My average "take" that year was $10 a night. I loved doing this. It was always a fun challenge. We had metal canisters with a battery-operated candle sticking up from the top. A bunch of us would pile into a car, go to our assigned territory and then compete to see who could collect the most. It was always dark (sun sets around 4:00 that time of year) but we were never worried about safety (though I was terrified of dogs roaming the streets).
I developed a friendship with a university student in his early 20s who probably had romantic thoughts towards me but hid them so well I didn't have a clue until many years later when I pieced everything together. He played the violin and I played the piano and so there was a logic to our friendship but I learned so much from him. He was studying music at the university. One of his subjects was learning how to conduct an orchestra. He taught me how to read an orchestral score and Tchiakovsky's Symphony in E Minor will always have a special place in my heart. He was Chinese and would take me out to these little hole-in-the-wall restaurants. I learned how to eat with chopsticks. His twin brother was an excellent cook and I later learned a lot of Chinese cooking from him. The last day of 1969 was spent playing piano-violin duets. Years later, quite by coincidence (we'd long lost touch with each other), our sons took violin lessons together.
posted by Magdaleine at 1:09 AM
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