If I was telling the story with my eyes I would start with the rows of coloured houses, if I was telling the story with my taste buds I would start with the fried cod and pork scrunchions, if I was telling the story with my hips I would start with the pain from sitting in airports and on planes, if I was telling the story with my legs I would start with the walks up and down the city's steep sidewalks, if I was telling the story with my ears I would start with a fiddle jig, if I was telling the story with my skin I would start with being soaked over and over again by the rain, but this story will be told with my heart so it begins with my passion.
I've been a storyteller for as long as I can remember and over the last 15 years I've told stories to audiences young and not so very young throughout Saskatchewan and beyond.
Until last fall I just did my own thing not really knowing other storytellers actually networked and gathered. I met a fellow teller at a writer's conference and he invited me to join a group of tellers in Saskatoon. I was immediately welcomed, entertained, touched and enlightened. I'd found a place where people communicated in a way that mattered to me and I'd found a creative home.
The same dear soul who opened my eyes to the Saskatchewan scene also told me about the national group Storytellers of Canada-Conteurs du Canada and their annual conference being held in St. John's, Nfld.
When I told my husband Reg I wanted to go to Newfoundland his first comment was "I want to go with you." We started planning, made arrangements to leave the children behind for the first time in over eight years, paid the conference fees, booked a room in the university residence and tried to find a good seat sale before settling for tickets costing more than anywhere else we've ever flown in North America. The travel days were grueling, but the adventure was worth it.
Most of our time was booked up by conference events. Reg skipped the business meetings and workshops, but attended the panels and storytelling concerts, performances and tours.
Our hosts planned a multi-cultural experience including Labrador throat singers, a trip to the site of a 400-year-old English settlement, a haunted hike of St. John's that wasn't near as frightening as the ghost walk at Fort Battleford, a dramatic performance and plenty of time to listen to stories from around the world.
My goal was to meet other tellers and be inspired and entertained. Reg's goal was to eat seafood. I listened with delight as I watched the sparkle in the eyes of tellers from across the country and from as far away as Â鶹ÊÓƵ Africa, Scotland, England and Italy. I didn't want to miss a single story and even stayed awake late into the night at a story circle that didn't end until every last teller who wanted to tell had taken a turn. I delighted in the fact stories aren't just for children and enjoyed the tellers in the pubs as much as those on the stage.
Reg thought his quest would be easy, we were at a city on the sea and all he wanted was to eat sea creatures. We had a couple of days of disappointment where we followed the wrong directions to a restaurant or visited establishments out of the menu selections before we had a delicious cod dinner at the oldest continuously operating pub in North America but, the quest continued for a lobster. We heard stories of other conference guests eating the meal, but wherever we went it wasn't on the menu or it was not available that night. We spent the last evening wandering the streets, visiting every restaurant anyone had mentioned. In the end the tiny $14 lobster sandwich in the Halifax airport I'd suggested Reg order 'just in case' on our way out to Newfoundland was the only lobster he consumed.
St. John's is a city filled with colour. The row houses are brightly painted, the churches are exquisite and flowers were well watered. We walked up and down the streets exploring the downtown and the historic neighbourhoods. Every morning our leg muscles ached for the first while as we once again got our footing and stretched out. We were treated well and every cabbie, waitress, tourguide and shopkeeper was anxious to share their own stories about their home and the history. I was delighted to listen and learn. I was surprised over and over again by a part of our nation I knew little about and had never visited.
I returned home with over 1,000 digital pictures, stories about an interesting province and tales from around the globe. I am inspired to continue to weave and share stories old and new, familiar and surprising and am so happy to have met so many wonderful storytellers.
