Chapter 10 - the Dickasons as chaperones
“Little momma” and “big daddy.” These were the nicknames that 21 students gave the Dickasons within an hour of the first orientation meeting for the Young Voyageur Program venture from Nanaimo in 1972. Another NDSS mentor, Peter, later to be the school Vice-Principal and then Principal, with his wife Maureen, had been the chaperones for the central Vancouver Island contingent previously. They suggested to the Dickasons that they should apply for the position - they did and were accepted.
A previous experience with chaperoning students was at a four day camp for gifted Maths students in Victoria, Australia, the summer before the first trip to Canada. Les was invited to give lectures to the students on Statistics and Probability, and Pat was welcome to attend to assist with supervision of the Form 5 [grade 11] students. A sergeant-major style spinster was in charge of the camp and very forcibly laid down the law on opening night to the assembled students. Students were housed in single-sex dorms of a multi-building Scout Camp and the Dickasons had a bedroom in a separate building.
Given that the ‘boss’ had drawn the line in the sand, the students spent almost as much time at the camp trying to break rules without being caught as attending lectures and working in study groups. During the first night, lecturers and supervisors were out searching the nearby bush with torches/flashlights to guide them at 3am when it was discovered that three students were not in their beds. When found, they were interrogated by the leader, and then expelled. Phone calls were placed to parents who were obliged to come to the camp and take the offenders home. Making an example of those three resulted in a trouble-free camp after the word spread at lunch that day. The Dickasons profited from that experience but applied a different approach when chaperoning in future years.
The Young Voyageur Program was a Canadian Federal-Provincial one designed to give the opportunity for inter-Provincial travel to deserving students. Groups of 21 students and two chaperones were established in BC zones; the groups were matched with zones in other provinces, and well-planned exchanges followed. Students applied to be selected for the all-expenses-paid program. The selection criteria, for BC at least, included passing grades, reliability, activity in the community, and evidence of no experience with ‘out of province’ travel in recent years. Our group was selected by the provincial organizers from six school districts centred on Nanaimo, and had 11 girls and 10 boys, in grades 10 and 11.
The Dickasons invited the students to NDSS on an early June Saturday for an orientation meeting. The students tolerated the theatre-games Les introduced as ice-breakers as the students learned more about each other and their hopes for the exchanges. To avoid a repetition of the math camp experience Pat conducted a small group activity which resulted in the students drawing up and signing-on to a code of conduct which included acceptable behaviour in public and in private while travelling. The light blue sports bags, with the logo of the program and the bi-lingual printing on the side, were distributed, and the DIckasons promised to communicate the itinerary and hosting group information when available.
Also in June, with the help of a small group of the students, the Dickasons began the planning for the return visit of the hosting students. After our travel in mid-July, the students who hosted our group would cross the country to spend a week in our zone and a program of activities was required, budgets were to be set, and all to be approved by the Provincial co-ordinator Philip Kitley. He soon sent packages with itinerary details and tickets - our group, #925, was headed for Montreal!
Some of the Young Voyageurs in our group had never been “off” the Island. For them, even the ferry trip to Vancouver was a thrill. When the plane from Vancouver left the ground with the 23 of us seated in the back rows, there were at least 15 excited squeaks from the novice fliers. The view of the Rockies had students clambering over each other and swapping window seats so others could marvel at the peaks and take photographs.
It was a short flight though - we disembarked in Edmonton where a bus whisked us to the Royal Alberta Museum to spend time viewing “Our Cultural Heritage” a special exhibition opened that summer. The outward itinerary with its precise timing soon dictated that the group returned to the bus for a trip to ---- the train station! Before we left the Museum, it became obvious that a quick way of checking that all noses were present was needed. One student, a Girl Guide, suggested we adopt her strategy whereby five groups of four were established, each with a ‘boss’ who reported to the 21st student who would report to ‘big daddy.’ On the bus to the train station, the five groups were agreed upon, the reporter to Les was nominated, and the group practised counting bodies. Later this would prove to be a wonderful time-saver, and gave the students in our group a smug feeling when it was used swiftly and successfully in the presence of other Young Voyageur groups.
The Dickasons were embarking on a four day, three night trans-Canada trip on a train with a family of 21 teen-agers! The significance of the 21 student limit became evident as we occupied our own rail car with upper and lower berths for 24, the other berth was for a conductor. There were no showers for our class of travel - and teen-aged girl’s concerns about hair washing dominated the first hour of travel east on the prairies.
The excitement of our charges was infectious as in pairs and trios they explored the length of the train - dining car, domed observation car, bar, passenger seating, and cars with bedroom accommodation - and returned to their seats to compare notes. Being together in a section of the dining car for the first dinner aboard, with menus and jacketed waiters, produced more bubbliness, and ‘shushing’ from the more aware students who realized the group might disrupt other diners.
When the students vacated the dining car leaving big daddy and little momma to enjoy coffee in peace, other adults came to ask us about our group. Some made comments which praised our bravery, others asked how we would keep them from terrorizing the train. Our replies [with fingers crossed behind our backs] were that the students had been carefully selected, understood the need to behave, and that we had the utmost confidence in them. Several of the enquiring passengers gave knowing looks which we interpreted as “good luck.”
Back in our railcar, we discovered that the seats had been converted to lower bunk beds, the upper bunks were lowered, and curtains were pulled across each bunk. The 23 of us had to choose between an early night or sitting in the dome car until ready for bed. Given that we had started that day by assembling at Departure Bay ferry terminal in Nanaimo, and had crammed a huge amount of excitement in one day, the lights were soon out, and our car was silent.
At breakfast, our eastbound train was held in a siding as a westbound freight train passed. Some observant female students, having spied the “Do Not Hump” sign on the side of some passing boxcars, somewhat cheekily asked their waiter what it meant. Receiving a blushing shrug of shoulders in response, the young ladies asked big daddy. Sensing a teachable moment, Les admitted to not knowing and challenged them to find the answer before we reached Toronto.
Any fears we had that our Young Voyageurs might terrorize the train were soon laid to rest. Within 24 hours of boarding the train, possibly tiring of reading and card playing, several students initiated an informal child-minding service for passengers with young children. Ross, coincidentally one of the five children of the teacher who had offered the Dickasons the use of a house in the summer of 1969, seemed to be the ring-leader, but others of our gang co-operated immediately. Parents were approached, an offer to mind their youngsters in the dome car was made, and when the offer was accepted, the parents took naps or went to the bar car for a quiet time without their children.
As the train scooted across the prairies more of our students were involved in spending time with a growing gaggle of adoring children who loved the songs, games and story-time that resulted. After dinner on the second night, we were surrounded by grateful parents who stopped to express their surprise, admiration and gratitude for what was transpiring. With some adults who had wished us “good luck” the previous night we had to refrain from saying, “We told you so.”
Not long after lights out that night, our car erupted with excited squeals - out the left side windows a spectacular aurora borealis [northern lights] was beginning. Students from the right side clambered in to bunks on the left, and all in #925 “oohed and aahed” at the beauty and splendour on display for almost an hour. Les quietly thanked the Roman goddess [Aurora - not a travel goddess but of dawn] for rewarding the students for their generosity during the day with this great once-in-a-lifetime gift.
Winnipeg next stop! Eleven young ladies and Pat were very eager to leave the train with quarters, shampoo, soap and towels in hand to use the coin-in-the-slot showers on the station during the two hour stop there. The men in our group were a bit blase about this, having managed with the tiny basins in the toilets on the train. They preferred to walk up and down the platform to stretch the legs.
Before the train resumed its journey, Les had one of the most embarrassing moments of his life to that date. Since, the incident has entertained many audiences to whom Les has spoken socially and professionally.
On a crowded platform, with many of the passengers who knew Les from the first two days within earshot, he was surprised to find three of our young ladies, clad in the hot-pants then in vogue and with towels around their still wet hair, skipping down the platform yelling excitedly, “Big daddy, daddy, we found out how to hump!” On that previously noisy platform there was stunned silence as all heads turned to the quartet - Les with red face, the three excited ladies all talking at once as they explained that they had knocked on the Station Master’s office door and asked him what “do not hump” on a boxcar meant. He solved their mystery.
These three had taken up the challenge from breakfast the previous day, asked personnel on the train but did not find anyone with a satisfactory answer. Washing their hair was priority one in Winnipeg; solving the riddle of the boxcar sign was next. Apparently in many shunting yards, when freight trains are assembled, boxcars are pushed up a slight incline [hump] and as they roll down off the hump can be switched electronically from track to track to form part of the correct train to their assigned destination. Some cars carry fragile goods so are labelled “Do not hump.” So much for teachable moments! In the bar car that evening, some good natured teasing took place with passengers making comments such as “daddy, do all your girls know how to hump now?”
Nothing to report about the time spent passing north of the Great Lakes - though our students did comment on the fact that they had expected crossing Ontario from the border to Toronto would be shorter and faster than it was.
The first glitch in the marvellous itinerary planning occurred when we left the train in the Toronto station. The sheet for that day indicated that a bus would be waiting, and we loaded our luggage, did a nose count and expected to leave. However the bus to Ottawa was for group #925 and another Young Voyageur group from the province of New Brunswick and their train was delayed.
Eventually the loaded bus headed to Ottawa, with the two groups of students shy of each other for about 30 minutes. One or two students broke the imaginary line between the groups, and soon many conversations were taking place as NB students and BC students swapped stories of their travels so far. University of Ottawa dormitory buildings housed at least 10 Young Voyageur groups passing through the capital that night. University students had been hired as proctors for night shifts, so the Dickasons did not have to do bed checks, and slept more soundly than on the train.
Pat however was sufficiently sleep-deprived that when preparing for the next day she mistakenly used hairspray instead of her underarm deodorant, making her late for breakfast in the cafeteria. A full day’s activities lay ahead, and our group was soon on another bus, shared with a group from Prince Edward Island for the day. Our group system of counting heads and reporting to big daddy was in marked contrast to the haphazard counting of the PEI group. After each stop on a sight-seeing morning, our driver asked if all were present and ready to re-board. Group #925 took less than 30 seconds to respond with Les saying, “yes;” the leaders of the PEI group took at least three attempts to count before they could answer with certainty - their teenagers kept moving, changing position, and even ducking behind one another to confuse their frustrated chaperones.
Box lunches were provided and eaten as the bus drove us to the Parliament Buildings. The MP for our group’s electoral district then was Tommy Douglas, and group #925 was the envy of other groups arriving because he met us and informed us he would conduct our tour. Other groups were led by summer tour guides. When introduced to Pat, Tommy Douglas expressed concern at how tired she looked and asked his Secretary to take Pat to his office so she could put up her feet and have a cup of tea.
With 22 in tow this remarkable gentleman took time to provide a most comprehensive explanation of the workings of the House and the Senate, and patiently answered the questions of students who hung on every word. Having resigned as NDP party leader in 1971, he retained his seat in the House and had been re-elected in 1972 to represent Nanaimo-Cowichan-the Islands.
Cafeteria food at the University dorms was followed for the students by mingling with yet more arriving groups of Young Voyageurs. With lights out supervised by the proctors, the Dickasons walked away from the campus, found a quiet bar and had the first relaxing drink together since leaving home. As we were walking back to the dorms, the heaviest rain storm accompanied by thunder and lightning completely drenched two amazed chaperones.
Another bus was waiting after breakfast and the trip to Montreal was full of anticipation as the itinerary showed meeting hosting students and their families at lunchtime. Our counterparts for the host group, Armand and his wife Pierette greeted us, Armand read from his list, the students were soon paired, and parents whisked them off to their homes for an unscheduled afternoon and evening.
While driving from the rendezvous, Armand’s school district office, to their home in Dollard-des-Ormeaux, in English we answered the questions asked by Armand in his slightly accented English. Pierette sat quietly but eventually asked “Parlez-vous Francais peut-etre?” Les began his prepared French response but hardly managed to start a second sentence before Pierette turned and said excitedly, “Vous etes Australiens!” She had listened to the English conversation and did not recognize our accents, but when Les used his High School/University French, she picked the accent immediately! We learned later that she was teaching French part-time at Berlitz School in Montreal and several of her students were from Australia.
The students gathered at the bus pick-up point the following day, the BC students huddling and talking non-stop, and the hosting students doing likewise 20 metres away. However, once aboard the bus, the groups mingled. The days in Montreal flew by, the mix of sight-seeing, tours, and free-time for hosting students becoming a blur.
On occasion, Pat and Les became counsellors to #925 students who were experiencing home-sickness or discomfort at being with a host family with problems. On the flight from Montreal to Vancouver, more stories were told, and we realized that some of our students had experiences in host families which were rather difficult in terms of language, customs, and coping with host student’s siblings or parents.
We also heard anecdotes of adventures which would have caused Dickason panic if we had been present at the time. One group of three visitors and three hosting students had been stranded at the Expo site after conning a bouncer into allowing them in to a nightclub. The Montreal students had not realized that public transit had already stopped running by the time they left the club, but a friendly man on a scooter came by and asked if he could help. He promised that he had a friend with a car who could assist, and took one of our girls on the scooter to locate his friend. The remaining five began to be concerned after half an hour, wondering if they would ever see Nicky again. But, a large sedan arrived with an unconcerned Nicky smiling in the front seat. The six students crammed in, and all arrived home safely just after 3.30am!
The Dickasons and the students had but 10 days to finalize plans for the return visit of Montreal students to Central Vancouver Island. When the list of Montreal travellers arrived from Armand, there was a surprise; few students on the list were those who had hosted our students previously. Upon checking with the BC co-ordinator for an explanation, a lesson in Federal-Provincial relations was learned. Though the rules of the program insisted that students selected should have little travel experience, the province of Quebec had somewhat different rules.
There, students were selected to travel to neighbouring Ontario in grade 10, could then travel again to the Maritime provinces when in grade 11, and again in grade 12 to the West. Initial and continuing selection to the program was, it was inferred, based on the influence of parents, not the conditions applied in other provinces. Consequently, our students were due to host a majority of grade 12 students who had considerable prior experience with the Young Voyageur program, but had not hosted our students earlier.
Although our students had assisted in planning a program to feature the outdoor activities and natural beauty of our island, they were soon disappointed to find that most of the visitors showed little interest. A bicycle tour of Gabriola Island, walking on Rathtrevor Beach, hiking in Cathedral Grove, touring the pulp mill, and even sailing with members of Nanaimo Yacht Club produced more yawns from the visitors than smiles and enthusiasm.
The hosting students put on brave and hospitable faces however and enjoyed the activities they had selected and planned for the visitors. At the wind-up seafood barbeque at the Nanaimo Fish and Game Club polite speeches were made and smiles were evident. Nevertheless, there were some relieved locals when the ferry left the next day. The Young Voyageur program was intended to provide travel experiences and to enable students to learn more of other provinces. Our hosting students, and the Dickasons, were taught quite a revealing, and likely unintended, lesson in Federal and Provincial matters.
The Dickasons had one more surprise ahead at the re-union of #925. Students insisted on a meeting, so an evening was set in September, and all were asked to bring photographs and two favourite souvenirs of the trip to the east. When these reliable, well-behaved, responsible students met and laid out their souvenirs, Pat and Les were embarrassed to find that nearly all of them were pieces of the train! Railcar name-plates, silver-ware, ashtrays, cups and saucers, seat numbers, menus, and toilet signs were placed alongside a metal sign with an arrow pointing to the Station Master [from Winnipeg station], and one large red stop sign with Arret [taken from a corner when waiting for a ride at 3am?]. Les was tempted to put out the small wine glass with a Canadian Pacific logo from the flight home, but frowned at the pilferers instead and smiled as he looked at photographs.
A second exchange
Despite the disappointments described above, the Dickasons agreed when Kitley asked them to be chaperones again in 1973. The process was repeated in May, planning and approvals completed, and students gathered for orientation.
The differences from one year to the next were soon evident. No train trip but a flight to Ottawa, just one night in Ottawa, Tommy Douglas was out of the country, and our destination was Quebec City not Montreal.
However there were surprises. Unlike the Montreal hosts, the Quebec City student group had been selected from the city’s ‘alternative schools’ and had records of difficulties in school. This proved challenging to Les’ counterpart, Giles, as they required much more supervision than other student groups.
The rendezvous, in the evening after a long bus trip from Ottawa, was in downtown Quebec City, and after introductions, parents departed with the luggage of our students. This left 42 students, Les, Pat and Giles to walk with just a minimum of carry-on bags - to the Old City Goal! In planning the activities for our week in Quebec City, the hosting students gleefully opted to spend a night sleeping there as our introduction to the historic city. The old site had been renovated recently, and groups could make a booking to stay there overnight. Sleeping bags and pillows had been delivered before our arrival.
Pat and Les had one cell - Giles had another - boys were in a large dormitory space, girls in two similar ones. Students, despite lights out, were too excited to sleep, and much exchanging of information, translations of swear-words, boys calling to girls, and girls giggling continued in bursts.
By midnight, Giles realized that Pat was not very comfortable, so he offered to drive her to his house in the foothills of the Laurentians about 30 minutes distant. His wife and two young children had not come to the rendezvous, but Giles assured Pat that she would be welcome there. While Giles drove home and back, Les had the responsibility for the 42 students, few of whom were sleeping. He was reminded of the Peter Sellers comedy sketch about a trendy co-ed school; Headmaster Sellers is asked by parents how he separates the sexes - his reply “if necessary, I prise them apart with a crowbar.” Les had no crowbar but needed a very gruff voice in the darkness to persuade some students to return to their own dorm and stay there.
When Pat returned the next morning, to hug a very tired Les, Giles informed us that he had arranged for the Dickasons to spend the nights in a little hotel downtown. He was worried that daily travel to and from their home, and their squealing youngsters would not be very restful. We moved into a lovely room in Place des Armes overlooking the “Rue de Tresor” commonly known as Rue des Artistes, and quickly agreed this benefit would compensate for the first night in the clink.
Day trips were very different from those in Montreal in 1972. Group #925 met as planned and boarded the bus, but rarely were there more than ten of the host students. They were free spirits, and went their separate ways during the days we spent at the Plains of Abraham, the Quebec Legislative buildings, walking through Old Town, and driving out along the St. Lawrence River. Dickason counselling of students who were concerned about the host family situation was more intense than in Montreal, and one situation resulted in Pat urging Giles to make a change of host family - he did.
Giles proved to be a valuable asset to the Dickasons with his wine and food advice. He insisted we visit recommended French restaurants, had made a reservation weeks earlier for us at one of them, and provided a blow by blow description on how to avoid the 2 hour line-up at his absolute favourite, Cafe de la Paix which did not take reservations. Paraphrasing his advice: go straight to the front of the line without making eye-contact with anyone in the line; ask the doorman “Pour boire?” and he will show you to a stool at the bar; order “vin blanc du maison;” later, order another; tell the barman when he serves you “mangez maintenant, s’il vous plait:” he will nod to the waiter, and he will seat you at a table and take your wine there; then, order dinner and enjoy. We followed the advice and it worked. We tried not to smile after our lovely meal when we walked past the line to return to our hotel and recognized some who had been in the line earlier when we entered.
On the weekend during our visit, Giles and his wife Anne-Marie invited us to join them at a large, family barbeque at a relative’s house and huge garden in the Laurentians. The food was delicious, the wine of very good quality, and Giles and his political friends began a good-natured though sometimes heated debate with Les. The terms separatism and sovereignty were introduced. Apparently some of the guests that day were ‘movers and shakers’ and writers in the groups which wanted no part of Canada in the future.
The finale for our time in Quebec City was a combined event for four visiting Young Voyageur groups and their hosts in a large hall with a buffet dinner. The head of the Quebec government department which oversaw the program was there, and Giles called the eight chaperones of the visitors together and asked them to select a spokesperson to respond to the closing remarks of this politician. Les was pushed forward, and with his French almost passable after two summers of practice, made a gracious thank you in both official languages - though he bit his tongue and did not comment on the differences within the program from province to province.
After dinner Giles informed the Dickasons that he had recommended to his boss that his hosting students not be permitted to travel and represent Quebec, admitting that the ‘alternative school’ students would not make good ambassadors. On the flight back to Vancouver, we communicated this to Group #925 and a polite but heartfelt cheer was heard.
Almost immediately upon our return, Kitley informed us that the in-coming Young Voyageur group would be from Toronto, Ontario. The students were from a large city, had not travelled often, and were absolutely in awe of the west coast homes, the scenery, the outdoor opportunities for baseball, cycling, kayaking, sailing, swimming in the ocean, walking the beach and in the forests. Their chaperones could not say enough about the area or about our wonderful students and their familes. There were tears from many students when the ferry sailed with the Ontario group aboard.
A single example of the benefits of the Young Voyageur program will suffice here. One student in our second group, Don, was barely a C+ student and started the orientation meeting with a chip on his shoulder, seemingly too mature for the ‘games.’ On the tour of the Parliament buildings in Ottawa, however, he was glued to the shoulder of our guide - he thoroughly enjoyed using his French in the Gaol - he found that when he continued to use it in conversation with the young ladies of the Quebec City hosting group, they were drawn to him like a magnet. Later in the week, he sidled up to Les [who was his counsellor at NDSS] to indicate that he wanted to change his timetable for Grade 12 from Art and Industrial courses to all the language courses available to him [French 12, Spanish 11 and 12, and Japanese 11]. Several years later Don phoned to boast of his Masters degree in Modern Languages and appointment as a translator in the House of Commons in Ottawa. Years later we learned he was at the United Nations in New York City - as a translator.
Soccer tour to California
The Dickasons passed the Young Voyageur chaperone position on to another counsellor at NDSS for the next summer, but a year later the coaches of the school soccer team approached and asked if we could assist with the planning and chaperoning of a visit to California to play against school teams just outside San Francisco. The eight-day trip was scheduled for the Easter break and would involve 15 students, two teachers, a local soccer-mad doctor, Les and the four spouses.
The soccer players were to be billeted by students in Cupertino, just south of San Francisco near San Jose, and the three games were to be in that vicinity. The coaches of the Cupertino team made all local arrangements, NDSS students raised money for airfare, and one of the coaches of our team made airline bookings. All was set - until the travel gods growled when we reached the car rental desk at the San Francisco airport.
The Cupertino coach had reserved two 12 passenger vans for our visit. However when Les and coach Ron presented their BC driver’s licences and credit cards, the agent asked for evidence of ‘out of state’ and ‘multi-passenger’ insurance. The Cupertino coach had not checked into this requirement and had not informed us we should obtain it before leaving Nanaimo. It was Sunday afternoon so phone calls to insurance agents in Nanaimo were not likely to be effective in solving the dilemma.
Time for Plan B. Les switched the reservation to five large sedans - five driver’s licences - five credit cards - and with the NDSS soccer team divided into five trios, our convoy was soon on the way out to Cupertino to the school, though juggling the luggage for adults and students in each car was not simple.
At the school, students were paired with local students and driven off to hosting families, and the chaperones drove to the motel to rest and discuss a solution to the car versus van problem. The meeting was short; nothing could be done until morning. The eight relaxed over dinner and had an early night after a trying day of travel and transportation battles.
Monday morning Les placed phone calls to his Insurance agency, the Principal of NDSS who was to phone the School District lawyer, and the rental car agency at the airport. Although the Nanaimo insurance company offered to write additional insurance coverage at a very high premium and fax details to the airport, the lawyer advised that it might not be legal, and the rental car agency confirmed this. Consequently for all itinerary events that required us to transport our 15 students, the four men drove and three of the wives took turns in driving the fifth car [at their request, in the third spot in the convoy].
After this arrangement had been accepted, the group settled into a pattern of alternating game days and sightseeing days with some formal activities with soccer and school officials at lunch or dinner on game days. One day trip was a drive to Santa Cruz where the soccer players let off steam swimming, playing volleyball on the beach, cruising the boardwalk and screaming their heads off on repeated rides on the roller coaster at the oldest amusement park in California. Les rode once - Pat said no!
The other free day was reserved for San Francisco. We drove in convoy to the closest park and ride Bart station, Milbrae. The enthusiastic Nanaimo gang rode the Bart train together, but each rental car load was ‘on its own’ once downtown was reached. The Dickasons had a reliable trio of players in their car and gave them four hours to explore while we visited MOMA, the city’s Museum of Modern Art, and had a pleasant lunch. Our trio arrived at the appointed place four hours later and we retraced our steps to Bart, Milbrae, and to the hosting homes in Cupertino. Some other chaperones had to round up their tardy students and took longer to return.
After several nights of motel restaurant food, Les and Pat excused themselves the next night and drove to a highly rated restaurant in the Los Gatos hills - dining on country pate, the smallest but tenderest Californian lamb chops, and drinking a Heitz red wine.
The trip back to Nanaimo was uneventful, the accounts were checked and the total rental car bill for five vehicles was almost identical to what had been quoted for two vans for the week, so no extra fund raising was required. Four years later, when the Dickasons moved furniture and belongings to a rental house in Victoria, BC, they were pleasantly surprised to find the driver of the moving van was none other than one of the players, Ron, who had shared the drive to San Francisco for sightseeing on that trip. He later moved us back to Nanaimo, and in 1998 was involved in the Dickason move to Edgewood - then as owner of the moving company.
Japan - Les and Pacific Rim Initiatives
Skipping ahead thirteen years, Les, as Director of Programs and Professional Development for SD 68 in that year, was given the task of arranging a tour of students from Nanaimo and Parksville to Japan using funding from the Ministry of Education’s Pacific Rim Initiative program. Using contacts at Malaspina College, which had twinned with Japanese institutions, a schedule and itinerary was prepared, students applied and 17 were selected. When chaperones were discussed by School Superintendents, Les was appointed for SD 68 and a counsellor, Sue, from a SD 69 school was to be the other. In preparation for the trip, Les arranged for evening sessions for the students with local Japanese-Canadians to learn basic language skills, geographic and cultural information with an emphasis on manners and protocol, and to develop guidelines for conduct and expectations when travelling and in Japan.
Travel gods tried twice to delay or seriously influence the trip at Vancouver airport. Just before the bus carrying our tour group arrived at the terminal, a car had careered off the road, jumped over the kerb and through the plate glass doors of the terminal building. Police blocked traffic, fire trucks and ambulances swept in, and chaos reigned for a time. There was no fire, no leakage of fuel, no injuries, though much shattered glass. Emergency vehicles departed, and we were permitted to unload in time for check-in and boarding.
Although well before “9/11,” hand searches of carry-on luggage at YVR had recently been introduced. One of our bright, outspoken young ladies, observing the search of her very full bag turned to her friend and said: “It’s not as if I’m likely to be carrying a bomb or anything.” The world of security stood still. A stunned Mary Jane [name changed to protect her identity from parents who might read this chapter] found herself being escorted from the line into an office. Stepping out of the line to inform officials that he was the responsible adult for the group, Les was soon alone in an adjoining office. At first, interrogating officials refused to allow her to fly, then the position changed to having Les and Mary take a later flight after thorough background checks. As the first boarding announcement for our flight was made, Les discovered that his third and most senior interrogator had previous experience as a chaperone of teenagers; he sympathized, relented, and the relieved pair of travellers dashed to the gate, showed boarding passes, and were the last two boarding the aircraft!
As the plane left the ground, there were 16 very quiet teenagers who were dying to ask questions, and a very embarrassed Mary. Twenty minutes later, Les and Sue knelt beside each row of students and discussed the matter quietly and briefly, using the incident as an example of what could damage our reputations and cause disruption of the balance of the trip. After the meal, the group’s normal liveliness returned, though Mary took longer to relax.
The ten days in Japan could occupy a complete chapter. The organizing group had planned an exhausting but comprehensive visit which included highlights such as travel on the bullet train, the memorial at Hiroshima, the gardens and temples of Kyoto, the city of Osaka, as well as downtown and suburban Tokyo. Accommodation for the visit was a combination of university dormitories, a monastery, two sets of home stays, and a traditional Japanese Ryokan or inn. We were provided with five university students who, when we were not in home-stay situations, travelled with us, translated, and gave guided tours when no formal tours existed at sites visited.
While magical settings such as the Golden Pavilion in Kyoto and the surrounding gardens were superb, the more indelible memories are of the people and their generosity, the interaction with them and of the cultural differences.
When planning was underway long before the project was finalized, students in our group were mailed very detailed forms to complete to guide the Japanese organizers in pairing them for the two home stays. Les made a request to be treated as a student and be assigned home stays too instead of hotels for the nights scheduled. Later Les realized that these forms were the reason the home stay activities he experienced were so aligned with his interests.
From a home in suburban Tokyo, for example, his host brother [a 14 year old boy] and his father escorted Les to downtown where a wood block print gallery was first on the agenda. That was followed by wonderful seats at a Kabuki opera where the host brother caught several naps, but Les was fascinated by the staging and costuming, though the music was not totally accessible to the western ear. The last stop was a visit to a food market where after a tour of incredible stands selling tuna and vegetables the father bought cuts of very expensive beef - wagyu and kobi. That night, the family ate around an electric grill plate, and the beef seared in the pan teppanyaki style was mouthwatering and tender and served with many other tantalizing small dishes and sauces, sake and Japanese beer.
In bed that night Les realized that on the forms months before he had written as interests - Art, Theatre, Music, Wine and Food. The family had been given this information and had followed through to the letter. Another reason for the generosity might have been that the previous night, Les had presented gifts to the host family; for the mother smoked BC salmon, for the father a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label from duty free at YVR. Two days later, while waiting for the bullet train at Tokyo station Les saw the same bottle in a store and noted the price in Japan was five times what he had paid in Vancouver. What would have been a very fine gift in Canada was an extremely generous one to a Japanese doctor, as Les’ host father was.
The students laughed twice on their first night in the dormitories in Tokyo. The first laughter came when they read the itinerary for the following days, and noticed times for bus and train travel as specific as 9.37 or 13.42. Sue and Les reminded them that at their sessions with Japanese-Canadians in Nanaimo, the guest instructors had warned that everything in Japan was exactly on time. For the entire Japan tour, nothing was late. In the first few days, a couple of our more random students were strolling to a pick-up point and had to run to catch the bus as the door was closing. No later tardiness was experienced.
The other laughter was of the nervous variety - our guides told us to bring shower packs and towels because at 8pm we were all headed for the Japanese Public bath-house a block distant. One of our more timid students asked if she should bring a swimsuit - the answer was a definite no. Twenty minutes later, all the young men were naked on the male side of the bath-house, and steered through the various pools of hot, very hot and very cold water by our guides. Some were a little leery of the supervisor, an older Japanese lady who sat fully dressed high above the wall dividing the male and female sides of the building, but with a view through the steam to both halves. The female guides admitted to Les later in the week that they were surprised how modest the Canadian young women had been that night in front of the older Japanese women in the various pools.
Another cultural difference of note experienced by the students that week, reinforced months later, was the honesty of the Japanese. Three examples; first, while waiting for the bullet train to Hiroshima, our students were milling around on the Tokyo platform and window shopping. One of our excitable young ladies, called by a friend to “Come and look at this!” had crossed to her friend, and left her carry-on bag sitting in the middle of the platform. Almost immediately, two shop-keepers emerged from their stores and stood beside the bag, discussed the situation, decided which of the two would stay with the bag, and which would return to work. When our student realized what she had done, she dashed back, only to find her bag had a self-appointed guard.
On a bus after we had left a monastery early one morning, a student realized she had left her dental retainer on a basin in the bathroom. She reported it to our guides who promised to phone later in the day and report it. Five days later, during our final day in Tokyo, the retainer, carefully wrapped, arrived by courier to the organizing company’s offices, and it was sent to the dormitory for the return to its owner that night.
The final night in the dorms, students found that packing for the flight home was complicated by the generosity of their most recent host families who had presented each student with one or more gifts - some of them very large. Despite some cooperative packing, extra bags, and sitting on cases to shut them, some students admitted defeat, and as Les and Sue learned on the flight home, had simply left some items [a stuffed pink elephant among them] in the drawers or carefully hidden in waste baskets.
Three months later, Les was invited to Malaspina College to lunch with some of the executives of the organizing group who were visiting Canada. Before lunch, Les was presented with a suitcase containing all abandoned items, along with the explanation, in translation, “the students were in such a rush to pack they forgot these and we have returned them.”
Hierarchy was another revealing cultural difference. Although the students only scratched the surface of the class or racial hierarchies, they were very aware of the sexual kowtowing which they experienced daily.
Our group had five guides. The three young ladies were bright, friendly, very skilled in English, and mingled with our students, Sue and Les. The two young men were almost the opposite, lacking in English skill, morose, very aloof, and they kept each other company, rarely talking to the Canadians or the female guides. However, when a decision was to be taken by the guides, the ladies stood aside and allowed the men to make phone calls and report decisions to the rest of the group.
Les and Sue had determined before the trip that they were co-equal chaperones, but it soon became obvious to the group that all information from the organizers in Japan would flow through Les, even though he stood beside Sue and consulted her to make the point she was a partner, and had a better command of Japanese than Les. The Canadian students noticed this, and discussed it with the female guides, who shrugged and admitted ‘it is different in Japan.’ The students who had home stays with families which had a traditional Japanese bath configuration of very hot water followed by cold, reported that the hierarchy in the house set the order in which the hot bath was used - father, sons, mother, daughters. In some cases, our student was first ‘as a guest,’ in other situations the girls found they came after dad and the boys.
One of our students, a tall blonde, found herself the centre of unwelcome attention, particularly when on public transit - who would have expected staring and backside pinching in Japan?
When a tea ceremony was performed for our group, Les tried to persuade the guides that Sue should be the one to be involved in the ceremony. The ladies smiled, asked the young male guides, but were unceremoniously told that that would not be allowed, and that Les [as sensei of senseis - teacher of teachers] would have to be involved, not a female and ordinary teacher! Our students noticed yet another example of the hierarchical system at work.
Les had one experience near the end of the Japan tour during which he gave thanks silently for the pre-trip advice of one of his Japanese-Canadian friends. After the session for students in Nanaimo on manners and protocol, the friend had warned Les that if there was a banquet for the adults, he could be seated next to the ‘big cheese’ as he called him, and that there would be an attempt to drink Les ‘under the table’ to confirm the pecking order - Japanese then ‘gaijin’ or foreigner . His advice, ‘do not let him pour the sake - instead reach for the small ceramic flask and pour his first, then yours [without filling your glass] then hold up your glass and offer a toast, or gesture to clink glasses; sip don’t drink - repeat the process as often as required.”
On the penultimate night, 10 Japanese adults representing those who contributed to the tour plus Sue and Les attended a special banquet. The leader steered Les to the cushion next to him at the head of the rectangular table, and an exotic array of small dishes arrived, and kept coming. Les noticed early in the meal, that the dishes being served for the leader and Les were not the same as those served ‘lower’ down the table. The leader boasted that he knew Les was an expert in culinary matters and that he had ordered special dishes for them. Les followed the sake drinking advice to the letter, and though wobbly [especially after all that time kneeling on low cushions] after many flasks of excellent sake, he was able to speak without slurring and make appropriate farewells before leaving for the dorms.
The next day, one of the assistants to the leader asked Les how he had managed to stay sober at the banquet. Les replied vaguely [something to do with experience as a drinker in Australia] but did not reveal the secret when the assistant commented that it had never happened to his boss before.
Despite the lost battles with sexism, Les thoroughly enjoyed the introduction to the culture and life in Japan. Healthy food [including miso soup at breakfast], refreshing tea, universal punctuality, meditation, generosity, honesty, willingness to learn shown by the young female guides, the efforts of the Canadian students to adapt - all combined to produce a long lasting impression. Maybe it was some magical mysticism that hovered over the time in Japan, maybe the travel gods were having fun, but Les was struck by the number of coincidences that occurred.
Naomi, one of the student guides for our group, often came to Les to ask the meaning of a phrase she had heard the Canadian students using. At breakfast at the Ryokan, she asked what a “kiss of death” was. As they walked down the crowded side street, Les explained with examples. A minute later as the Japanese taxi drivers drove up to collect our group in a very crowded alley to take us to the station, Ian, one of the Canadian lads who took note of everything said, “these drivers have incredible reflexes to be able to drive in these narrow alleys without crashing.” Less than 30 seconds later one of our taxis hit an oncoming car - just a fender dented, nothing serious. However, a smiling Naomi said to Les, “Kiss of death eh?”
Les had taken along a cassette tape recorder to Japan so that he could play music to help him sleep if necessary. The itinerary was so jammed, and the frequent counting to 17 to keep track of students in very crowded situations was so tiring that the tape recorder was not needed until the last night after a formal farewell ceremony with Naomi translating Les’ formal remarks to everyone present. With bags packed, Les turned in, turned on the tape recorder, then remembered the gift from the organizers and guides sitting unwrapped on the desk. After the very beautiful Japanese paper was carefully removed, the gift proved to be a black lacquer tray with four stylized representations in the centre. They were of spring, summer, winter and spring. Back in bed, recorder playing, readers may guess, the music heard as a lullaby that night was Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.
A final tale of Nanaimo and Japan rose from the odd looks and reactions in Japan that students from Nanaimo and Les saw when they answered the question “where do you live?” and the answer was, “Nanaimo.” [For readers not familiar with the pronunciation of the name of our city, the second ‘a’ is silent.] The students from Parksville and Sue did not have the same reactions to their answer to this question. Particularly puzzling was the hand over the mouth and tittering of young girls and the guides when first hearing the word, Nanaimo. After the first week, Mary asked her host sister but received no satisfactory answer. After she reported this to Les, he found a quiet moment to ask Naomi, who explained that in Japanese nan was ‘seven’ and imo was ‘potatoes,’ so the giggling and strange looks were due to our hometown being “seven potatoes.” Mystery solved.
Weeks later, when Les and two students were giving a report of their Pacific Rim Initiatives adventure at a Rotary Club luncheon, Les told this anecdote. Some years later, he was therefore not surprised to find that a new friendship association was to be formed in Nanaimo. It was a Japanese-Canadian enterprise, and would be called “The Seven Potatoes Society.”
