As a recent graduate, I've learned a few things along the way. I know what you're thinking: "What could you possibly know that I don't?" Fair enough.
Being as eager as I am, I wanted to get going on my career, applying to community papers all over the country and a few down south. In my haste, I accepted a job in Lloydminster Sask., oil capital of the country, arguably one of the most productive in North America. Now, don't get me wrong - the people were about as unique and eclectic as they make 'em. By the time I made it home after my first day at work, the gas attendant knew my name and where I was from. And my neighbours assumed I would like to have some fresh muffins, which I did.
There is an overwhelming sense of family in many prairie towns, Lloydminster being no exception. For the first little while, I stayed with my publisher and his family, living in the guest room in the basement of their home, something you don't really hear too often.
Surprisingly though, they were so comfortable having me there, that it was completely out of the question to miss dinner time or family birthday parties on the weekends.
The reason I was living with my publisher was because of the lack of vacant rentals available in town. There is a strange phenomenon happening in the major prairie towns - there are too many jobs to fill and nowhere for the workers to live. Lloydminster actually had a negative vacancy rate. It even extends into poor living conditions. The mall parking lots were full of campers and mobile homes at night because there was nowhere else to stay. Hotels were booked a year in advance, and don't even bother trying to find an apartment.
However, if you're working for one of the owners of two apartment buildings and he can bump you to the top of the vacancy list, it helps.
I felt bad, I really did.
The problem wasn't the people or the job. I loved the job. It truly is the best job on the planet. Drive around talking to people telling their stories and photographing them. It really doesn't get any better.
The problem was putting an Island baby, born and raised, into the prairies. I severely underestimated the culture shock.It can't be that bad. Minus 40 Celsius is just an old wives' tale. There is no way it can get that cold - people wouldn't live there. I actually remember telling my mother that, the night before I left it can't get that cold. Unbelievable!
It does get that cold, and there are two types of people in Canada - Coast people and prairie people. You cannot be both.I am not a prairie person.
So I lasted six months, two of which were in the winter. I lasted two months of a Saskatchewan winter. I realize I don't get too much sympathy for that.
Dec. 1 came, and I packed my truck and drove back west. I took my time driving the snowy highways; driving across the Rocky Mountains in the middle of winter was not so bright.
After a few close calls over Rogers Pass and along the Coquihalla Highway, I made it back home - which brought me to the Sunshine Coast. I am the recent addition to Coast Reporter, and very excited to be here. While I will admit I haven't visited before, it does remind me of many small towns on Vancouver Island.
I will be covering the news stories out of the Town of Gibsons and Sunshine Coast Regional District.
So what have I learned? Quality of life is always more important than any job, bull riders are the craziest people on the planet, it is as flat as they say it is, and there is no sight more beautiful than the first time you see the ocean again after six months.
