Stranger Than Fiction, 31 (2011)

I did not go anywhere in 2011.  The Costa Rica trip sapped my savings a bit and I wanted to visit Mexico City in the following spring when the jacaranda was blooming.  I had also visited Mexico City, in the same boutique hotel as before, during the last three days of my trip when I left Costa Rica in 2010 and the extra costs really did set me back a bit financially though it was worth it.  I had a full roster of work and clients facing me and I wouldn't have to try too hard to save money.  From Costa Rica in October 2010 I emailed my letter of resignation to the organization I was working for in Richmond.  There were mounting frustrations but instead of mentioning those I lied politely to the director, since I didn't want to end on bad terms.

I came into a new position working in tertiary care with severely and chronically mentally ill clients who had been hospitalized for the long term, in some cases their entire adult lives.  I became very ill the weekend before my first day in mid- February, having been hit by a flu that included a near inability to walk and double vision.  I should have been hospitalized but I was determined to fight it out on my own.  On the fifth day, still not completely recovered, I went in for my orientation day.  I was no longer seeing double but till felt disoriented and didn't do very well with the new clients. 

This new position presented for me other challenges.  The clients were very dependent and any self-direction was likely to be self-destructive.  It still went fairly well and I had a great boss and supervisor.

In the meantime I had discovered a Spanish book store and the owner, long after the store closed, has remained a good friend.  The store was a mile from the tertiary care unit so I would often stop in to visit on the way there and back and sometimes after work as the bookstore was also a kind of informal drop-in centre for Latinos.  It was a great context to practice my Spanish and meet new people as well as learning more about the various Latin-American, especially Central American, cultures.  The owner gave me some excellent deals on books in Spanish and did a lot to help build my home library.  I was still working with my two Latino clients, one of whom knew the proprietor of the book store.  He actually asked me about her, if by chance I worked with her, when I mentioned that I did work with a lady from his country of origin.  I refused to budge, citing confidentiality.  On a few occasions after, to test me, he still tried to divulge information about her.  I remained mum.  Then, one of his patrons asked me if I was working with so and so and I replied something like "Senora, no entiendo ninguno de lo que me cuenta." or Madame, I don't have a clue what you are talking about.

For a while I attended a Spanish speaking church.  It seemed a bit awkward given that I was the only single person there and after a few months I decided to stay, for a while anyway, with St. Happy-Happy where I mistakenly believed I would be staying for the rest of my life.