The sweet fragrance of wax wafted through the air, mingling with the smoke as it drifted up into the faded yellow sky. Everywhere pinpricks of light cut through the black: distant city lights, the delicate specks of fairy lights and the dazzling dances of flames flickering from 8,000 torches. The streets were on fire. Continue reading “Edinburgh Torch Procession: Hogmanay”
Being a Canadian and a small-town-girl I had never been among so many people in such close proximity in my life. I’m not tall by Canadian standards and stand maybe an inch or two over the native Thai but the crowd was filled with people of all heights and my sight was met with a wall of flesh. My old friend and two newly met friends (one from Iran who’d been living in Bangkok for 3 years and one from the UK who was backpacking through) had the advantage of height and casually gazed over the gathered heads.
The shade was creeping over my body, bringing a cool blanket over my hot skin. I yanked my cap up to replace the hot air around my head with colder fresh air. It was a habit I’d continue throughout the day as the sunlight became hotter and the sweet delicious shade became scarcer. I wiggled on the curb trying to get some feeling back after sitting on the pavement for over an hour. Though a solitary figure from the Declercq clan, I was far from alone. Around me people gossiped and greeted each other from their lawn chairs and blankets. Ever few seconds a cheerful cry went up as someone recognized another whom they hadn’t seen in months or weeks or years. A small child at my side turned to her mother and asked in a voice I could fondly recall from my own youth, “mom, when’s the parade starting?” The youngster settled back with a huff when the answer was ten minutes, which as we all know is a decade in a child’s time frame.
After ten restless minutes the sight of three Royal Canadian Mounted Police leading the parade around the corner erased all tension from waiting. The parents gave a gasp of relief and settled back to watch their children sprint back and forth with candy. The parade had begun and so had the Canadian celebration. Continue reading “Canada Day: July 1st”
Red shiny strands of synthetic hair were plastered across my face causing me to spit and sputter as I irritably pulled one strand from my lips. My shoulder-length wig was in my face for the thousandth time, reminding me why I don’t have long hair anymore. On the upside, the reason I was eating my wig was because I was grinning and laughing. I had on a set of rainbow leggings and was flaunting a lovely rainbow scarf hand-knit by my grandma. Continue reading “Pride Parade: April 5th”