The food trucks are?
Who remembers Franz Ferdinand (the band, not the Archduke)?
In what (for me) is one of their best, the speaker urges his beloved, who lives in a different city, to "come on home"—home being a common referent, regardless of place.
Listening to this nearly 20 years later, I'm struck by its deceptive depth. And the parallel, unfortunately, is uncanny: I'm away for much longer periods than I'd like because difficult circumstances demand it, not least of which is my job.
In any case, this song got me thinking. What makes one feel at home in a new place? For me, apart from the presence of loved ones, there is one important element: diversity.
Lietuva
Due to an accident of Soviet geopolitics, I was born in Vilnius, Lithuania. This tiny Baltic state is home to:
the oldest surviving Indo-European language
one of the oldest universities in Eastern and Central Europe
huge deposits of amber
(you get it, it's old)
incredible success in basketball, which is bizarre until you realize how tall these people are
I say that my birth there was an "accident" because, despite my knowledge of the fascinating facts above, there is not a Lithuanian bone in my body. My parents are from Belarus. Our family is the secular kind of Jewish.
Unfortunately, any kind of Jewish was a problem in the Soviet Union. So when I say that a healthy dose of intergenerational trauma has made me wary of homogeneous societies, it's not for nothing.
More on that below...
Brrr.... Canada!
For any Iranians reading, this photo has always been captioned: شب بود بیابان بود زمستان بود
We immigrated to Canada in 1991, and, since that time, I have lived all over the Greater Toronto Area (or, GTA; an area that contains 25 urban, suburban, and rural municipalities and encompasses 7,125 sq km / 2,751 sq mi).
We arrived in the depths of winter, and it was as if our new country were testing our resolve. Are you sure about this? It's pretty rough here.
Manitobans will scoff, but it was rough for a newly arrived family (even one accustomed to cold weather). We're not talking -50C rough, but rough nonetheless...
Aside: My own partner, who experienced a "warmer than usual" Manitoba winter last year (Torontonians, this is still three times colder than ours), somehow took it in stride. My own (very brief) experience of that same winter is a forthcoming novel. Has anyone read Atwood's incredible short story, "Death by Landscape"? Read it. It's not related to winter at all and (warning) is incredibly tragic, but the title is appropriate here. My future work will be called: Death by Landscape: How I Survived Manitoba's Attempt on my Life.
But I digress...
With the help of our community and every available government support, we learned the language, we found employment.
We settled. And then we thrived.
The mosaic
Image credit: Wix | Stones on Mosaic Bowl
After 30+ years of living in one of the most diverse cities in the world, multiculturalism has become one of my strongest indicators of livability.
And there's a good reason for that.
In 2021, 57 percent of Toronto residents belonged to a visible minority group. (I focus on visible minorities because they are more likely to be the targets of prejudice.)
This means music of all languages blaring from passing cars. This means a wide variety of food options. This means opportunities to learn languages from native speakers (your resident blogger is fluent in Persian).
More than anything, this means diversity of perspective, knowledge, and experience.
So, how does Morden compare?
According to 2022 statistics, 8.76 per cent of the population in Morden belongs to a visible minority (this is surpassed a bit by neighbouring Winkler at 9.28 per cent). Nearby Brandon sits at a whopping 20.21 per cent.
Honestly, this was more than I expected for the area. I was very pleased to learn that "Manitoba offers regional immigration initiatives to increase settlement to smaller communities" and that Morden is part of this immigration program.
Coming from a region where my own community was singled-out as an "unwanted minority," I much prefer the safety of blending into the mosaic.
But it's not just that. Diversity means tolerance... means children raised to encounter and appreciate difference.
Diversity also means that there is a Thai food truck in Morden, among other ethnic food options.
It should already be clear to everyone that I am food-motivated the way your pet is. Want me to go somewhere? Do something? Stand in line? Feed me something tasty or promise to. I accept promises.
Let's go back to Franz.
What makes Morden feel like home? For me, it's those who have made Morden their home.
The photo featured in this post (cosmos bipinnatus, or garden cosmos) is from our garden... our home.
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