War & Peace

Ottawa strikes me as a pretty laid back capital. People are friendly; most are fluently bilingual and will switch to English seamlessly. There's really not a sense of urgency here, and that's "comforting" for someone from the Kootenays, I suppose. The annual winter festival, put on in early February to help distract everyone from the bleakness that February can be, brings out ice sculptors from all over the world, including Spain and Poland. I got a brief chance to take in Winterlude, which is happening all over Ottawa-Gatineau. People munch on beavertails as they take in the music pumped into the parks via loudspeakers, warm puffs of air escaping from their cold noses. It's chilly, yet warm at the same time. The National Capital Commission sponsors open air concerts and light shows each weekend for the next three weeks, much to the delight of visiting Americans as well as Ottawans alike.

Today was a study in paradox in more ways than one. Our Teachers Parliamentary Institute group, 77 of us from across Canada in all, were given a grand tour of the Parliament's central block. That's the building you see in all the 'touristy' photos, the one with the clock and Canada flag swaying from the top of the copper-blue roof. Did you know that the central block burnt down in 1916 under "mysterious" circumstances? The only portion that was saved was the library; the rest, particularly the interior, was rebuilt in a gothic style, reminiscent of the cathedrals of Europe. It was finally finished in 1922, just after World War One. Our nation was in mourning, and you can tell from the sombre architecture that there was a quiet mood and hope for better days to come. We ascended the stairs to the Peace Tower (the central tower of the parliament buildings), and surveyed the city from all vantage points. I bent back against the window, and was able to take a photo of the clock itself, looming just a meter or so above me. (I'll post the photos once I get new batteries; I've burnt up a set already). We also made our way to the library; an astonishing collection of all things parliamentary. We craned our necks to look past the volumes of books, all the way up into the blue-tinged cupola. The library itself is round, symbolic of continuance and the circle of knowledge. The levels of floors that curve around the perimeter are made of thick glass; since there was no electricity at the time, much had to be made of the last vestiges of daylight whenever possible. Leaving parliament, I had a renewed sense of pride in our system of parliamentary democracy. This is our capital, our building.

We then toured the Canadian War Museum; a very different feel from the parliamentary one. The galleries transported us across Canada's timeline of military history, dating back to pre-contact, and up until now. It was exhausting to take in all of the images, artefacts, and information. One gallery is devoted to tanks, artillery, and other machinery of the war eras. Other galleries provided a place for families and public to reflect. The museum is vast in scope, and would typically require two to three visits. It left me with the impression that warfare is part of our human nature, an unavoidable fact, something I struggle to believe, and don't want to believe. After working our way through for 2 hours, we ended up in the Regeneration Hall. It is an architectural masterpiece, fashioned after a World War One painting, inspired by the twisted metals and carnage of buildings in Europe. If you visit, you'll hear a low haunting whistling sound as you enter; it is a recording of the wind that sang its way through the iron framework during construction of the gallery. As you walk in, you'll get a brief glimpse of the Peace Tower through a slitted window directly across the hall; a momentary glance, that is all. After descending the stairs, you'll notice several white statuary, reminiscent of religious iconography, and each conceptualizng something different: hope, peace, bending the sword, justice...There are the plaster molds from the Vimy Ridge memorial that stand as permanent reminders of the connection between Europe and our nation. Paradoxically, the exit to the gallery leads back into the military machinery gallery, where I observed a teacher with an overtly enthusiastic group of young grade-school boys discussing the merits of a particular World War One tank they were inspecting...