For the first time since our trip began, I had a day where I didn’t see a single person from the train. It felt weird.
I spent the day with my family, after sleeping a few extra hours (sleeping in never felt so good). I had hoped to make it a whole day without having to move something. Fate, as it seems, had other ideas in mind. My mother, however, has not completed the move from her home to her condominium.
I’ll give you three guesses what I was doing for part of the afternoon.
Today I realized just how much this trip has meant to me. I’ve written many times about the camaraderie, the challenges, and the excitement. But it’s one thing to write about those things while you’re amidst the action — it’s completely different when you’re reflecting on it.
That’s what today was for me: my first chance to ruminate on what we’ve done. It’s more than just crossing the country by train, though that would be enough for me. It’s having seen the happy faces of visitors to our exhibits. It’s having people learn a little about the CBC, and in turn about the culture of Canada. It’s hearing about how people feel included in something. It’s about seeing humanity.
Even on board the train, we have our own culture. It’s a microcosm of life. We live together in a stainless steel box barely 11 feet wide, 20 feet tall (in places), and just over 700 feet long. Submarines have more room than we do. Yet we are happy to be there. We are happy to bring the CBC to places that wouldn’t normally see the museum. We are happy to tell others that they are as much a part of the CBC as anyone else.
Tomorrow, our trek resumes. I just can’t wait to get on the road again.