Friday 20 June 2014

The Call

I was sitting at home, watching television, when I got a text message from my friend Val, who is a relief nurse that travels all over Canada and the world.  "Hey!" she exclaimed.  "Nunavut is desperate for social workers this summer!  They really need help, and you should go up there!  I'm out to dinner with a friend who just moved back from Nunavut, and will send you her contact info if you'd like."  Oh really, I think.  I texted her back, and got the contact information... and completely forgot all about it.

It was a horrific winter in Ontario.  It was long, cold, and snowy.  I'm starting graduate school in the fall, I want to enjoy summer and I don't know how we'll be able to work logistics with my summer and spring travels. 

That's the thing.  My travels.  I've always been the adventurous sort.  I will jump on a plane faster than... well... anyone who jumps on anything really, without a second thought and minimal planning.  I traveled throughout Europe in my childhood and teenage years.   I was a foreign exchange student in Germany.  I even did one of my social work practicums in New Zealand.  It's kind of an obsession of mine.  So the possibility of getting paid to go up to Nunavut, and work, and see a part of Canada most people will never get to see sounded pretty enticing.  But I figured that it wouldn't be able to happen around my schedule, what with going to Ecuador in the middle of the summer, leaving me two months to go and do my thing before school starts the first week of September.  Plus, there's my full time job, working in the mental health and justice sector, providing housing support for people with complex mental health issues involved in the justice system.  My work has always been really flexible and supportive of my traveling, my learning goals, and my career goals... but would they approve me to go off for two months and work somewhere else?  So, I did what I normally do when I have a decision to make: I packed my bags, booked a flight, and ended up in Vancouver for a long weekend to give it a good think. 

And I found I couldn't stop thinking about Nunavut.  Upon my return to Toronto, I contacted a social worker named Jessica, who referred me to her former manager, and two weeks later, I was essentially hired, based on my resume alone, to travel to Nunavut to be a child welfare, jack of all trades, service navigating social worker. 

I don't believe I have done anything this crazy since I uprooted myself from Chicago and bought a one way ticket to Toronto twelve years ago.  But here we are.  In one month, I'll have gone from the equator to the north pole, packing for two extremes, for pleasure and business, and I am presently alternating from being more excited than I have ever been for anything to OH MY GOODNESS WHAT AM I DOING?! 

And so it begins.  One last week to tie up things with my current clients, buy 2 months worth of frozen groceries, prep for vacation, and prep for my new (temporary) life.  Here we go. 

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