My Canada Dream

“Are you ready to go?”, I get asked. “Almost”, I reply. It’s 8:50 in the morning and we are expected to be ready in 5 minutes. It is going to be a warm day. The sun has just risen high enough, so the first beams are touching the still quiet village. Even though it is still early, having spent a majority of our time here for the last months, we have gained some experience. I decide to leave the extra jacket in my locker, put on my red coat, and start making my way up to where we are expected to meet every morning.

Walking up to the old wooden lodge that is the home of the ski school I felt the power of the morning sun. It had increased a lot since the cold days at the beginning of the year and we all had missed the warm energy it delivered. It was already Easter Sunday and we were well into our spring season, with the days getting longer and even the chairlifts running for an extra 30 minutes to give everyone the chance to make the most out of their day.

The mornings always followed the same procedure. First we were expected to line up and make sure everyone made it to the hill in time. Second, we were told what age group we would be teaching that day and third we got a briefing about the upcoming day. On this Easter Sunday I was told to meet again at 09:45 at the Tiny Tigers Daycare, where our youngest guests got to do their first steps on the snow. Having to be there earlier than the normal meeting time for the Kids Campus at 10:30 meant I wouldn’t be able to take part in the daily training sessions provided by a more senior member of staff each morning.

After a couple of runs on the freshly groomed and not yet busy slopes, I went to the Daycare in order to meet Katlyn, my 4-year-old partner for the day. I remember her mom saying to me that she is “a fun little skier” and that we would have a good time together. “Just one thing” she said before leaving for her own lesson, “Katlyn would really like to meet the Easter Bunny.”

So Katlyn and I set out to what eventually turned into a big hunt for the Easter Bunny across the whole ski resort, reminding me of the time my brother and I set out to find this little guy in Obereggen, some 15 years ago. Katlyn making sure to leave me very impressed with how good a 4-year-old could ski, while also making complex strategies to always think ahead of what could be the next move an Easter Bunny would make, going skiing on his day and not wanting to be found.

As the day moved on, and us having searched the whole mountain, we didn’t actually find the real Easter Bunny. We were only able to find the “fake-lookalike-helpers” he (or in this case the ski resort) had set out that day in order to get some undisturbed skiing, as Katlyn concluded. Still being pretty proud of our day, we returned to the Daycare, leaving me with a great feeling of just having created a wonderful day for a little skier, just as I always had the privilege of experiencing in Italy.

I have loose memories of the time that I learned skiing. It was in the early 2000s, my parents had taken me and my brother to Obereggen in the north of Italy. A ski resort perfectly suited for young families and that soon became a home away from home. We went skiing every year for at least one week, mostly around Easter. It was a week my brother and I were longing for, long before it was even closely time to consider thinking about going there again. But as you let the world spin, you inevitably end up at the same point again. So for the majority of my early years at some point it was time to strap the skis on top of our car and sit in the back seat, patiently waiting as we drove 8 hours or more towards Italy.

Having left early in the morning, we usually made it to our hotel around noon, with the goal of being on the hill at 2 and enjoying a well deserved plate of Spaghetti Ragu. This was usually the way we started our trip and it became a ritual that stays unchanged until this day. Skiing around Easter also meant that on Sunday my brother and I woke up to a room full of hidden sweets that were waiting to be found. Just to go skiing shortly after, in order to find the Easter Bunny that, of course just by chance, had decided to go skiing in the same ski resort on his day!

All the good memories that I have from this place and all the love I experienced during our stays make for a very warm feeling inside of me once I feel the temperature dropping, seeing the green grass being covered in a white blanket of snow, hearing the sounds of a chairlift being mechanically disconnected from its supporting steel wire, and even the smell of freshly applied wax onto a pair of skis makes me remember these early days where I made my first steps on winter mountains.

Why am I telling that story? I think it is important to know in order to understand what it meant to me to leave my home in Europe and carry my skis across the Atlantic.

Looking back now, I realize that a change in my life was due for quite some time. It’s now over 3 years ago that I graduated university, and not taking the step out of my comfort zone that I actually wanted. But this is me speaking now, out of a position where I can comfortably look back on the changes I eventually was ready to make. But perhaps I wasn’t ready that summer 3 years ago and I’m also thankful for the time I got to learn so much about myself, ultimately preparing myself for what was coming ahead.

I decided to quit my well paid and secure job at the beginning of last year. The opportunity was long there before I saw it. My trip across the Atlantic Ocean, on a ship that I had been dreaming of for more than 20 years, made me realize that the stars of the universe were about to line up and I would regret not following through. It wasn’t easy to step out of what had become a very comfortable life and I won’t say that there weren’t times where I was questioning myself on what I had planned. But ultimately I had this vision of me and my list of dreams that I could now see very clearly.

Having crossed off a majority of these items, I now have realized that this wasn’t the point of my trip. I’m sure it was the motivation in the beginning and helped me to get going. But the real reason I started on this trip was because I wanted to challenge life and see what it had in store for me. Feeling like I was going to fail in what I was doing before, having a job that didn’t make me happy, coming out of a relationship where I was the reason it didn’t last, I took everything pretty personally and blamed myself for not being good enough. Having stepped away from this and by focusing on what I knew I was good at and would definitely enjoy, I regained trust in myself and my abilities. But also I regained a certain trust in life, that if you create opportunities and ask the person you are to give yourself the courage in order to dare making your dreams a reality, life, as hard as it can be, can also provide you with everything and more that you desire.

I arrived in Banff, after a bus took me across the Canadian Rockies, very late the 15th night of November. Being dropped off in the dark town that had already gone to sleep, I started to make my way to the hostel that I had booked 7 nights in. 7 nights I thought should be plenty of time to figure out how my new life on this side of the world would actually look like, right? Walking the streets for the first time, covered in a layer of snow that had been turned into solid ice, I was wondering if this place of uncertainty, in what appeared to me as the middle of nowhere, would soon become familiar. Passing window by window and looking at the houses one corner after another I felt ready to pin my own memories to it.

I remember my first week in Banff as the week I met the right people. Sitting in the hostel’s common room and chatting to everyone that was walking in, I immediately had the feeling of a common bond between us. We all arrived in this town, each having left home for different reasons, but all having the same ideas of how our winter should look. Today I can say that most of the people I met during my first hours in this town became my closest friends and were the people that helped me out so much, in order to achieve my dreams here. If it wasn’t for them pointing me in the right direction, I wouldn’t have started my certification to become a ski instructor, and have put in a good word for me in order to get hired by Sunshine Village Snow School, nor having the courage to talk to who would later become my boss at the ski shop.

There are countless memories that I could mention at this point in order to try to describe what it felt like living alongside these amazing people and waking up every morning knowing that there was so much to look forward to during the day. But I believe it is my feeling of home that I felt during my six months in Banff that describes my experience the best. Walking the streets I was often thinking of that night I arrived, not knowing how my experience was going to be, now feeling so much loved and appreciated in this place that for the longest time, I didn’t even think of the day that I would have to pack my bags and move out of this beautiful dream in white that I was living.