Saskatchewan Plates

I was lucky enough to get back to Waterloo for a recruiting trip this week. The actual work portion was excellent. The non-work portion was eye opening.

I got to see a ton of people still in the area: Gee and Laura, Trish (She’s technically in Toronto), Tammy, Heather, Jarrett (technically in Ancaster), Andy, Shahnaz, and Nathan. I even ran into Dan and Paula who were visiting at the same time, and caught a quick coffee with Jamie in Toronto. I missed Lindsay and Gent this time around.

Waterloo fits like a pair of warn in jeans. There was no teething, no awkward warming up period. It was like I’d never left. I clipped down the 85, cursing the same old construction, across to university and then two years into the past. I hit lots of the old spots: Ethel’s, the Duke, the Spur (now the Texas Chainsaw), the Heuther, PBT, Curry in a Hurry. I walked up and down King street and around the campus. It was an incredibly comforting feeling to be that familiar with the surroundings. I also realized how much I miss seasons and weather. It was windy and rainy the entire time I was there, but I loved the cold and crisp breaths as I walked between buildings on campus. I loved the warmth of Ethel’s as I hurried out of the rain for a beer. Making my way around southern ontario in weather that was anything but idyllic felt almost like a return to normality.

That said, the most important thing I realized was that, despite how much I feel like I belong in Waterloo, I don’t. I realized that my deep emotional connection to that place is only tangentially based on the broken sidewalks that connect the establishments I frequented over those 5 years.

Waterloo, now, is entirely a city of memories. Remembering all those cold nights in line for Phil’s, or sitting at the bar at Ethel’s for Tacos with Kenshi and Gee, or Morty’s with the Garner Four. All the walks back from late lectures, or to the computer labs with Ed, Zam, and Brad. Remembering the summer nights hanging around on the construction in front of Echo Base, playing Mario Kart (Alex losing at the last minute!) in the old Albert house, hanging out in the Doug Fir lounge, or even our initial escapades from residence. Every square inch of that town is a reminder of some past event and even the mundane ones are fond. It’s a suburban time capsule of five incredible years.

I miss that time deeply, but a proper return to Waterloo would not bring that back, or more specifically, it would not bring the people back. Without the people over those five years, Waterloo would as much meaning as any other small college town. So it’s all of the Waterloo faces I have to thank. I can’t figure out a way to say this with less corniness, but having the opportunity to meet so many amazing people and spend the last five years with them was a blessing.

What I realized at the conclusion of my trip is that cities and places are merely the sets, the backdrops for memories. It’s the actors on the stage, not the stage itself, that make memories cherished.