Sept. 1, 2017: Day one on campus at McGill University. … Honestly, I feel like I am visiting another city. McGill is of and in Montreal (with the great landmark of Mount-Royal looming majestically behind it) but McGill is, for real, its own universe. This isn’t groundbreaking news, but it nonetheless surfaces as the most striking sensation while I sit at a picnic table up on the hill of McTavish, outside the Faculty of Education. I’m overlooking the recently relandscaped reservoir and noting:
1. How new this all seems to me, like a place I hardly know;
2. How easy it is to just completely zone out;
3. How the security guard across the way leaning against the railing seems to be zoning out too. It’s been a good ten minutes that he’s been standing, more-or-less motionless, staring at the field. (This last doesn’t present any kind of problem to me. More so I’m interested in having inadvertently witnessed someone in their own bubble – in the middle of their workday – in a moment of momentary “downtime”);
4. How so many of the people (not student-y looking but tourist-y and of various ages, younger, elderly) make really great use of the benches, sitting down to rest, before continuing on their way up the hill.
… I’m from Montreal but didn’t attend McGill, so my dealings are indirect; I’ve been a user of various resources and spaces (seeing concerts at Pollock Hall, visiting semi-precious stones in the Redpath Museum, eating lunch on the grass just inside the Roddick Gates) so it’s no wonder I feel like a visitor now. But a visitor, plus. For it is not completely unfamiliar, just… like I’m moving temporarily into the house of an old friend; I’ve known this person and been in their home several times, it’s just not the same as (now) living here.
…So this is what I’m most struck by, on my first day on campus: the intensely familiar revealing something new.