Life is a Trip (17 page)

Like the handful of other visitors to the church, I grew silent and contemplative as soon as I entered. On the walls were paintings of Acadian farmers in their fields, the British requiring an oath of all
e
giance from the Acadians who refused to give it, the reading of the Deportation Order in the church on September 5, 1775.

A stained glass window, in somber blues and grays, depicts the fateful emba
r
kation. A rowboat overflowing with people suggests the chaos and overcrowding, and the portrayal of deportees saying goo
d
bye to their families on shore evokes the misery of separation and loss. A red ribbon runs through the window; it represents the British color and also the tie of family. On September 5 every year, the sun shines through the window and the red line is reflected in a commemorative plaque on the opposite wall that describes the Deportation Order on that day.

But there is another element in the window that is the very heart of the Grand-Pré experience: the survival of the Acadian people is cel
e
brated by a sunrise and the whole window is encircled in gold.

Today, there are more than three million descendants of the expulsed Acadian farmers. Some of them returned to their ancestral land in Nova Scotia, but others are spread across the Atlantic provinces of Canada, New England, France, the Falkland Islands, Belize, Haiti and, of course, Louisiana. Even though the British tried to get them to a
s
similate into the Anglo world, wherever they landed, they managed to retain their very vibrant and proud culture. There has actually been an Acadian renaissance. No longer satisfied to let Longfellow—who was not Acad
i
an—be their spokesman, the Acadians are committed to tel
l
ing their own story. They are reclaiming their past and shaping their present and future. Think of the Cajuns—their music, dancing, their food. They are making their mark in the world.

A young woman named Amy, an employee of Parks Canada who guards and disseminates information in the church at Grand-Pré, told me, “I was raised in this area, but I started to get ‘new glasses’ and understood so much more when I began working here.”

What she meant was that the English version or the whitewashed story told by non-Acadians became eclipsed by the story of the Depo
r
tation from the Acadian point of view.

The day I was at Grand-Pré, I connected with Sally Ross, who wrote a book called
The Acadians of Nova Scotia
. She told me that one of the reasons so much is known about Grand-Pré is that two of the occupying British officers kept diaries where they recorded the events of the dispersion. The diaries validate the Acad
i
ans’ accounts of the atrocities.

Several years ago, the Queen of England issued a recognition of the wrong committed to the Acadians at the time of the Deportation. Not an apology, but a recognition of the Acadian version of the events.

Sally Ross told me that Grand-Pré has become a pilgrimage place for visitors and for Acadians whose ancestors lived and were buried there. That is certainly understandable, but I was surprised to also hear that Grand-Pré is considered a r
o
mantic destination. People—not necessarily Acadians—go there to propose ma
r
riage, get engaged, renew wedding vows. I saw a young couple bring their ne
w
born baby to Grand-Pré. And I learned that older visitors to Nova Scotia insist on coming to the site for inspiration.

As I walked around the area, I couldn’t get this aspect of Grand-Pré off my mind. I stood in a green field and looked at a bronze statue that depicted a wande
r
ing Acadian family: a mother, father, son, and daughter; the father held a pilgrim’s staff. Why didn’t the artist depict a miserable, downtrodden family? Why did they look noble, proud, strong? Why did the artist, like visitors to Grand-Pré, consider the site so uplifting? I kept thinking about this and it wasn’t until after I got home that I began to assimilate what I had seen and heard.

The romantic aspect of Grand-Pré is probably easiest to understand. Longfe
l
low’s poem tells a wrenching, tragic love story of separation set against the bac
k
drop of the expulsion and dispersion. The heroine, Evangeline, remained loyal to her beloved, grieving and lon
g
ing for him, wandering the earth, looking for him. Finally, she found him, among those dying from pestilence. He was an old man. She cried out his name and he heard her and she knelt at his bedside as he died. She thanked God that she had finally found him. Where better to affirm love and und
y
ing loyalty and devotion than at Grand-Pré?

But why do elderly people and people with babies go there for inspiration? I think there are several parts to the answer. First, and pe
r
haps foremost, the Acadian people have survived. They have lived through trauma and suffering, but, in the end, they triumphed. So Grand-Pré represents endurance and perseverance and the ability to overcome great pain and hardship.

Second, the history of the Acadians can never be entirely healed (How can you heal the horror of forced dispersion?), but the fact that it has been told by the pe
o
ple whose story it is and acknowledged by the descendants of the offenders is ce
r
tainly healing. And the fact that the story is known by people around the world is a great balm.

Third, and very significant, is the fact that the Acadians refused to be kept down. Their spirit of joy, creativity, and vitality permeate the site. They faced de
v
astation and came up battered but triumphant. Grand-Pré whispers to visitors that if the Acadians could do it, so can they.

People who go to Grand-Pré often say that the place is an affirm
a
tion of life. It refuses to give death the final say. The Acadians repr
e
sent the strength of human will and the ability to bear and overcome tragedy. There is always hope—not some blind, romantic hope, but a concrete reality, as evidenced by the survival of a de
c
imated people.

Couples can survive the difficulties of marriage. Babies can be fortified to e
n
dure the slings and arrows of life. Older people can be brave in the face of loss, disappointment, aging.

Above all, Grand-Pré communicates an authentic history, rather than one whitewashed or compromised to make it easier for visitors. It tells a terrible story, but the spirit of the courageous and enduring people who lived there has been a
l
lowed to remain. The site is restorative. Visitors learn how the Acadians worked in harmony with the land and transformed salt fields into fertile farmland. Anything can be tran
s
formed. Fields. Tragedy. Life itself. Anything seems possible.

For me, the Acadians’ story is a human story. Any of us can be stricken, but we can rise again and flourish. And we can celebrate that: our own survival and the survival of people and groups of people around us. We can live through physical and emotional disasters, trauma, pogroms, diasporas. Not only can we survive, but we can thrive.

Grand-Pré reminded me of the importance of history. It’s axioma
t
ic that if we don’t know and learn from history, we are doomed to r
e
peat it. In a sense, we have different technologies from our human a
n
cestors, but the emotions, moods, needs, wants, and errors of today are the same as they always were in the past. When I am walking and tal
k
ing with a friend, I sometimes imagine for a moment that we are in ancient Rome, wearing togas, walking in the shadows of a temple, having the same conversation. I am sure that our human essence has not changed over time. People have always complained about their children, their leaders, their parents, their spouses, their work, repai
r
ing their homes. They triumphed and failed. History is about people as much as it is about events. I think that the more deeply we pen
e
trate history, the more we understand both.

Some folks learn history from books, others from TV or the Inte
r
net. Sometimes it comes through the oral tradition and is passed down in stories and legends. To me, the most powerful and direct way to get involved with history is through travel: wherever I go, I learn about the people who live there and where they came from. I learn all I can. I immerse myself in a culture and try to absorb and remember ever
y
thing people say about their origins, ancestors, heroes and heroines, migration pa
t
terns, mistakes, triumphs, defeats, trading, leadership, allies, enemies, warmongering, peacemaking, challenges, and adaptations to the ebb and flow of existence. I listen because I am inspired by their history and mystery. I listen as though my survival depends upon it because I b
e
lieve it does.

Every time I travel, every time I encounter people whose lives and cultures are different from mine, I am amazed at how their existence on this blue marble we call Earth adds depth, breadth, perspective, meaning, and joy to my own life.

About the Author

J
udith Fein
is an award-winning international travel journalist who lives to leave. She resided for more than ten years in North Africa and Europe, where she ran an experimental theatre comp
a
ny and was an actor and director. She is an alumna of the Sundance Institute and worked as a film and television writer in Ho
l
lywood for twelve years. She has had ten plays produced in the U.S. and Europe, and one of her short plays has been performed around the world. She was the recipient of a grant from Opera America to create the libretto for the enthusia
s
tically-reviewed opera “Hotel Eden” with composer Henry Mollicone.

Judith has a passion for adventures that are exotic, authentic, quirky, historic and immersed in local culture. She has written travel articles for more than ninety prominent magazines, newspapers and Internet sites. She was a regular reporter for “The Savvy Traveler” on public radio for six years, is Travel Editor of
Spirit
u
ality and Health
magazine, senior travel writer for the
San Diego Jewish Journal
and Contributing Writer for
Organic Spa
magazine. She is the editor and co-founder, with Ellen Barone, of the popular website

http://
www.YourLifeisaTrip.com
. She is an acclaimed speaker for many ve
n
ues and is known for her informational, humorous and inspirational talks on a wide variety of subjects. She is Vice President of the Travel Journalist Guild and a member of the Society of American Travel Writers. With her photojournalist hu
s
band Paul Ross, she produces travel videos, slideshows and does travel perfo
r
mances. J
u
dith and Paul teach travel writing and photography around the globe and sometimes invite friends and appealing strangers to come on trips with them. 

Judith’s website is:
http://www.GlobalAdventure.us

Acknowledgements and Thanks

T
o Paul Ross, my husband,
partner, soul mate, colleague, friend, editor, clown, teacher, support team, chef, masseur, photographer, videographer, voice-over coach, consoler, shrink, inspiration and man who schlepps the luggage. 

To
Spirituality and Health
magazine, where I am the travel editor. Years ago, I was moaning about having such rich, soulful experiences with other cultures and how difficult it was to place stories about them. “You can write for us,” said editor-in-chief Steve Kiesling. And he meant it.

To everyone I mentioned in the book for gracing me with their time, energy, insights, generosity, knowledge and open hearts. In the past year, Maori elder John Wilson, the High Priest of the ancient Isr
a
elite Samaritans and Paca from Sahagun passed away. May their good deeds on earth earn them a peaceful rest. 

When one travels as much as I have, it’s easy to feel disconnected and out-of-the-loop when one comes home. Over the years, having meaningful and long-lasting relationships has been extremely important to me. I want to thank my friends for understanding when I am too deluged to talk on the phone and switc
h
ing over to email. Thanks for the parties, dinners, outings and invites that make us feel cared about and connected.

To Nancy King, who put down her own books to climb inside the soul of my book and offer me brilliant, inspired, generous and spot-on editorial advice.

To Jennifer Hanan for her powerful insights and above-and-beyond-the-call-of-friendship media help.