tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35423365956065053652024-03-12T20:35:51.692-07:00Quidi Vidi Field SchoolJoelleChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15143699287828521413noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-48196066692476518802013-09-28T08:15:00.001-07:002013-09-28T11:20:02.866-07:00Putting it All Together: Quidi Vidi Field School Preparing for Presentation to Community Happy Saturday, folks!<br />
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This morning we're all at Quidi Vidi Plantation and are busy preparing for our final presentation to the community tomorrow. There's no shortage of tea and snacks today as we discuss how best to condense our three week experience into a several minute video. We've been wrangling amongst ourselves about what absolutely needs to be included- not an easy feat, considering all seven of us have had many experiences in the time we've been here. Luckily we've become great friends and as of yet, I'm happy to report there have been no major disagreements- besides, of course, what music we should be playing in our tiny workspace. <br />
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Over the course of our time here, you've been given a daily glimpse into what we're up to. I guess with this final post, we really just wanted to collectively say thank you to everyone who has helped make this field school come together- in particular, the Department of Folklore, the Heritage Foundation of Newfoundland, the City of St. John's, the Quidi Vidi Village Foundation, and of course, the wonderful residents of Quidi Vidi Village. Three weeks ago, I don't know that any of us could have imagined just how much we were going to have learned and we are excited to have the opportunity to share it with you. <br />
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Please join us tomorrow evening at 7pm at the Quidi Vidi Plantation where we will be presenting our research to the community. We look forward to seeing you there!<br />
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Sincerely,<br />
Quidi Vidi Field School 2013<br />
Kayla Carroll<br />
Christine Blythe<br />
Adrian Morrison<br />
Xuan Wang<br />
Klara Nichter<br />
Kari Sawden<br />
John LaDuke<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>l-r Adrian Morrison, John LaDuke, Xuan Wang, Kayla Carroll, Christine Blythe, Klara Nichter and Kari Sawden</b> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<br />Kayla Carrollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07936260167935337903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-79728786689170196742013-09-27T18:23:00.001-07:002013-09-27T18:31:11.471-07:00Forever Hometown <span style="font-family: Calibri;">From the day I set up from Beijing International Airport till
now, time has passed one month precisely. However I felt that I have left my
home over one year. Can’t imagine, field school nearly draws to the end. I felt
so worried about it when I still in China. I know I do poor English writing,
but I still have to express my feelings by it in blogger. I was nervous when I
was in my home- I just cannot speak English well, what about interview and
investigate local people- I ever thought that quidi vidi people had totally different
ethnical language compared with English and we need translators!… So far, I have
done well. That’s what I feel comfort to myself. That is because of my friendly
and helpful classmates; that is because of conscientious and considerable
teachers; that is because of lovely and self- giving quidi vidi people…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I learned so much in this precious period, not including the
field investigation experiences I have added. I drew first professional
building draft in my life; I interviewed a totally foreigner for me in one
hour; I talked with two Newfoundlanders over 4 hours… As well as joining a banquet
in a heritage building nearly 200 years, dancing and drinking in a wholly
Newfoundland style kitchen party, “screeching” in the Inn of Olde for becoming
a honorary Newfoundlander… Maybe after screechin, I definitely became a
Newfoundlander and had same sentiments with the people and understood them
profoundly. I learned many fishing common sense and knowledge of stage. I let waves
from Atlantic Ocean wet out my pants and shoes when I was bumped till left to
right in Frank’s boat. Right in that moment, I thought the waves would capsize
the boat! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> So many precious memories… let me begin with my first
English interviewer Peggy Magnone. She is so kind that she speaks slowly and tries
her best to understand me and response me. To this intelligent and generous old
lady, I don’t know what to say in this moment. Her tears nearly dropped down when
she talked about her hardship period when she was young. I can’t imagine that a
lady so optimistic still owns memories about hardships. I completed my
interview smoothly in the help of the considerate old lady. But she looked so
sad to let us go. I remembered her hardy face when she said goodbye to us- she
even did not dare to look straight to us. I felt her strong sentiments of
sorrow and pity that she knew that we did not belong to her from beginning to
the end. I felt sad these days when I remembered her words and face. She said
that you can come to see me interview or not interview… You can call me
whenever you want… People in quidi vidi are so sentimental that I can’t help laughing
and crying altogether with them. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peggy Magnone and I with little Comet- Photographer: John LaDuke</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span> <span style="font-family: Calibri;">I interviewed John and Anne the day before yesterday. I know
that Johnny has always waited for someone to interview him- he is so enthusiastic
to field school and he and Anne love us so much. Interview completed as I
imagined same as Peggy, but beyond my imagination was that we chatted nearly 4
hours after interview… From family fairs to political events, we chatted like
old friends. They were so frank that they ask my advice for their private
fairs. And I put myself in their position to the best of my ability to comfort
them. They are so kind people that when I think of them, tears nearly running
down. They trust me rather than I trust them. The trust is what kind of a good
feeling! Today, they gave me a postcard by the hand of Christine. I was shocked
again. Blessing and sentiments are flowing and going on. They taught me be
grateful and be kind to everyone everything.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kind John with a smile similar with the meerkat standing in the flowerpot</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John pretends to be annoyed to Anne's superstitious habit to angel </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John, Anne and I hold Queen together- Photographer: Christine Blythe</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I have to talk about the Mallard banquet yesterday. The
owner of Mallard Cottage Todd treated all of us in the old heritage building
nearly 200 years. When I stepped into the house, I smelt a familiar flavour of
burning wood. Yes, they burned woods in the original fireplace to make an old
atmosphere. The whole old cottage belonged to us in the 3 hours. It was a bounteous
meal including wine, salad, dish and desserts in exquisite procedures. I can’t
remember the name of main dish… which harbour cod fea? Forgive me. “fi” is a local
term means meal. I was full but dessert came. I was full further but the second
dessert came…… Desserts were composed by two kinds of bread poutine and cream
and blueberry sauce. Totally wonderful experience for me. The cookers and
servers as well as the owner treated us with the utmost cordiality. Thanks a
lot! Mallard Restaurant will open in October. Booming business!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> We will return back to classroom from field next week. But the faces of local people and the scenes will be engraved in our mind forever. I deeply felt the love from local people to their hometown- quidi vidi village. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And quidi vidi will be our hometown forever.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thank you all again and again and again…</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elegant Lisa and Adrian who poses a gentleman in Middle Ages</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A corner of Mallard Cottage Banquet</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old fireplace put warmth and feelings to us</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delicate tableware with carved pattern</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheers! Everyone!</td></tr>
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(Above photos all were shot by Wang Xuan except the ones illustrated)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09466717797583043682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-70104527330163642492013-09-27T04:12:00.000-07:002013-09-28T10:33:20.680-07:00The Many Faces of Quidi VidiWhen we arrived in Quidi Vidi, our first two weeks were, for the most part, full of bright and warm weather. Since then, it has been getting steadily cooler and wetter outside as the rain carries on and keeps most people inside for the day. At first glance, venturing outside even just into thick fog rather than the rain seemed uninviting as I looked at the gray, quiet waters of the harbor from the comfort of the dry, cozy room inside the plantation building where we worked, mugs of tea or coffee in hand.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of the harbor from inside the plantation building. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
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When I did venture out later that afternoon, however, it turned out that Quidi Vidi was as inviting as ever despite the lack of activity in the harbor and the ever-thickening fog that day. The fog only added to the striking nature of the view as I wandered out to Landrock to have a look at the rough waters that led most people to stay in and save their fishing for another day. Having come from a landlocked part of the United States, I was awed by the dramatic sight of the waves and struck by the calm of the waters by the time they flowed into the village harbor.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quidi Vidi stages shrouded in fog. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikofuQLd2ibEiPkDZZcsOhE8NTWu51VMPAi6GE7-d255d-YlXtBR1OOByWWtjCjoXtieKhn_zjas0UG3UCWp8jyAPmoCBm0haIPJm2EpUwYetfU_IuRN9mHaDh7LCDWvJcu9SRfxmiPGc/s1600/DSC_0718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikofuQLd2ibEiPkDZZcsOhE8NTWu51VMPAi6GE7-d255d-YlXtBR1OOByWWtjCjoXtieKhn_zjas0UG3UCWp8jyAPmoCBm0haIPJm2EpUwYetfU_IuRN9mHaDh7LCDWvJcu9SRfxmiPGc/s320/DSC_0718.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view as I headed out towards Landrock. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih4EhbgJdBdIXMD9iTjb_0_INyoQUyqolDLfwwJh6X5WIaLVHkKFepETfIJ_QUmeG9Olb8lCu3kceCsd14OrsDp28dcz5RtzzlPVeB1yYA9vaA_T3ivkR3CLPZvMcwFB2u-rXmBVDZ5h0/s1600/DSC_0793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih4EhbgJdBdIXMD9iTjb_0_INyoQUyqolDLfwwJh6X5WIaLVHkKFepETfIJ_QUmeG9Olb8lCu3kceCsd14OrsDp28dcz5RtzzlPVeB1yYA9vaA_T3ivkR3CLPZvMcwFB2u-rXmBVDZ5h0/s320/DSC_0793.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the rocky beach towards Landrock. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzt7mYFRWetLElHtwrTKJdfnuZuXpdhcUpKg18nHlp2SrBiiJ6qabn5VOWJxllfWd0WuYZk1Z6laEYIXCbS3JLUrSEHRPWwTZtgMy9JkXkjBS13IPfzzlo_-c0XpKDJ9DKBL0uoljUGeg/s1600/DSC_0812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzt7mYFRWetLElHtwrTKJdfnuZuXpdhcUpKg18nHlp2SrBiiJ6qabn5VOWJxllfWd0WuYZk1Z6laEYIXCbS3JLUrSEHRPWwTZtgMy9JkXkjBS13IPfzzlo_-c0XpKDJ9DKBL0uoljUGeg/s320/DSC_0812.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end of the trail. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUa4l4QbeBXDO8UjA7QN-UPJShckNVRRmQpYxs_Hxj7JGKvZW6nrcCaVUjOVmUfdkOBe_du_7-NSYO-rX517H1IVvqz_SaV5vls1_HLp00qZrCkNIhvZBUnod-uLoFTNNcUkGpoI59Zu0/s1600/DSC_0825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUa4l4QbeBXDO8UjA7QN-UPJShckNVRRmQpYxs_Hxj7JGKvZW6nrcCaVUjOVmUfdkOBe_du_7-NSYO-rX517H1IVvqz_SaV5vls1_HLp00qZrCkNIhvZBUnod-uLoFTNNcUkGpoI59Zu0/s320/DSC_0825.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of the rough sea from Landrock. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9T4cM7kLrq5oV05ZNLEOGajCePxZ82Yh30ySWmJe2AHFtMNOLkpvEOYbskzixOG16bmFc_EmfZkQW7UCfBoiTXkF-5671BPHfXm_d1DudDdsxSeVHKPyRYcWvn5usvvDK8a1XME6BxPM/s1600/DSC_0829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9T4cM7kLrq5oV05ZNLEOGajCePxZ82Yh30ySWmJe2AHFtMNOLkpvEOYbskzixOG16bmFc_EmfZkQW7UCfBoiTXkF-5671BPHfXm_d1DudDdsxSeVHKPyRYcWvn5usvvDK8a1XME6BxPM/s320/DSC_0829.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More views of the waves from Landrock. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7T76Us9ohk6Zb4DrUHps0GXV9upfZf5S_mwS4ucFfYwUIrxAhDv7bUoUyijOd6FsgWpqEwFdOVY_74TRlaht61mOLT51AzKW7N69k8WXk6E3e3b0tfBbkcB14C8pOj-bQPaWzK8B0T0/s1600/DSC_0841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7T76Us9ohk6Zb4DrUHps0GXV9upfZf5S_mwS4ucFfYwUIrxAhDv7bUoUyijOd6FsgWpqEwFdOVY_74TRlaht61mOLT51AzKW7N69k8WXk6E3e3b0tfBbkcB14C8pOj-bQPaWzK8B0T0/s320/DSC_0841.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading back to the calm waters of Quidi Vidi. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
As I considered how inviting Quidi Vidi was even in seemingly bad weather, my thoughts turned from the scenic surroundings to all of the people and their buildings that we have gotten to know over these few weeks. We have gone from strangers in a seemingly alien place to friends in a familiar one, largely thanks to the kindness and generosity of so many people who have welcomed us into their homes and stages and shared their lives in the village with us. Rain or shine, it seems that whenever you go out exploring here, there will always be something new and wonderful to be discovered.Klara Nichterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00318447363777693813noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-11910399879394430052013-09-26T16:14:00.000-07:002013-09-26T16:14:19.117-07:00When words fail Knowing that today would be my last blog post, I have been trying to come up with something profound to say, but words, as powerful as they can be, are sometimes not enough. There is no way to adequately express my thanks and gratitude to everyone involved in this project. I could not have asked for a better introduction to Newfoundland than what I found here. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtRAzj79jB5qZMosEpRkIAUX2ebfE2AthhNK2pqmYuEJQ4_Jy743OiVHg1BihW1hCNVl5w3ZvGCV-MgvxTrl60tPohBKA4OaWhKRFxb261wVwN_R3m1YnQg82xHKbLIfhbU2ItbU4-wY/s1600/DSC_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtRAzj79jB5qZMosEpRkIAUX2ebfE2AthhNK2pqmYuEJQ4_Jy743OiVHg1BihW1hCNVl5w3ZvGCV-MgvxTrl60tPohBKA4OaWhKRFxb261wVwN_R3m1YnQg82xHKbLIfhbU2ItbU4-wY/s320/DSC_0001.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The harbour on a foggy day. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPG8y0kCo7YH5qMTKiyQyEE7HvSPEp1G8N_fqxqaD9PoixqofLtsV6M1co21mCAJePAYRSgxsX8CMGVJzdIYwrcP9AVbi1_6egKRmmeRDcDtRppGm0PwghoeFocWgqrOLULoyVn5Vi_o/s1600/DSC_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPG8y0kCo7YH5qMTKiyQyEE7HvSPEp1G8N_fqxqaD9PoixqofLtsV6M1co21mCAJePAYRSgxsX8CMGVJzdIYwrcP9AVbi1_6egKRmmeRDcDtRppGm0PwghoeFocWgqrOLULoyVn5Vi_o/s320/DSC_0010.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quidi Vidi Brook. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5d-0Twu1ZIJpqud26QebKzvg-E871aU7VTgE3vs3-ig9Phd06JGOHwayLsA4A1juTsfRXuuMTpTJpOr3vq9YiKkIT1exkR9x1sxLiiDNrjIxxkmLXxgXZSP3rn2__NbtDVCN5wmAMp_8/s1600/DSC_0077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5d-0Twu1ZIJpqud26QebKzvg-E871aU7VTgE3vs3-ig9Phd06JGOHwayLsA4A1juTsfRXuuMTpTJpOr3vq9YiKkIT1exkR9x1sxLiiDNrjIxxkmLXxgXZSP3rn2__NbtDVCN5wmAMp_8/s320/DSC_0077.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quidi Vidi is always beautiful - rain, fog, or shine. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
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There are a lot of horror stories out there about the graduate studies and programs, especially concerning the competitive nature of academics. I am delighted to report that this has not been my experience; my classmates amazed me daily with their support, creativity, and knowledge. I continue to marvel how each of us could look at the same building and find within it vastly different stories, and I am grateful that this course provided opportunities to explore our unique perspectives.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99BTx8DzMKYdFiUYmOD7X2H6R0RvalItfDiiflRn-1q-CLtHMk_22jGwaF_DabLX3Ky059botBUPjhNvpHbYPJ3DejnSJMRNU3IGgNK2LYW6-Dyz6Qv49eR5GNrhf4SbUyA5ivSLAi2s/s1600/DSC_0112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99BTx8DzMKYdFiUYmOD7X2H6R0RvalItfDiiflRn-1q-CLtHMk_22jGwaF_DabLX3Ky059botBUPjhNvpHbYPJ3DejnSJMRNU3IGgNK2LYW6-Dyz6Qv49eR5GNrhf4SbUyA5ivSLAi2s/s320/DSC_0112.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Creativity and a little fearlessness are definitely assets. Xuan and Ed try to maneuver a floating platform into a measuring position with the support of Christine, Kayla, and Jerry. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCvQqp2d2FjmQVcIV3-79k7f9GdKkihrSyBBMkm0P3INf51VoRJUOsvCKVr_alX3aF35X2TvQw76L1UF846p1qyedNVmmhpxOPXz5LOIRK6s-9BBTLR8LWuA_BR0m-pHqjqsEsfFt0QyY/s1600/DSC_0127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCvQqp2d2FjmQVcIV3-79k7f9GdKkihrSyBBMkm0P3INf51VoRJUOsvCKVr_alX3aF35X2TvQw76L1UF846p1qyedNVmmhpxOPXz5LOIRK6s-9BBTLR8LWuA_BR0m-pHqjqsEsfFt0QyY/s320/DSC_0127.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teamwork in action. Ed, Xuan, and Christine work on measurements. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That we were able to arrive in this community three weeks ago and be in any way successful is due to everyone who was working on this project long before we entered the picture. I can only imagine the amount of work required to make such a course possible. And the quality of education that we received is remarkable, made even more so given the short time-frame within which we had to accomplish everything. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Only a few of our many classrooms:</i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigx7wdr-RJFJRBZRml7PHFq6HjyOlRfWurkF0uw3r_hbWx3U9ZRfvy-zN4YMG1u5tiCjpZEfOOAFBo_BFbrfUd77sVNdSc-W1ouzKrtw4qQWOfRrecqCf98B7C5brwu4zhUfs2Csvy_Jc/s1600/DSC_0061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigx7wdr-RJFJRBZRml7PHFq6HjyOlRfWurkF0uw3r_hbWx3U9ZRfvy-zN4YMG1u5tiCjpZEfOOAFBo_BFbrfUd77sVNdSc-W1ouzKrtw4qQWOfRrecqCf98B7C5brwu4zhUfs2Csvy_Jc/s320/DSC_0061.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A splitting table. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOT-3_KMWOp7kqnLz_o8Ziwcc9YWs5gQDjJuHqAb1hqwiVTA9jpD8rJtMVGl9XNVoX5deZmCN37UFZ-yWhh_w4Iac0yJvSYVTVAj1n4iI_Z7nNAU00ZI6rk5PnfAh0whppu2I6XzG3hiM/s1600/DSC_0050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOT-3_KMWOp7kqnLz_o8Ziwcc9YWs5gQDjJuHqAb1hqwiVTA9jpD8rJtMVGl9XNVoX5deZmCN37UFZ-yWhh_w4Iac0yJvSYVTVAj1n4iI_Z7nNAU00ZI6rk5PnfAh0whppu2I6XzG3hiM/s320/DSC_0050.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Plantation. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjyBoJ1jnPgdonYzX_Yp_xBR6bc3PUFJ6ARPQsqYs-Bxp19pA-a-SRnmWdSGjuWqvvicPfIQTomigQ5lDRx-S7YUl22PCJiMY2Uk-nULvOXENia9LXiS22S8VJR2-ueoBaiXbL-KR2-Yo/s1600/DSC_0081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjyBoJ1jnPgdonYzX_Yp_xBR6bc3PUFJ6ARPQsqYs-Bxp19pA-a-SRnmWdSGjuWqvvicPfIQTomigQ5lDRx-S7YUl22PCJiMY2Uk-nULvOXENia9LXiS22S8VJR2-ueoBaiXbL-KR2-Yo/s320/DSC_0081.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Underneath a stage with John and Adrian. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I remain in awe of the generosity and kindness of the people of Quidi Vidi who entertained us for three weeks with open doors, stories, tea, and much patience as we worked to master new equipment and techniques. Through this community I learned so very much and fell more deeply in love with the study of folklore. It is impossible not to when you are surrounded by such as these. </div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14930205677906748761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-85829532578912226712013-09-25T19:11:00.000-07:002013-09-25T19:11:49.342-07:00Memories of Quidi Vidi <div class="MsoNormal">
Today is the hump day of the last week of the Quidi Vidi
field school and this is my final blog entry. As such, I feel that it is only
appropriate for me to reflect upon my time in the village. In the last three
weeks I have been blessed with the opportunity to meet countless wonderful
people. The fact that so many residents of this village have openly told us
their stories and welcomed us (complete strangers!) into their homes, sheds,
stages and boats, is amazing and heart warming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzU_fHc2UDnpUUpQEV3CoxJEWsfI8m1ZWjLiQaFDxLKha0RmgxybRT-Nx0qhhTvq7YFg4rrZ4ldEeOqfgrb7UgPjhbIDi7hibzfMZGWSA4oeNCGIE00hZIrkcDlIaonKvBTe_3mdsEAU8/s1600/IMG_7792.CR2" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzU_fHc2UDnpUUpQEV3CoxJEWsfI8m1ZWjLiQaFDxLKha0RmgxybRT-Nx0qhhTvq7YFg4rrZ4ldEeOqfgrb7UgPjhbIDi7hibzfMZGWSA4oeNCGIE00hZIrkcDlIaonKvBTe_3mdsEAU8/s320/IMG_7792.CR2" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peg Smith and her dog comet </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I arrived in Quidi Vidi on the first day of classes I
felt a bit like a black sheep. I was the only non-folklorist, in a group of
folklore students, at a folklore field school. Nevertheless, I quickly felt
welcomed by instructors, fellow students, and those within the community. While
all of the people that I have met have been truly special, I would like to talk
about some of my most memorable experiences. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my first blog entry I wrote about meeting Randy, and how
I couldn’t wait to hear more about his stories. Since then, I have had many
conversations with Randy and his stories are better than I ever expected. His
tale of breaking the 9:13 was gripping, and an anecdote about his father on the
Irene B. Mellon was hilarious.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
During the first week of the field school China came in to
visit our class and share memories of his days fishing on the great Atlantic.
The early fishery is one of my special research interests and I have read a
fair bit about the subject. Hearing China talk about his personal experiences
with the fishing industry truly made the topic come alive for me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mid way through our second week I met Peg on the road beside
her home. From our first conversation I knew that she was a world traveler, and
I was very lucky to experience her world class hospitably when she welcomed us
into her home. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed Chappell explaining the ins and outs of architectural drawing.</td></tr>
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I signed up for this field school because I was confident
that I would learn skills that would help me in many ways throughout my
academic career. I never imagined, however, that I would learn quite as much as
I did. The expertise of John, Guha, Ed, Jerry, Lisa, and Dale has been
absolutely inspiring. <br />
<br /></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John and Clara, my architectural drawing buddies.<br /> </td></tr>
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Last but not least, I could not have experienced half of
what I did without my wonderful classmates. They have helped me along the whole
way.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To all those who I have met in the last three weeks, thank
you from the bottom of my heart. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Much love, </div>
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Adrian<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11239513939890040430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-45665545638043375312013-09-25T12:01:00.000-07:002013-09-25T12:02:58.312-07:00"I feel like I've known you my whole life": the joys of fieldwork<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</xml><![endif]-->Hey there lovely readers! <br />
<br />
I held off on posting yesterday because I had planned on going out fishing today and hoped I would be able to write about what a great time I had. Unfortunately, the weather is not cooperating with us in Quidi Vidi (does it ever?) and Christine and I are not able to go out. The next couple of days aren’t looking good either. Just another reminder that we’re at the mercy of the weather here in St. John’s, I suppose. <br />
<br />
Ever the optimist, I knew there would HAVE to be something interesting to write about today. And though it’s still mid-afternoon, I’m happy to say that today I’ve been reminded of how enjoyable fieldwork is when you’re able to make real connections with people. If you recall from my last post, Xuan and I have been drawing the floor plan of Mary and Claude Ring’s house- an experience, thankfully, I’ve grown to at the very least, tolerate. This morning, I dropped by to ask the Rings some questions about the house and was hoping they would have a couple of photos to lend me. When I arrived, Claude sent me upstairs with Mary, where we spent the next hour looking through old photo albums. Although I didn’t know anyone in the pictures, I got to experience Quidi Vidi in a completely new way: through pictures the Ring family took while their children were growing up. Mary let me ask her a million questions and pointed out details I probably wouldn’t have picked up on. And what I had planned on being a half an hour maximum conversation, turned into an hour, and then an hour and a half, and then just as I was putting my jacket on, Mary said, “would you like a sandwich or something?” <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIzQmdbS5fzi9BjDSzJJIhF6UDntXH1Ea7NP65wl1Pj6Vo7WH-W5V0SUYDb1v32qYARcY3sQvXLyp4-X9diahIM3lLJDHDx6hsM3qCl7j4_OSjE7wXiZYNswoA1ECjhkm86Q8_TWC1ZrXx/s1600/Quidi+Vidi+4+007.NEF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIzQmdbS5fzi9BjDSzJJIhF6UDntXH1Ea7NP65wl1Pj6Vo7WH-W5V0SUYDb1v32qYARcY3sQvXLyp4-X9diahIM3lLJDHDx6hsM3qCl7j4_OSjE7wXiZYNswoA1ECjhkm86Q8_TWC1ZrXx/s320/Quidi+Vidi+4+007.NEF" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Mary and Claude Ring in their kitchen</b></td></tr>
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The next thing I knew, Mary and I were laying out things for lunch and having a grand ol’ chat. She made us each a toasted ham sandwich, and we had a cup of tea, a fruit cup, and some chocolate cookies. A lot nicer than the crackers and cheese I had planned on eating! As we ate, Mary told me about her courting days with Claude, when he would walk from the village up to John Street in downtown St. John’s (“a long ol’ walk, b’y, I was cracked,” as he joked with me) and back again just to see her, and then about each of her seven children and what it was like raising them here. Mary stayed at home with her children until her youngest son turned 12, when she returned to work at the Department of Finance in Confederation Building. Though she has since retired, she still works today from September-December and from January-April, teaching tax courses and doing taxes for H&R Block. She even has an office upstairs in their home, she proudly told me. I was struck by her good nature and sense of humor and didn’t feel like I was “in the field”; honestly, I felt like I was visiting a friend and chatting about old times. I think she felt the same way, though. When I was getting ready to leave, she told me I’m going to have to come back and visit her after our time in Quidi Vidi is up. But she also said a somewhat cliché thing that before this field school, I wouldn’t have thought twice about: “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.” <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Lunch is served! Mary Ring pauses for a quick snap</b></td></tr>
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When I began this field school, I knew that 1) I really wanted to end up in a boat, and 2) I really wanted to cozy up to some wood heat in someone’s shed. And I’ve done both of those things. But honestly, I really just wanted to meet people here that in three months or three years time, I’d be able to sit down and chat with and it wouldn’t feel forced or like it was a requirement for a course. Because that’s where I find joy in studying Folklore; it truly is a field dedicated to telling people's stories and capturing their way of life.<br />
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What a Wednesday it turned out to be afterall!<br />
<br />
Kayla Carroll Kayla Carrollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07936260167935337903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-32952701999033171372013-09-24T20:19:00.000-07:002013-09-24T20:19:09.951-07:00Lessons from Quidi VidiThese past few weeks have gone by in the blink of an eye. Everyday has been a totally different experience. As our adventure comes to a close, it is a good time to reflect on some important lessons learned by our experiences here:<br />
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1. Do not come to Quidi Vidi with a full belly. Every resident and their dog will offer you a meal. <br />
2. Do not walk through town if you're in a hurry. You'll get into more conversations than you can count.<br />
3. Seagulls are perhaps the most vicious animal to walk the face of the earth. Throw a piece of fish into the water, and you'll swear they are piranha.<br />
4. Bring every piece of clothing that you can think of. The weather goes through all five seasons in one day. It may be cold and clear one minute, then windy and hot the next. I half expect it to be raining frogs tomorrow. <br />
5. DO NOT call the villagers townies. While technically Quidi Vidi is part of the St. John's now, the village does not consider itself a part of it.<br />
6. Always bring a camera. There is always something worth taking a picture of here, whether it be the scenery or the people. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A misty day in Quidi Vidi</td></tr>
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These lessons were hard earned, and some took time to sink in (the first one especially). For anyone who plans to spend some time in Quidi Vidi, this list can go a long way in preventing some headaches. I'm sure there are more things to be learned in this small village, but I would need a lifetime to discover them. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220128870782672171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-63981673021012148462013-09-23T22:00:00.000-07:002013-09-28T18:58:44.292-07:00And so our journey closes...<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">The first day of our last week and the pressure is on. To bring you into the experience, I’ll share with you what exactly we’ll be undertaking this week.<u></u><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Transcribing 5 minutes of a one-hour interview recorded earlier last week<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Creating an interview log<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Measuring and drawing floor plans for an assigned building in the community<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">A 500-word text to accompany that floor plan<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">A 500-word text to accompany the floor plans of a building measured and sketched earlier last week.<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Sort through 100s of photos to identify the 50 best<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Create an excel work sheet for meta-data (The bane of my existence)<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Complete a field notebook<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Write a five-page tradition essay<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">And Finally…<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Prepare a public presentation<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">So here I am, surrounded by a pile of field notes, sorting through photograph after photograph, while intermittently listening to an interview I recorded last week. And while I should be crumbling under the workload, (as any respectable graduate student does when rounding the end of a course) I’m actually amazed . . .<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Amazed at what I’ve learned- literally, in a matter of days<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Amazed at the relationships I’ve formed throughout the community<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Amazed that it’s almost over, and that one morning next week I’ll be sitting at a desk rather than walking toward a foggy and perfectly serene harbor<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">So, while today’s post isn’t overtly about eating cod tongue or ovaries, gutting fish, jigging cod, feeling nausea out on the open sea, kissing a birds bottom (a story for another post), climbing a hill side, measuring 200 year old homes, having hour long conversations with residents about their families, homes, and traditions or dancing with Linda in the dim light of the Quidi Vidi Inn of Olde . . . I thought I would write this post in appreciation for both the experience and joy of fieldwork, but also for a realization and appreciation for what comes next… recording our experience and enabling others perhaps a century from now to experience this moment not simply through the eyes of an American folklore student, but also through the voices of our new friends themselves. I feel honored to have been part of this project.<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Center: instrument used for line fishing </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Instrument used for sealing</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZAggQev9mToZ8V_7-497L41Tm4YHiVPbede6D1lDYdUnldrOELg-1QOcfNAzHTTNAEHdvR4VOawQN2mmyJbvlegfqLbLXUHJL9_zRgbst70N9BCNkULeJxb3u1sjoNU3VKizUTeMB754/s1600/IMG_0183.CR2" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZAggQev9mToZ8V_7-497L41Tm4YHiVPbede6D1lDYdUnldrOELg-1QOcfNAzHTTNAEHdvR4VOawQN2mmyJbvlegfqLbLXUHJL9_zRgbst70N9BCNkULeJxb3u1sjoNU3VKizUTeMB754/s320/IMG_0183.CR2" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Front to back: a jigger, a saw used shave bark from wood, <br />
instrument used for jigging cod</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A jigger (now illegal)</td></tr>
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christinelyse113@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221498806613185265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-5479148689909925112013-09-23T19:16:00.002-07:002013-09-23T19:16:43.251-07:00Real challenge<div class="MsoNormal">
The week began with a busy and challenging day. In this
week, we will complete our field school, and hand in perfect or imperfect
assignments. Most importantly, making presentation to the community, and let
the people who ever helped us to measure whether our work well done… Big
pressure to all of us, especially for me. If I have the chance to report to the
community, I think it would be a great practice to my oral English and courage.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Last whole week, we learnt how to draw a house and measure
it. All of us completed Mallard Cottage and elevation of a stage. I completed
Ring’s house as a group with charming Kayla, and completed John’s shed by my
own with the help of my partners Kayla and John LaDuke. I think they were very
fantastic experiences for us all. You can see a house alive in your draft
paper, about its history, atheistic and life. There were many problems took
place in the process. Even so you handled how to measure something accurately and
rapidly no matter in scale or reality. It practiced your patience because there
were many corners and details need to measure and draw. You became good at
drawing and your observation became profoundly. You will notice some details
you have never done before. For example how many layers of wall and how many
timbers it has- some details looked meaningless to others but the crucial
figures to you. It was a process I enjoy most.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Another thing I learned was team work. You know, measuring a
building need partners actually. One holds tape, one reads the figure, one draws.
No exception. So, being humble and learning to cooperate with partners is the
most important part to field school.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9eJFk8YGNMtYckhG79xzNJNQ0n0-KLL-UQgGPnAoK2-wEBzZM8OmqpkLku_UK_Q-29gLmMjbpWrJG8MXJOJq9zO0yVt2H004iRCBPgXYJrFY-GjYkh3aYzArnVHddgzITIOGGsHrcOw7M/s1600/IMGP3790.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9eJFk8YGNMtYckhG79xzNJNQ0n0-KLL-UQgGPnAoK2-wEBzZM8OmqpkLku_UK_Q-29gLmMjbpWrJG8MXJOJq9zO0yVt2H004iRCBPgXYJrFY-GjYkh3aYzArnVHddgzITIOGGsHrcOw7M/s1600/IMGP3790.jpg" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Paradise</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea gulls scramble for abandon fishes</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLPuOmEJlGvakDs0AW6z_XkQhfrbm21njGxZS3n6h6ipQwckQE3BM6w8EEFFGXdrQEARDyx13cQG4GrZfB7G-11zS5F7BUrNBqj4xY6hvdxfqzgV_-nZoLeVKYsqhoSil3kPimrUXgb3A/s1600/IMGP3852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLPuOmEJlGvakDs0AW6z_XkQhfrbm21njGxZS3n6h6ipQwckQE3BM6w8EEFFGXdrQEARDyx13cQG4GrZfB7G-11zS5F7BUrNBqj4xY6hvdxfqzgV_-nZoLeVKYsqhoSil3kPimrUXgb3A/s1600/IMGP3852.jpg" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The working fishermen and hungry sea gulls</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Today morning, John interviewed Peggy, I accompanied with
him as his partner. Even if I did not help a lot, I learned something from it.
Peggy is a legendary lady in my words. She is over 90 years old. In her long
span of life, you can see some wisdom shining still. John Barne said that she
was a very smart lady. She owned the mallard cottage as an antique businessman
many years. When she passed over store to her daughter and granddaughter, she began
living in the house opposite to mallard cottage. I am curious about her own
life, so I put forward to interview her again. She is a very humorous old lady,
let me remember an old lady I ever interviewed- she is intangible heritage
inheritor of Yugur ethnic group. I think humor is important merit of human. Being
humor can maintain optimistic and young. Peggy told us “Don’t laugh at old. You
all will be old one day”<i>.</i> Peggy
gifted us some presents. John got a sea bear made by whale bone; I got a shell-inlaid
jewellery box and a book called <i>Chinese
Mythology</i>… Peggy is a very knowledgeable and amiable lady. I hope I can
interview her smoothly. But till now I have not prepared well my questions. It’s
hard for me even if I do interview in my hometown freely. I have to conquer
that and communicate naturally with people. I’ll try.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGS8nqIsSKat2T7Mzxf020dOeFRKOucqM935FZnRLzXlJO0odHBxxPfJ9pmjOvDlFKJEk-5Zma2FgxcjrGTrZuA0wX86V-zbnW9_apA9jqXJAxPLpxZjUnrJyXGuP3FVkpEZaA0yDtZE7/s1600/IMGP3896.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGS8nqIsSKat2T7Mzxf020dOeFRKOucqM935FZnRLzXlJO0odHBxxPfJ9pmjOvDlFKJEk-5Zma2FgxcjrGTrZuA0wX86V-zbnW9_apA9jqXJAxPLpxZjUnrJyXGuP3FVkpEZaA0yDtZE7/s1600/IMGP3896.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peggy is talking history of quidi vidi</td></tr>
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In the end, I will put up a little poem from Peggy when she was young.</div>
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<b>Thoughts on mallard cottage, Quidi vidi during restoration</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizy3nIBdIEPWoOoTRRUjN3uoos1A2Y9rmRsOyxg6zAPoZg-nW_IAI4ug28CstiRGNyFIQu0viYU6rlgHGOfhOVva6o1W7FSGSi9PRfeet_0tVvE7LWB4QZXU5qUNskHOGvCDkiVt-XF1Uj/s1600/IMGP3909.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizy3nIBdIEPWoOoTRRUjN3uoos1A2Y9rmRsOyxg6zAPoZg-nW_IAI4ug28CstiRGNyFIQu0viYU6rlgHGOfhOVva6o1W7FSGSi9PRfeet_0tVvE7LWB4QZXU5qUNskHOGvCDkiVt-XF1Uj/s1600/IMGP3909.jpg" height="400" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peggy is lost in thought carrying comet in her arms</td></tr>
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The years dissolve miraculously<o:p></o:p></div>
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Two centuries come alive for me<o:p></o:p></div>
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Beneath my probing tools<o:p></o:p></div>
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Old ghosts arise and share my chores<o:p></o:p></div>
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I ask them “Is this mine or yours”?<o:p></o:p></div>
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They smile their enigmatic smiles<o:p></o:p></div>
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That beckon me across the miles<o:p></o:p></div>
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Of hopes and dreams and endless toil<o:p></o:p></div>
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That caused this house to be<o:p></o:p></div>
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The joys they shared with family<o:p></o:p></div>
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And, too, the hours of misery<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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As I climb the steep worn stairway<o:p></o:p></div>
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Up to my cosy bed<o:p></o:p></div>
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I ponder on the families<o:p></o:p></div>
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Who trod where now I tread<o:p></o:p></div>
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Who carved these Roman numerals<o:p></o:p></div>
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On sloping boards of fir?<o:p></o:p></div>
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So slowly now revealed to me<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Neath paper layer on layer<o:p></o:p></div>
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Each pattern chosen lovingly<o:p></o:p></div>
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By “Mallard” women kind<o:p></o:p></div>
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Without a thought of heritage<o:p></o:p></div>
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That they would leave behind<o:p></o:p></div>
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Layers that helped to insulate<o:p></o:p></div>
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Against Atlantic cold<o:p></o:p></div>
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And winds from Quidi Vidi Gut<o:p></o:p></div>
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Through winters all untold<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Who forgot the firetongs<o:p></o:p></div>
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Boarded beneath the stair<o:p></o:p></div>
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Of the staircase to the bedrooms<o:p></o:p></div>
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For me to find them there?<o:p></o:p></div>
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The fine old centre chimney brick<o:p></o:p></div>
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Begins to crumble dust<o:p></o:p></div>
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Revealing a soldier’s button<o:p></o:p></div>
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Without a trace of rust<o:p></o:p></div>
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How did it come to be wedged away<o:p></o:p></div>
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For me to wonder on today?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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No square corners- no level floors<o:p></o:p></div>
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Latches instead of knobs on doors<o:p></o:p></div>
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A cache of bottle ‘neath the floor<o:p></o:p></div>
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Been there a hundred years or more<o:p></o:p></div>
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Stand now in
sparkling to today<o:p></o:p></div>
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Repairs become more like excavation<o:p></o:p></div>
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And each new find a revelation.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Strong ceiling beams- so very low<o:p></o:p></div>
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Small window- panes in moonlight’s glow<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-6ahmdRxRgMJlvuEjD2oFXua9YxjI3B2dsULJ5e8d6wMGFQHIPKUte4SMTc9r-5FqCyCRn_3N6HFdwhTSsJleta_XEE2mHL2Yia6xJ2pb7U7CbXg30oZF2jauR8aZ6-1t-R8CB8-A8G9a/s1600/peg%E4%BA%86.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-6ahmdRxRgMJlvuEjD2oFXua9YxjI3B2dsULJ5e8d6wMGFQHIPKUte4SMTc9r-5FqCyCRn_3N6HFdwhTSsJleta_XEE2mHL2Yia6xJ2pb7U7CbXg30oZF2jauR8aZ6-1t-R8CB8-A8G9a/s1600/peg%E4%BA%86.jpg" height="320" width="299" /></a>How many women have waited there<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Watching, listening and wondering where<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Menfolk and children are today?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some things are constant anyway<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like birth and death this house has known<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And seeds of kindness gently sown<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Old house you live and breathe like me<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And hold your place in history<o:p></o:p></div>
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A heritage of Newfoundland<o:p></o:p></div>
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Helping us to understand<o:p></o:p></div>
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Those pioneers from Ireland<o:p></o:p></div>
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So far across the sea<o:p></o:p></div>
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The story of a hardy folk<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And how ‘we’ came to be.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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By Peg Magnone, Mallard cottage, winter 1989</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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(The material source is MUN DAI)</div>
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<br /></div>
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All of the photos above were shot by Wang Xuan except the last one</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09466717797583043682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-67399585346785899632013-09-21T13:41:00.000-07:002013-09-23T07:18:53.139-07:00Learning in StagesYesterday, we continued to learn how to document buildings from expert Ed Chappell. This time, the group project was to measure and then draw an elevation of Barry Pittman's fish stage. Since an elevation is a representation of the complete view of one side of a building, creating one involved a great deal of exploring the stage in order to get the correct measurements and drawing on paper, from banding together to measure beams from a precarious floating dock to crawling underneath the stage to fill in all of the rocks that form part of the foundation that keeps the stage above water.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxRpmij5mokJGeSHWunyGh6ntRkzAs4filSUQZMFVcjgi3Ivgl7Nuj8J3ILyuHehTJI8i2EQONjT1TzNGvotkD15DbV3nKXXaCC2PmEQBliRB45bFCiCHhW5jJQCxzBGwORXe0bIIub98/s1600/DSC_0559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxRpmij5mokJGeSHWunyGh6ntRkzAs4filSUQZMFVcjgi3Ivgl7Nuj8J3ILyuHehTJI8i2EQONjT1TzNGvotkD15DbV3nKXXaCC2PmEQBliRB45bFCiCHhW5jJQCxzBGwORXe0bIIub98/s320/DSC_0559.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barry Pittman's stage. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8tpFEUHwqyl-DamoyKSgxPCg6jI0qbhcRKzh3GelG6lqaPFHbnuPfHShp1MGUvJr1nayglu9ofzjoTZiTgsBsh1y3FS2rzrQgNepUIG-YG8ts1j01WHiIZ53yhiOZx-bOBZ6pixJGRCs/s1600/DSC_0629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8tpFEUHwqyl-DamoyKSgxPCg6jI0qbhcRKzh3GelG6lqaPFHbnuPfHShp1MGUvJr1nayglu9ofzjoTZiTgsBsh1y3FS2rzrQgNepUIG-YG8ts1j01WHiIZ53yhiOZx-bOBZ6pixJGRCs/s320/DSC_0629.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed Chappell, Wang Xuan, Christine Blythe, and Kayla Carroll work on measuring the stage. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The reason that we should still learn to draw an elevation of a building rather than just take a picture of the same view, we learned, is that measuring and drawing the building leads to a greater understanding of it. As I scooted slowly along the edge of the fish stage, shepherding the tape measure from pole to pole, I began to experience the difference myself. I had taken photographs of the stage, but it was not until I was on the stage to measure it that I really stopped to consider the distinctive nature of this structure. The striking combination of the poles at the front of the stage, fashioned from logs still rough with bark, and the smooth boards of the deck where I worked led me to reflect on the particular makeup of the fish stage, a new structure that mirrors past stages in Quidi Vidi due to its construction using the traditional design. Though there are many new buildings in the village, the old ways appear to be alive and well right alongside them in the form of stages such as the one we documented.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKhqhmluHyptfW_ecHmSUaAz3NUs81VzYW4E4XDvnHnZ9g0flPf7gFYAt5SO5MgbSwJCnVYazNHArrZpn0xJnVm1NtQkIk4-Ka9hHV2B3q6CpzETDPM3jT5L2vz9rf7TraQeAyvVEYzU/s1600/DSC_0563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKhqhmluHyptfW_ecHmSUaAz3NUs81VzYW4E4XDvnHnZ9g0flPf7gFYAt5SO5MgbSwJCnVYazNHArrZpn0xJnVm1NtQkIk4-Ka9hHV2B3q6CpzETDPM3jT5L2vz9rf7TraQeAyvVEYzU/s320/DSC_0563.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The front of Barry Pittman's stage. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Klara Nichterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00318447363777693813noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-62098116441271580672013-09-20T20:57:00.000-07:002013-09-20T20:57:25.252-07:00One step at a time As our second week draws to a close, it has become clear that fieldwork is a very complex endeavour. In order to capture the most complete context possible, multiple methods are utilised including our own field notes, audio and/or video recordings, building documentation, photography, and secondary sources. Not only are all of these forms intricate in their own right, but they must, in the end, be woven together to provide a coherent glimpse into someone’s life. And, at times, it is all rather overwhelming. But, as I was reminded yesterday, I need only take it one step at a time. <br /><br />Yesterday was the first opportunity I had to see the Gray brothers’ stage that I was assigned to document. Because it can be only reached by boat, it requires a little more coordination to view it, but I was fortunate that Wendell Gray was more than willing to shuttle me back and forth between his stage and the Plantation. And as I was making my way down the ladder into his boat (determined that I would not be the grad student who falls in the water), Wendell’s sage advice was to just take it “one step at a time”. So that is what I did, and what I continued to do today as I tried my hand at drawing the plan for one of the buildings on his stage.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWanxD_3NB1lAvjMVabGogUG5HfZo19fHdG7pMYPyt58UhvIiKZB_g3-9m6dCq8SeahGQLvEpwfjxFRzkgfuqelFCQ-ERaX4y6l20vSIsiBipRpkuN-UhVoITMYa54JX0KvrgMrOJdws/s1600/DSC_0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWanxD_3NB1lAvjMVabGogUG5HfZo19fHdG7pMYPyt58UhvIiKZB_g3-9m6dCq8SeahGQLvEpwfjxFRzkgfuqelFCQ-ERaX4y6l20vSIsiBipRpkuN-UhVoITMYa54JX0KvrgMrOJdws/s320/DSC_0020.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wendell brothers' stage. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX-n8MtLSTgsznEoYKVOi9iWnkQrV0QYcxTgVXLP0C0jaWnOvlfYlMGFUQ7YOjVUrRtZ8k-kP6zCkJ34X3PUJfHhb-6LvxZ7NVygWna03se3-a-5omRmz9EdldGO8U5SYPMuiJ8jkhJkU/s1600/DSC_0055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
This week I discovered that, for me, one of the hardest parts of building documentation is knowing where to begin. Even though I am armed with a good eraser, plenty of time, and patient team members, making that first line is daunting. Yet, if I can get it drawn, taking it one measurement at a time, I soon discover that everything slowly comes together. And all of a sudden, with a little luck, the lines join up and there is a building plan on the page. <br /><br /> The focus on small steps continued as Ed Chappell reviewed my drawing this afternoon. Instead of giving into the perfectionist urge to redraw the entire thing to ensure that it is beyond immaculate, I learned to identify the specific parts that need a little adjusting and how to go about doing so. Sometimes, all an area needs is a little clarification provided by colour or a bit of detail to flesh out the story of the building.<br /><br />So as I go into the final week and work to put everything together, I shall try to focus on each step along the way, knowing that it will all come together in the end.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX-n8MtLSTgsznEoYKVOi9iWnkQrV0QYcxTgVXLP0C0jaWnOvlfYlMGFUQ7YOjVUrRtZ8k-kP6zCkJ34X3PUJfHhb-6LvxZ7NVygWna03se3-a-5omRmz9EdldGO8U5SYPMuiJ8jkhJkU/s1600/DSC_0055.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX-n8MtLSTgsznEoYKVOi9iWnkQrV0QYcxTgVXLP0C0jaWnOvlfYlMGFUQ7YOjVUrRtZ8k-kP6zCkJ34X3PUJfHhb-6LvxZ7NVygWna03se3-a-5omRmz9EdldGO8U5SYPMuiJ8jkhJkU/s320/DSC_0055.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the Gray brothers' stage. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2hLNCqBtPT7fb8yfNa6dgsfZJd0wb_FyWgSBYAHhwK6iadCbfzwh7ziQS092B6s1xMXlU50TKfW6wNOJp_rSc6_mS7i7PyjTE5hapR5acXW4FqHvq25GjyNVHzksVYyXTA41RTDDEFFI/s1600/DSC_0051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2hLNCqBtPT7fb8yfNa6dgsfZJd0wb_FyWgSBYAHhwK6iadCbfzwh7ziQS092B6s1xMXlU50TKfW6wNOJp_rSc6_mS7i7PyjTE5hapR5acXW4FqHvq25GjyNVHzksVYyXTA41RTDDEFFI/s320/DSC_0051.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wendell Gray with some of his fishing tools Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
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<br /> <i>The following are a few pictures I took yesterday when Wendell graciously took me out in his boat to see a little bit of the coast. The weather was absolutely gorgeous!</i><br />
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<i> </i><br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14930205677906748761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-4960384025217139222013-09-19T17:34:00.004-07:002013-09-19T17:34:28.876-07:00The Real Stars of Quidi VidiWe have come to meet a great assortment of people at Quidi Vidi. They have all been kind and open, despite us bungling through their homes. Today, I would like two focus on two of the village's most famous citizens. Both of them have captured our hearts and imaginations. Their names are Queen and Comet. This blog post is dedicated to them, with profiles to give the reader an idea of their greatness. Without further ado... <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5slbtrnpRdAE4rCVS2S_SNPQ4mapq19f7gywybymX4B1K1EJSLuVXlKE-OdqRv6aNgK_UgMKrxAyPQ2ff0wiM4xyFrThfZqbRKDc78IW5i3oQo1435myRV96Dwt6vP1ot96V6oh0Cymp/s1600/doggy1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5slbtrnpRdAE4rCVS2S_SNPQ4mapq19f7gywybymX4B1K1EJSLuVXlKE-OdqRv6aNgK_UgMKrxAyPQ2ff0wiM4xyFrThfZqbRKDc78IW5i3oQo1435myRV96Dwt6vP1ot96V6oh0Cymp/s1600/doggy1.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Queen Sniffing about</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Queen</b><br />
<br />
Queen is a member of the Barnes family, who live in the heart of the village. She is a stout mixed breed with a long golden coat. She can be seen wandering with Johnny or Anne, always with a happy expression on her face. She loves meeting new people, and always welcomes being pet. Her greatest talent is posing for photos by sitting down and raising her paw. Queen does have one weakness though. Despite living at the edge of the ocean, Queen is afraid of water. But who can blame her? The waters of Newfoundland are freezing! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Comet taking a well deserved rest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Comet</b><br />
<br />
Comet is the dog of Peggy, a long time resident of Quidi Vidi. He is a long haired beagle, with looks rare for his breed. Comet is of Scottish decent, with his great grandmother originating from the Isle of Skye. Amazingly this dog is 15 years old. The advancing years have not slowed him down. Comet can be seen frolicking and playing in Peggy's yard with the energy of a 2 year old dog. His favorite past time is lying on the lap of Peggy, remaining her faithful companion for all these many years. <br />
<br />
<b>Disclaimer:</b> There is one resident of Quid Vidi who's demeanor is not so kind. He is calico cat with an orange blotch on his head. I do not know his name, but i have taken to calling him "pumpkin head". He may look innocent enough sleeping on a bench, but he is not to be trifled with. This cat has already made an attack on me, and I fear he may do the same to others. Beware this menace! <br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220128870782672171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-23438048500506424022013-09-19T16:24:00.001-07:002013-09-19T16:24:21.489-07:00Searching for clues of times gone by<div class="MsoNormal">
In the spring of 2013 I attended a community information
session for the Quidi Vidi Village Field School. I was intrigued when a woman
from the village spoke up and mentioned the degree to which the area had changed
in recent years, and how a great number of buildings had either fallen down or
been demolished in recent years. This is a theme that I have heard again and
again since beginning the field school this September. </div>
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As an archaeologist my ears instinctively perk up when I
hear about architecture and other physical remains that no longer exists: those
that have long ago, or even recently, vanished into the landscape. I often find
myself inspecting old timbers sticking out of an eroding bank while pondering
their origins, or picking up discarded objects found along a pathway to try to
decipher what the discarded garbage used to be. At the field school, I’ve
embraced this curiosity and descended into the village to look for clues and traces
of the architecture and physical objects that were once a common part of this
bustling little place, but have now disappeared. On Tuesday I climbed to the
top of a hill behind the village to look at the foundations of what was once a
farmhouse. Today the tide was the lowest that I have noticed yet so it was the
perfect day to look for traces of old structures along the waters edge.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remains of a wharf in front of the Flake House</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ballast pound, likely from an old stage</td></tr>
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Directly after leaving the Plantation – which itself is
named after a building that no longer exists – I caught a glimpse of broken and
submerged timbers in front of the now vacant Flake House restaurant. I asked a
man who was working on a boat near by if he knew what they were and he told me
that they once belonged to a wharf that the owners let go. Further down the
road, past the Quidi Vidi Brewery, I stumbled upon two old ballast pounds - as
well as bricks and old timbers - all of which were likely the remains of fish
stages once situated on the bank of the bay. My journey ended at Land Rock, the
site of an eighteenth and nineteenth-century fishing station. While visible
remnants of the station’s architecture are likely long gone, signs of the areas
past activities can still be found in the form of eighteenth and nineteenth-century
ceramics, glass, and pipe stems littered across the beach and eroding from its
banks. While much of the village has changed, my short walk has clearly shown
me that clues about its former shape can still be easily seen inscribed within
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Building rubble along the bay</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A late 18th or early 19th century pipe stem fragment </td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11239513939890040430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-11376393746833484722013-09-18T22:30:00.000-07:002013-09-18T18:43:43.036-07:00If Walls Could Talk <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
Monday we began the section of the field school on vernacular
architecture. Ed Chappell, an architectural historian who works at
Colonial Williamsburg, is our guest lecturer and has been teaching us how to
draw architectural floor plans. During the past three days we have learned the
techniques used to draw floor plans and have spent several hours discussing their utility. I’ll have to admit, as someone who was
drawn to folklore, almost exclusively, on her own obsession for people and
their stories, architecture fell somewhere on the scale between mildly
interesting and hardly interesting at all. While historic buildings possessed a
certain aesthetic and historical significance that I found fascinating my interest
was grounded in the people who lived there, rather than the structural artifact
itself.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
However, yesterday, as we stood in the Mallard home mapping out its
dimensions, meticulously examining the wood, carefully estimating the
approximate location of relics now absent, I realized that this home and these
vestiges of the past told a story, a very intimate story about the residents
who once lived there. The ropes and rags that peak through the wooden panels
snuggly positioned along the wall, the remnants of a small lobby roughly etched
into the wood, the special elements of the room, and the
methodically placed windows all collectively illuminated the past experiences,
technologies, and even daily flow of life for the residents who once inhabited
the Mallard home. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
There is the saying “if these walls could talk…” well I am beginning to
think that they do, but we need special skills to make their voices audible. (And after today, I'm realizing it takes a lot of work to make them audible.)<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0vqE5M31dGGI3s_8m4wp4g-tUnYyCUhs-tUUlpSHYRrvbxQOXWWu5MzMEcu2YEuJ47l0IZFfi_SPKATlNShA7gJ58pZ_GE70kfZ3NEPjpfmLrhOykkxANS9JBWUH5fyxCdUb_mlPmHY/s1600/IMG_0070.CR2" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0vqE5M31dGGI3s_8m4wp4g-tUnYyCUhs-tUUlpSHYRrvbxQOXWWu5MzMEcu2YEuJ47l0IZFfi_SPKATlNShA7gJ58pZ_GE70kfZ3NEPjpfmLrhOykkxANS9JBWUH5fyxCdUb_mlPmHY/s320/IMG_0070.CR2" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed Chappell sketching the outer <br />
walls of the Mallard Cottage</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkna-ELuMbu4U-x5jOuB-C8D6L7Y0WLUch1QiAtcjHpI3H4F_ty1ceAQ5YUOoG-FMZeRJdGA6Gr4Nnx9uvtkkP_vQFXwRTkJT_tVFKjKakIepSsHdYI2EMB7jRScaF8SgStTeOweGJh0c/s1600/IMG_0080.CR2" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkna-ELuMbu4U-x5jOuB-C8D6L7Y0WLUch1QiAtcjHpI3H4F_ty1ceAQ5YUOoG-FMZeRJdGA6Gr4Nnx9uvtkkP_vQFXwRTkJT_tVFKjKakIepSsHdYI2EMB7jRScaF8SgStTeOweGJh0c/s320/IMG_0080.CR2" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beam on North wall of Mallard Cottage</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXEylDzzKhv0uEX4JMoDotw1sz-jYDPUQDjhYCSNWbwoR_Gzml8aOncvYSGr5kXnliGhfT31Zp3Fsaw2fJwyHto603I6iOutrHdE3AHMJ2IkzoFsR9ro-KfHYqWzBI4oGI-SWlAzW1hPo/s1600/IMG_0086.CR2" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXEylDzzKhv0uEX4JMoDotw1sz-jYDPUQDjhYCSNWbwoR_Gzml8aOncvYSGr5kXnliGhfT31Zp3Fsaw2fJwyHto603I6iOutrHdE3AHMJ2IkzoFsR9ro-KfHYqWzBI4oGI-SWlAzW1hPo/s320/IMG_0086.CR2" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Artistic shot of the window, roof, beams, and lighting<br />
fixture in the Mallard Cottage</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg96yhF4yjIx_b0o1l_Fw8FEXxgJ1b8z4q9V3cNdPH1_Tg7BDm2cNp1_i2uFAD-teP8EgALIo1s8uCEdyPjGuYPLzi-oVMuuYIUo-GyT4XTFp9OswiU4Ahwkxu_opbRGceN5yxVWoA5dY0/s1600/IMG_0088.CR2" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg96yhF4yjIx_b0o1l_Fw8FEXxgJ1b8z4q9V3cNdPH1_Tg7BDm2cNp1_i2uFAD-teP8EgALIo1s8uCEdyPjGuYPLzi-oVMuuYIUo-GyT4XTFp9OswiU4Ahwkxu_opbRGceN5yxVWoA5dY0/s320/IMG_0088.CR2" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed Chappell drawing floor plan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZhjH2xIYOmtSNpl8EJQoOcVYG98Q8vuDMnVOFjZ0imhgxyA0bW77mUalk8_7sF1KtcdLREBaJqEoByy-MYNXzsyqgxIStqcSSZIiY5F4DAhPwazGYqQ8hXIkwdRMY9kw4NqN1CdcARU/s1600/IMG_0090.CR2" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZhjH2xIYOmtSNpl8EJQoOcVYG98Q8vuDMnVOFjZ0imhgxyA0bW77mUalk8_7sF1KtcdLREBaJqEoByy-MYNXzsyqgxIStqcSSZIiY5F4DAhPwazGYqQ8hXIkwdRMY9kw4NqN1CdcARU/s320/IMG_0090.CR2" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christine Blythe's feet on original wood floor<br />
in the Mallard Cottage</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<br /></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->christinelyse113@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221498806613185265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-47371993818965369132013-09-18T18:03:00.002-07:002013-09-18T18:03:25.190-07:00"Which end do I measure from again?" Confessions of a tape measure phobe<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</xml><![endif]-->Today was interesting, to say the least. If you’ve been following our blog this week, you’ll recall that us Folklore 6020 students are blessed to be joined by the very kind, very knowledgeable Ed Chappell of Colonial Williamsburg. You would have read Xuan, Kari, and Christine’s descriptions about how we’ve been learning about vernacular architecture and how yesterday, we helped draw a floor plan of Mallard Cottage. And you probably thought wow, what a great week these guys are having! Well, I can assure you that yes, we are very lucky, and yes, we are learning a lot. But I have to admit that today, for the first time since starting this field school, I felt completely out of my element. <br /><br />That’s probably a good thing. I mean, the rest of these guys have moved to a new University/province/country. I’ve had it pretty good so far. So you’d think that today’s assignment- drawing a fairly detailed floor plan of a house- would have been a welcomed challenge for me. And let me clarify, I am glad to be forced outside my comfort level. I just didn’t think I’d feel as scared of a drawing board and a tape measure! <br /><br />Let me digress for a minute. Remember how in Junior High math, everyone had a chapter they absolutely detested? For some, it was algebra. Other people despised fractions. For me, it was always the chapter with graph paper. In fact, it was always the assignment with graph paper. Because if you give me a ruler and a pencil, and you tell me to draw a neat 5cm line, I’ll probably give you a 4cm line that starts neatly at one end and skews down in a mess. It’s because 1) I’m sloppy and 2) I’m sloppy with details. Okay, digression over. <br /><br />All of these things were in my head as Xuan and I left the comforts of Quidi Vidi Plantation with our measuring tapes, drawing board and shiny new pencils in tow. We started out at Mary and Claude Ring’s house around 10:30, under the watchful eyes of Ed and Jerry. Within five minutes, I was sat on the pavement with my eyebrows scrunched together, in near tears, desperately trying to figure out where to start. And amidst all that chaos, I briefly thought back to a point that’s been made a few times the past couple of days about the ability to draw these plans: “this may be the only time someone ever documents this building. So if you’re going to do it, you should do it right.” <br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Xuan and I work out a measurement</b></td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtsUn7M-ORbzoMG_LjN1qE252B8tN-uOQkk5sEZZu8e-_-Pqmjk7iKQSN_059iY1RuwKJYcbGJDHxA3OD68ruygu3jLhMnmrS4_jUcEN7WfkvWZLqT6ih-xCCc7ppEdZgyuUvLWx-XvagK/s1600/DSC_0465.NEF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtsUn7M-ORbzoMG_LjN1qE252B8tN-uOQkk5sEZZu8e-_-Pqmjk7iKQSN_059iY1RuwKJYcbGJDHxA3OD68ruygu3jLhMnmrS4_jUcEN7WfkvWZLqT6ih-xCCc7ppEdZgyuUvLWx-XvagK/s320/DSC_0465.NEF" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Xuan is concentrating hard here! We're trying to figure out how to draw in the stairs.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Unfortunately that wasn’t the miraculous turning point today. I'll be honest and say I still had to erase and re-draw my crooked lines. I still occasionally felt like crumbling our sketch up and firing it down in Quidi Vidi Gut. And I never did quite figure out how to properly plot ¾ of an inch using a ½ inch scale. But at the end of the day, I realized that it was knowing how important the work we were doing that really guided my learning in this process. Whereas back in Grade 8 math when I begrudged every trapezoid I had to rotate 180 degrees, today I felt proud that at the end of this field school, my classmates and I will have something valuable to give back to the people in Quidi Vidi who have been so kind and welcoming to us. <br /><br />How’s that for a Wednesday? <br /><br />Kayla CarrollKayla Carrollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07936260167935337903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-84775807596885868562013-09-17T20:08:00.001-07:002013-09-17T20:10:09.180-07:00The "Ghost" Shadow<div class="MsoNormal">
We have done field school nearly ten days. This week, we do
something different. First of all, do you want to sketch a house as a
professional architect? Ed will teach you. Yesterday, he showed us some building
pictures and drawing sheets in Virginia. They all are splendid buildings and I
think they ever must belong to planters in central and Southern America. Drawing
sheets are equal to arts. You will agree with me when you see the pictures of
Ed’s. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Buildings express stories and emotions by silent and
motionless way. Something interesting is that there are some historical “ghosts”
hiding behind every mark curved in board, brick and pillar. When Ed spoke out
this term, we felt confused. In folklore, it means many many mysterious and
curious stories that worth to dig. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Mallard cottage is one of the building heritages in quidi
vidi, as well as the Christ church and Hennebury’s house. Yesterday, we stepped
into Hennebury’s house and investigated it generally. For example the scale and
design of house and basement, as well as the changes by remote or close
renovations. I think it was fantastic. However, when we learn how to draw the
draft today, I start to know the truth of architecture. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrnk9nhXiuwWXHXEM9BIEx-o_WAgVo1NP2SC5MALiyfiZf5LokB_cf-wxzjXnciUdZO_lmNPVNPi0A1WvhTEonWK8yJLvgS1zKBWCpqYzAbNQGA3SSR_hZzzhMHIswbDS_MINt19dz1Ld/s1600/IMGP2475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrnk9nhXiuwWXHXEM9BIEx-o_WAgVo1NP2SC5MALiyfiZf5LokB_cf-wxzjXnciUdZO_lmNPVNPi0A1WvhTEonWK8yJLvgS1zKBWCpqYzAbNQGA3SSR_hZzzhMHIswbDS_MINt19dz1Ld/s1600/IMGP2475.JPG" height="285" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed & Jerry investigate some details in the wall of Hennebury's basement</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx7tr9QJPnUcYDgLslpxd7lZ6KCYf4KmOh08RY7zdcwY3T8Ozq8GjDL8UkNo0lgE2l1xiRlTuZv9OOq71lgc8vYxXeGttDv5fMggSiJHimSnvko7zwGKSCLNVRIKtv_g63RdPZ9Y-go_ge/s1600/IMGP2675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx7tr9QJPnUcYDgLslpxd7lZ6KCYf4KmOh08RY7zdcwY3T8Ozq8GjDL8UkNo0lgE2l1xiRlTuZv9OOq71lgc8vYxXeGttDv5fMggSiJHimSnvko7zwGKSCLNVRIKtv_g63RdPZ9Y-go_ge/s1600/IMGP2675.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They are cool! Right?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzJv3vBqBjwGMZnmLU56sLDaC8yhxkzeTQ8z1TEprVeER8uervPsi0F_MARDOWe0HGahbUreJN4xOrPJoJUVOE1gpr_jfpCVC8WiI0C2Bjf4PUab_PKANkNKZ8QUNu65A9IGVhocUDHuRc/s1600/IMGP2726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzJv3vBqBjwGMZnmLU56sLDaC8yhxkzeTQ8z1TEprVeER8uervPsi0F_MARDOWe0HGahbUreJN4xOrPJoJUVOE1gpr_jfpCVC8WiI0C2Bjf4PUab_PKANkNKZ8QUNu65A9IGVhocUDHuRc/s1600/IMGP2726.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed & Jerry & Hennebury observe the wooden structure below the stage</td></tr>
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Today morning, we studied how to deal with a drawing sheet
in classroom. Our equipment included scale, painting board, paper, pencil,
eraser, long tape and short tape… Very professional, huh? At least for me, the
equipment compelled me to treat the buildings seriously. At first, I was
confused by the foot and inch. You know, in China, all of us use centimeter, meters
and kilometers to scale length. So I had no idea about that totally. But my
teammates taught me carefully, I handled the procedure finally. The small scale
is to make sure the paper-based proportion of actual length of a building.
Moreover, one foot equals 12 inches. It totally new common sense for me! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am fond of painting keenly, so I think I can do it without
problem, only plus some practices. However, I underestimated the complexity of
drawing sheets. Ed asked us to measure every side of a window, include inside
and outside, as well as the fireplace and door. And in general thought,
something should be central and symmetrical; it was proved be false in the front
of reality- the fireplace is not in even central. If I done this without guide
of Ed, I would estimate some length as general thought. Maybe only through strict
practice can we understand the truth of science. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd_dVcPz9uUU5Ap5b-YumnPk4v9vDaTEs5MHWJlNrTBSKiveCnr9CNXQpnTSwmWTcNF4LuVL_HatjYzt9CuEq7iRdSWKYQX7oCiiyTeekFvLGDD479KPp0a0RoNHinocRKlg7m-wuuJK6Z/s1600/IMGP2742.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd_dVcPz9uUU5Ap5b-YumnPk4v9vDaTEs5MHWJlNrTBSKiveCnr9CNXQpnTSwmWTcNF4LuVL_HatjYzt9CuEq7iRdSWKYQX7oCiiyTeekFvLGDD479KPp0a0RoNHinocRKlg7m-wuuJK6Z/s1600/IMGP2742.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed is sitting on the ground to draw along with a circle of students</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlXlWevag63qWWtvkTa5s3MquG37pUcmgKSL1v0e9jcgpCGrqgLANyM8bvHyJE1KKOw1BF8ZRoRpplBp7BzXQhV5krSVazK8tjONVwpedxBBwiLIlPBfyHhfDJJwWZdXsbm5QVEvSe0pc4/s1600/IMGP2475_%E5%89%AF%E6%9C%AC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlXlWevag63qWWtvkTa5s3MquG37pUcmgKSL1v0e9jcgpCGrqgLANyM8bvHyJE1KKOw1BF8ZRoRpplBp7BzXQhV5krSVazK8tjONVwpedxBBwiLIlPBfyHhfDJJwWZdXsbm5QVEvSe0pc4/s1600/IMGP2475_%E5%89%AF%E6%9C%AC.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of the people measure house carefully</td></tr>
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In the gap of complicated measurement, Ed and Jerry discussed
some “ghosts” with Megan and Adrain. In my mind, ghost is most close to archaeology.
Archaeologists trace big found by silky clues
and tiny marks. Ed and Jerry were attracted by the shadows and marks called “ghosts”,
and intended to reconstruct original image of Mallard cottage. It was ever been
a porch near the side door, and there was another door separating the porch
space and hall. And the cube grooves in one board in the wall indicated that
the board ever was used in roof then left these grooves. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlzVrZocIPjLLfcYoC93U-RDtNxVp4q7kOklMxNQL_Ivr4Sr1Ly2OSXYhHdPB9IHVcZlcdWEHPphUeyr2lKDvfuTF4X0hi0u051JMGuIlXM7lngACsLbLZa-FiPClaWIhmpvKeArBRHjds/s1600/IMGP2475_%E5%89%AF%E6%9C%AC1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlzVrZocIPjLLfcYoC93U-RDtNxVp4q7kOklMxNQL_Ivr4Sr1Ly2OSXYhHdPB9IHVcZlcdWEHPphUeyr2lKDvfuTF4X0hi0u051JMGuIlXM7lngACsLbLZa-FiPClaWIhmpvKeArBRHjds/s1600/IMGP2475_%E5%89%AF%E6%9C%AC1.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ghosts- Two pictures above show the proof of wooden structure around the fireplace and vanished porch </td></tr>
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Most astonishing part
was the vanished porch between the front door and fireplace. The owner Todd told
us that there ever been a porch connected front door with fireplace. Ed and
Jerry doubted that because the location of mark did not match the fireplace’s
side width. Todd said that there were some wooden structures round the
fireplace, so it matched the wooden structures but not the bricks. The wooden
part has vanished. Then, they found that the width and structure of crossgirders
were different. Moreover, they noticed the marks in the crossgirders in a row had
equal length. Finally, they measured them, confirmed the words that there was a
porch between fireplace and door as Todd Perrin said. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GA1tgXyzZj2bSsF7OPCXmL4us3gioQ7NDBpf3Jvmj3kLwQgxQ7D3oI0z-KlaGGaUH2GJsDVsrAtqERoayzBUbu-EuzYxzDn1Or3x4YpVAdQEG010bINxyhnj_pssvwdC5MlsBfwGc8oM/s1600/IMGP2964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GA1tgXyzZj2bSsF7OPCXmL4us3gioQ7NDBpf3Jvmj3kLwQgxQ7D3oI0z-KlaGGaUH2GJsDVsrAtqERoayzBUbu-EuzYxzDn1Or3x4YpVAdQEG010bINxyhnj_pssvwdC5MlsBfwGc8oM/s1600/IMGP2964.JPG" height="400" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Same length marks of a row of crossgirders is labelled by yellow lines for blog reading</td></tr>
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Very meaningful and exciting process. People get some
conclusion from ever marks and reconstruct the images of history. It is similar
with some work of detectives, very funny. And when the statements are proved,
words become proof, conjectures become science. It is the greatest part you
know. So, the ghost story will go on, and we will do more building research in
quidi vidi. Tomorrow, my group will sketch the Ring’s house- so cute and tidy
house is waiting for us. Come on! <o:p></o:p></div>
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(All of the pictures above were shot by Wang Xuan)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09466717797583043682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-64213993422552694322013-09-17T18:36:00.000-07:002013-09-17T18:36:00.025-07:00In which I wander away from the group and learn a valuable lesson Yesterday, Xuan and I separated ourselves from the rest of our class as we all walked through Quidi Vidi with Ed, discussing architecture and history. And we are not the first to slip away during our time here, sometimes from the classroom in the Plantation, other times during various group excursions into the community. Were this a traditional classroom, there would not have even been an occasion for the two of us to decide to stay behind, but the opportunity to continue chatting with Walter, a ninety-year old resident who was out enjoying a sunny September day, was too much to pass up. Fortunately, field school works a little differently from other classes and here, flexibility is essential. <br /><br />As someone who enjoys order and structure in her life, I have sometimes struggled with the “fly by the seat of your pants” aspect of fieldwork. However, since arriving in Quidi Vidi, I have learned the value of being able to adapt to the situation, taking advantage of unexpected opportunities that simply cannot be anticipated or modifying a planned activity in order to accommodate someone’s changed schedule or the always variable Newfoundland weather. <br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="height: 260px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; width: 405px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBU2Yyofg9Ad3wMlVKw_l4QWEyGoU0xMae7tihn9qPXa8vs81wVg1XStx03dkuLyDHl0pkh6NP_ks_KqqftE1MXQCVI4J74_LlRKYehqJSNKMLx9vFQILiFrEi21jItXX7podEK4aHBs/s1600/DSC_0044.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBU2Yyofg9Ad3wMlVKw_l4QWEyGoU0xMae7tihn9qPXa8vs81wVg1XStx03dkuLyDHl0pkh6NP_ks_KqqftE1MXQCVI4J74_LlRKYehqJSNKMLx9vFQILiFrEi21jItXX7podEK4aHBs/s320/DSC_0044.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Learning the tangible: Christine, Xuan, and Kayla measure the Mallard Cottage while Ed draws the plan. Photo by Kari Sawden</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I am in no way advocating that we throw away our agendas and leap blindly into whatever situation appears. For along with the many tangible skills I am acquiring here, like how to set up and record interviews and how to draw buildings, I am also continuing to hone my ability to balance preparation with flexibility, to recognise when I need to step back and when I need to just go with it. There is a place for research, but it can only take you so far and there are some things that you simply cannot anticipate. Sometimes things will work out, sometimes they won’t, but there is always something to be learned from the experience. <br /><br />So while Xuan and I missed out on the opportunity to listen to Ed, we knew that he would be here for the rest of the week, and we adapted to the new situation. In stepping away from the group, we got the chance to talk with and, more importantly, listen to someone who has seen Quidi Vidi grow and change through the years. We got to be teased with exaggerated (I hope) stories of the amount of snow that falls here in winter, to meet his friend, to talk about our fieldwork and experiences in the community, and to gain further insight into life in Quidi Vidi and Newfoundland.<br />
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<br /><i>(I think it's rather impressive we get anything done, being surrounded by such views.</i>)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0B-_wvWz1xN1sz6y7qyQ3Wrcfz4QqtHUm_BuhRW7dKrUutM-hdYOkssA3WFcpUyu9rviQF_vngxNzlSnuulVT47OdZpdXFHJvv8awi38ap6Pl8YsU2KTevlIxD6XkVQJvxlAALGPpYuM/s1600/DSC_0044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0B-_wvWz1xN1sz6y7qyQ3Wrcfz4QqtHUm_BuhRW7dKrUutM-hdYOkssA3WFcpUyu9rviQF_vngxNzlSnuulVT47OdZpdXFHJvv8awi38ap6Pl8YsU2KTevlIxD6XkVQJvxlAALGPpYuM/s320/DSC_0044.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking toward the Plantation. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpMkNIBEkZnXUEz_VOvo-HB1GUVxFyJwlwiLrmJSd9Nl9dCxE34xVZNm4iLy5tP7HXlJ4zbLiE5d0Ap_XrEMLgbnt6veZi-7hj_RF9zyTYM1-WuCHSyUCQ9Zr9UpoB-nkdZRKgpjhNFTs/s1600/DSC_0103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpMkNIBEkZnXUEz_VOvo-HB1GUVxFyJwlwiLrmJSd9Nl9dCxE34xVZNm4iLy5tP7HXlJ4zbLiE5d0Ap_XrEMLgbnt6veZi-7hj_RF9zyTYM1-WuCHSyUCQ9Zr9UpoB-nkdZRKgpjhNFTs/s320/DSC_0103.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beyond the harbour. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmepBGweDw6P9FV1HuH7RO8BDsKetNGnYwqYXv80FZQdyKyywhRiZg9uCoqMDQumzhNKALK_yUigCauZTINhNLKlIUoipphF-Ap07bAGlQYzn-SKMHcZahQk5fp9MAgpvCWo5rT-KmrTA/s1600/DSC_0116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmepBGweDw6P9FV1HuH7RO8BDsKetNGnYwqYXv80FZQdyKyywhRiZg9uCoqMDQumzhNKALK_yUigCauZTINhNLKlIUoipphF-Ap07bAGlQYzn-SKMHcZahQk5fp9MAgpvCWo5rT-KmrTA/s320/DSC_0116.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quidi Vidi. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14930205677906748761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-27587174748414780622013-09-17T03:46:00.001-07:002013-09-23T06:18:51.234-07:00Buildings, Memories, and TraditionOn Monday afternoon, Anne Barnes chatted with John LaDuke and I about how Quidi Vidi has changed over the years. One site across from her house has gone from fish plant to restaurant to vacant building. Another has become the Quidi Vidi Village Plantation building, where field school classes take place and tourists seem to flow constantly in and out throughout the day as they explore the village. The number of residents is also increasing as Quidi Vidi becomes known as much for its beautiful views now as it was for its fishing industry in the past.<br />
<br />
Later that afternoon, Ed Chappell, the director of architecture and archaeology at Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia, led us on a tour of Quidi Vidi's architecture. When we arrived at the Hennebury house, which may have been built as early as 1749, we found surprisingly little physical evidence of its history. The structure of the original house remains, but vinyl siding now covers the exterior while modern walls inside mask the original exposed timber. The house's past was not lost, however, as Eric Sneilgrove was able to tell us about the house's construction prior to its renovations in great detail. The root cellar might now be part of a modern a basement, for instance, but Sneilgrove told us how this basement space used to serve as the original cellar and housing for a pony.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXxcuudNXIbAWpw3It7N0wjFs6BRtveoIW0k9WDOhgH7zFRG0d5TH_xIlfN2YKJYFOfS2pQ5akmkAKiE9abLUgRbeRqsCFYeYZqgjLJT2VB5saRVYqGj4omeKNco1SsARN1FVoT3Ck7kA/s1600/DSC_0214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXxcuudNXIbAWpw3It7N0wjFs6BRtveoIW0k9WDOhgH7zFRG0d5TH_xIlfN2YKJYFOfS2pQ5akmkAKiE9abLUgRbeRqsCFYeYZqgjLJT2VB5saRVYqGj4omeKNco1SsARN1FVoT3Ck7kA/s320/DSC_0214.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eric Sneilgrove shows us the house's original root cellar (through the blue door). Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9WeAmJaBJDzFVDTdnZvN92qovbjITie1AttaqxmaHjmsQ1TMP3_Xka_po4flziWHgLGnbV1pxCe6PQcYtbdyeHFj6QgEN0TCtY52YbaI_nB7rDgo-js7ajQlQCCY-rZWV4ccKjqY4xQ/s1600/DSC_0218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9WeAmJaBJDzFVDTdnZvN92qovbjITie1AttaqxmaHjmsQ1TMP3_Xka_po4flziWHgLGnbV1pxCe6PQcYtbdyeHFj6QgEN0TCtY52YbaI_nB7rDgo-js7ajQlQCCY-rZWV4ccKjqY4xQ/s320/DSC_0218.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed Chappell points out the details of the basement wall. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
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<br />
When we continued on our tour, we found more evidence of residents' preservation of Quidi Vidi's historic architecture. Although Mallard Cottage, another of the village's earliest buildings, no longer features solely historic architecture either, its owner is in the process of reconstructing it as faithfully as possible to its original design. Likewise, local heritage carpenter Aiden Duff is currently working on restoring his home, originally the village church. Items such as the materials and bright red paint used to construct the new church steeple might be new, but the resulting structure mirrors the original architecture of the church.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8yGVQgPuRwbiMu6wXN0u23Ui2ZpsVugwEUCbC0cMqe8d7Uc5BD0UWB_KO3jk7drSAd6lY25CUz-alx8HaWG80y5MWGWTI8SNjIjlxZVZqfdiO7ZKJnauRNZXblCjCA3GiRO3IXW-5tMI/s1600/DSC_0443.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8yGVQgPuRwbiMu6wXN0u23Ui2ZpsVugwEUCbC0cMqe8d7Uc5BD0UWB_KO3jk7drSAd6lY25CUz-alx8HaWG80y5MWGWTI8SNjIjlxZVZqfdiO7ZKJnauRNZXblCjCA3GiRO3IXW-5tMI/s320/DSC_0443.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aiden Duff's workshop (red building) and home (the church).Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
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<br />
By the end of the tour, it was apparent that although Quidi Vidi is changing in many ways, its residents are also taking steps to preserve its heritage. Whether through the memories of those who inhabit its historic structures or through the reconstruction of the buildings themselves, Quidi Vidi's history lives on alongside its new developments.Klara Nichterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00318447363777693813noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-72237626733683799262013-09-16T15:48:00.000-07:002013-09-16T15:50:06.412-07:00The Buildings of Quidi Vidi<div class="MsoNormal">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFn072VcOnfD4bbDsWLr_Y2N2f93h5S5mSlibNzQuTfpaXbpN0of7lAIouXGNjCQca0WDc81N9t8VkdLqsBu9lxC_eDCBTUzK3cVJycF4SJiatNBu2xyqXBm6F5fdsm2sYsGvn3PRyzWc/s1600/IMG_7572.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFn072VcOnfD4bbDsWLr_Y2N2f93h5S5mSlibNzQuTfpaXbpN0of7lAIouXGNjCQca0WDc81N9t8VkdLqsBu9lxC_eDCBTUzK3cVJycF4SJiatNBu2xyqXBm6F5fdsm2sYsGvn3PRyzWc/s320/IMG_7572.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christ Church (right), currently owned and being restored by heritage carpenter Aiden Duff. Duff's workshop (right) was built 10 years ago following traditional Quidi Vidi architectural styles. </td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I have a deep attraction to historic buildings, their
stories, and people’s interactions with them. I love old structures and I personally
dream of buying a dilapidated 18<sup>th</sup> or 19<sup>th</sup> century home
that I could restore to its former glory with the use of antique hand tools,
sweat, and deep contemplation. At the same time, I often find myself asking, ‘Why?’
Does an old building really possess some special importance that new structures
lack? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I reflect upon these
questions, I become increasingly aware of the ways in which others interact
with their own spaces - both old and new – and the choices they make
regarding their dwellings. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7jZXlQNjb6hVaUnWs_HFLniXJpr2TAi9d1u-U-jf3orIux7iaBbUicw1KMI_9JWPkHUfgbXWAXn4wGwPCox6TcodIkZAJKuc_H4alnfPiaiEl70NtSrvWwfxhO9eMQxkLyCg2GZ23Zpw/s1600/IMG_7416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7jZXlQNjb6hVaUnWs_HFLniXJpr2TAi9d1u-U-jf3orIux7iaBbUicw1KMI_9JWPkHUfgbXWAXn4wGwPCox6TcodIkZAJKuc_H4alnfPiaiEl70NtSrvWwfxhO9eMQxkLyCg2GZ23Zpw/s320/IMG_7416.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mallards Cottage (circa 1820-1840)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Quidi Vidi is the perfect place in which to engage with such
issues. The village is a mismatch of both historic and contemporary buildings.
It contains very old examples – one possibly dating to as early as 1749 – as
well as brand new structures and everything in between. Interestingly, however,
many of the oldest buildings contain few traces of their former selves. Their
wooden siding has, in some examples, been replaced with vinyl. Original windows
have been swapped out for more efficient variations, and exposed timbers
covered over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the same time,
there are multiple new buildings that were constructed to reflect traditional
styles. Some are even built as replicas of buildings that are now gone. Furthermore,
two of the community’s oldest structures – Christ Church and Mallard Cottage –
are currently undergoing careful restoration aimed at maintaining their
historic appearances. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGNj_oO-70j7YkTR0R2DaBGt0DUqr9dZHSI0b4dEleml97Xpno-MhOTbiLIB48ND48V-qjfkbZqEo4xekGegKXBWQvHXohWZ0nvDnHmIwgqkjD8fuPe9ayrHf9b_k5gner3z5Face7Qis/s1600/IMG_7576.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGNj_oO-70j7YkTR0R2DaBGt0DUqr9dZHSI0b4dEleml97Xpno-MhOTbiLIB48ND48V-qjfkbZqEo4xekGegKXBWQvHXohWZ0nvDnHmIwgqkjD8fuPe9ayrHf9b_k5gner3z5Face7Qis/s320/IMG_7576.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A modern looking house with surprisingly old roots. This building may have been built in 1749 as a military hospital. </td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Fortunately for me, two of the central themes of the Quidi
Vidi field school include people’s use of built spaces, and changes to
structures over time. As such, I will have the opportunity to further address
such themes. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, the
architectural component of the field school kicked off with the arrival of Ed
Chappell, the director of architecture and archaeology at Colonial Williamsburg
in Virginia. For the next week we will be lucky enough to have him teach us
about the importance of buildings, their uses, and the ways in which they change
or stay the same. I keenly look forward to the opportunity to explore Quidi
Vidi’s vernacular architecture, hear what other people find to be important,
and explore the various ways in which the residents of the village use their
spaces. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11239513939890040430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-17825600056018815242013-09-15T08:15:00.001-07:002013-09-15T08:15:54.008-07:00Photos From My Wanderings: A Guest Post by Lisa<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSqnlJzknynYUy3gtwABvv3sFZOqU5x5FKHX7XIjBzowUNJLLEWrunFXRhVtdocgpsCRzvsLhXkOBGc5JykAK9AX7ULN5T_Ya_qJKD608sZxmr2YqfgxVigegibT85ZX7LThq6hI_4oINg/s1600/qv+staging+the+interview+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSqnlJzknynYUy3gtwABvv3sFZOqU5x5FKHX7XIjBzowUNJLLEWrunFXRhVtdocgpsCRzvsLhXkOBGc5JykAK9AX7ULN5T_Ya_qJKD608sZxmr2YqfgxVigegibT85ZX7LThq6hI_4oINg/s400/qv+staging+the+interview+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dr. Pocius and Guha Shankar (guest lecturer) prepare the equipment for our staged interview with China Snow. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipV4ADvnMOkLDNeFhAcbpLUGWxUjq5gNCl3qqo3bZKy72YqvJUpco6k46RH1qEuLsbPWrX-15TSB2HmhgxEVjPiBZ9vWOjEfJQw_yJX6L83QMRlIP_amAC0WhI-ZwakeGFwlU0Y4Lh0zv4/s1600/qv+staged+interview+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipV4ADvnMOkLDNeFhAcbpLUGWxUjq5gNCl3qqo3bZKy72YqvJUpco6k46RH1qEuLsbPWrX-15TSB2HmhgxEVjPiBZ9vWOjEfJQw_yJX6L83QMRlIP_amAC0WhI-ZwakeGFwlU0Y4Lh0zv4/s400/qv+staged+interview+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The amazingly knowledgable China Snow engages Dr. Pocius with information around the local fishery. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZG28jq_tbx0b3MDg_NPlWqD34LmEU40-JZkYrcXf0NO6SsqrQEJ04WQ3YjeiZEnj-6MF4kE6SzaUU6D6ll0x3qbDCL4Wuhkrx-3_bLlIFKgXpHokMcgqmAnNiyHp02JpEJR6m877CDq9f/s1600/qv+lovley+peg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZG28jq_tbx0b3MDg_NPlWqD34LmEU40-JZkYrcXf0NO6SsqrQEJ04WQ3YjeiZEnj-6MF4kE6SzaUU6D6ll0x3qbDCL4Wuhkrx-3_bLlIFKgXpHokMcgqmAnNiyHp02JpEJR6m877CDq9f/s400/qv+lovley+peg.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During an oral history with Peggy, she rifles through old papers she has collected on life in QV over the years.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeOYNgjwI03MxBjy5O-d-wKecZnc22gfT8RimnLhN-8RN0_tapO8lm5evZz415IMlE2SfbCAFt50bOHNuQ5aZ23E7MBU6h7hGOMN-I3RogWbERwpKe2j47RXUlKNuwOsPuOiQSyd3g5AQ8/s1600/qv+pegs+daughter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeOYNgjwI03MxBjy5O-d-wKecZnc22gfT8RimnLhN-8RN0_tapO8lm5evZz415IMlE2SfbCAFt50bOHNuQ5aZ23E7MBU6h7hGOMN-I3RogWbERwpKe2j47RXUlKNuwOsPuOiQSyd3g5AQ8/s400/qv+pegs+daughter.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peg, now in her 90s, pulls out an old photograph of her daughter when she was just a toddler. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3MI1uPJTiuRnyKw2x_MRujWiW4peBDp7he78Cdi5SOovJFgn_00S91qNbBA6qk4EcNHmI9hZbFhzhKb5xDdY7vgC1TDuGjg9CDaCLdM6hN1wZRNut1eQTIR7l4TU9XGkgOXWstb-Yo5l/s1600/qv+familiar+faces.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3MI1uPJTiuRnyKw2x_MRujWiW4peBDp7he78Cdi5SOovJFgn_00S91qNbBA6qk4EcNHmI9hZbFhzhKb5xDdY7vgC1TDuGjg9CDaCLdM6hN1wZRNut1eQTIR7l4TU9XGkgOXWstb-Yo5l/s400/qv+familiar+faces.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Residents Greg Walsh, Eric Sneligrove and Aiden Duff take a moment to pose for a photograph.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgceDdgMZsL8caDGlW01dwHqtX1ewGtPcuTQgFmkBA1ALZ13dBNh4tn_yUCQGVYBI8IwDcmpbveD_VEnE9PDObT3yEJqEUIBdmvugShoi-t9RfkoWeYO07AZvU6PA6eKI44GOvHDJTMuAtJ/s1600/qv+a+carpenter+surveys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgceDdgMZsL8caDGlW01dwHqtX1ewGtPcuTQgFmkBA1ALZ13dBNh4tn_yUCQGVYBI8IwDcmpbveD_VEnE9PDObT3yEJqEUIBdmvugShoi-t9RfkoWeYO07AZvU6PA6eKI44GOvHDJTMuAtJ/s400/qv+a+carpenter+surveys.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aiden Duff, a heritage carpenter, stands back to reflect on his day's work.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7oMqFPflfZ60lyKpwaAWZ4u1koUMJ216X4PeD23wdVUWh2t5_JsyBaXix6i_kiLXWQhtEcMjCdRX2wINjDNfV3r9iDVrkL-_PkvlOdVFRElsdz4HGml6kAgW_iI9OBDUhswTFLSmzoDKh/s1600/qv+objects.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7oMqFPflfZ60lyKpwaAWZ4u1koUMJ216X4PeD23wdVUWh2t5_JsyBaXix6i_kiLXWQhtEcMjCdRX2wINjDNfV3r9iDVrkL-_PkvlOdVFRElsdz4HGml6kAgW_iI9OBDUhswTFLSmzoDKh/s400/qv+objects.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ignored objects in QV, found along the path behind the Sneligrove's place (known as "the lane way.") </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHvDd9NwSMTNKhfMiezN_jqMqTawIBCcvOhDavPfiXcD3BUnRzf7_0-BRvyWMqWYceZWXt-njnVy3Vz8eYjJW98N61YDbom1LvAkdlevRIYH2sixje-fgT9qzreRJWYqJjoIj-H_ROmvp/s1600/qv+trophies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHvDd9NwSMTNKhfMiezN_jqMqTawIBCcvOhDavPfiXcD3BUnRzf7_0-BRvyWMqWYceZWXt-njnVy3Vz8eYjJW98N61YDbom1LvAkdlevRIYH2sixje-fgT9qzreRJWYqJjoIj-H_ROmvp/s400/qv+trophies.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the Ring house, one can learn about the importance of displaying family achievements. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_B67yxtETpQ7d9BcvrU7NxS3_UcNnbhVng9TrWenfRvGy4glvPyHrAptQgExfq-9II2U0o-6lRjYfKv2Q1jjBy2oQJGd7fPEQh2EHZny0Ac4Ki2d-fR0AD7cqOESv-1v0Htgd9NYWKflI/s1600/qv+important+objects.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_B67yxtETpQ7d9BcvrU7NxS3_UcNnbhVng9TrWenfRvGy4glvPyHrAptQgExfq-9II2U0o-6lRjYfKv2Q1jjBy2oQJGd7fPEQh2EHZny0Ac4Ki2d-fR0AD7cqOESv-1v0Htgd9NYWKflI/s400/qv+important+objects.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The home can also be a place for demonstrating faith and nostalgia (I like the archival photograph of the Newfie Bullet on the wall). </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Sr897Wl0_nTKC3If5au8mzAO-u55RAkAFNG_SRkzPAiXAax8A_nwL7HvaG7hkxmJDjtsjF2kVlENARo47e54HwwdnALLIt95PzYsHOZFntzqhrRJl5aPOtLqPAboeMIEnS_KRTq2VYt8/s1600/qv+interiors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Sr897Wl0_nTKC3If5au8mzAO-u55RAkAFNG_SRkzPAiXAax8A_nwL7HvaG7hkxmJDjtsjF2kVlENARo47e54HwwdnALLIt95PzYsHOZFntzqhrRJl5aPOtLqPAboeMIEnS_KRTq2VYt8/s400/qv+interiors.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The brick interior of the Barnes' shed, with his important nautical-themed objects scattered about. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2w0adT_THHVFAJYfThUlkCb1g0DqbpGKbQf950DGUOE_q6XCxSzjV0Pclezm0addmjjaBdKcLgOHMSCfr4Z2DBXYsrXqffP9lLcsqT4qZuZn_frSUUxA2RNXVNFKz4blo8Kg_gNK73Gv/s1600/qv+johnny+barnes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2w0adT_THHVFAJYfThUlkCb1g0DqbpGKbQf950DGUOE_q6XCxSzjV0Pclezm0addmjjaBdKcLgOHMSCfr4Z2DBXYsrXqffP9lLcsqT4qZuZn_frSUUxA2RNXVNFKz4blo8Kg_gNK73Gv/s400/qv+johnny+barnes.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Johnny Barnes, always agreeable and willing to pose, holds up some ephemera from his personal collection.</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17193946436251007698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-43509684016402670392013-09-13T20:07:00.001-07:002013-09-13T20:07:51.809-07:00About Last Night... I knew "Screeching In" was a tradition in Newfoundland before I arrived. I was told it involved shots of rum and kissing a cod. When all of us were invited to Linda's to partake in this tradition, I thought I knew what to expected. I was not prepared.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgupotiqivV3gQTpa8CbHGXpurDDqyVQyonzC8fy3J7E9SE02MPw4TElUL4wZtuqOwgngPVOTgG4J5neQ5K8VSBW4fAB2ixTC-mvbgXJqlKNkfsmUX98x1dJSU-njAjLWdxxQaSnL8NhhQm/s1600/20130913_212438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgupotiqivV3gQTpa8CbHGXpurDDqyVQyonzC8fy3J7E9SE02MPw4TElUL4wZtuqOwgngPVOTgG4J5neQ5K8VSBW4fAB2ixTC-mvbgXJqlKNkfsmUX98x1dJSU-njAjLWdxxQaSnL8NhhQm/s1600/20130913_212438.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An improv session at Linda's</td></tr>
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The night started out normally enough. Some of us got beers, others soda. The atmosphere was calm and quiet. Then things started to get weird. Linda brought out several hats for us to wear. The hats ranged from flamboyant to odd. After this turn of events, I thought to my self;<br />
<br />
"Well, this is different, but alright".<br />
<br />
Not long after the arrival of hats, an improv band was established. Fiddle and accordion filled the inn with a festive mood. Dancing and jolly making soon followed. The "Screech In" appeared to have turned into a regular party. This appearance was shattered when Linda Brought out a tray. Resting on said tray were the following items:<br />
<br />
7 shots of screech rum.<br />
7 pieces of smoked capelin <br />
1 frozen sea bird<br />
<br />
My next thoughts after catching sight of this were in the neighborhood of;<br />
<br />
"Where the hell is this going?"<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZQnpKzcmsyV_kq53zXWHBhbQ6RRkHPUPnPnDVQKOtj4RokB9WxX_GjvrOn_PsYf1qbV_r569oL0FU8IFnHU73BK-PyoyLUra1hQ1cNbAlOzpRJztmua3rWE37gdkbQ28V9bTJRuzIwz0/s1600/20130913_213059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZQnpKzcmsyV_kq53zXWHBhbQ6RRkHPUPnPnDVQKOtj4RokB9WxX_GjvrOn_PsYf1qbV_r569oL0FU8IFnHU73BK-PyoyLUra1hQ1cNbAlOzpRJztmua3rWE37gdkbQ28V9bTJRuzIwz0/s1600/20130913_213059.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Linda prepares the ceremony</td></tr>
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This is when the true ceremony began. Some sort of oath was spoken, though I only understood half the words. All of us were then ordered to take a fish, then to rip of its tail. We were told to place the tails in our pockets. The rest of the fish was to be swallowed head first by the screechers. The only way to describe the flavor of capelin is to compare it to a giant, gooey anchovy.<br />
<br />
Next in the agenda was for each of us to kiss the butt of a long dead bird (30 years dead to be exact). Each of us took our turn placing our lips on a feathery behind. At this point I couldn't wait to finally down the screech. I needed something to sterilize my mouth. <br />
<br />
The "Screech In" ended with some final words and a shot of the infamous rum. And with that we all became honorary Newfoundlanders. It was a surreal process, one that would be hard to explain to anyone not familiar with this place. Any story that ends with "Then I kissed the butt of a bird" is sure to get some strange looks on the mainland. Newfoundland manages to somehow be horrifying and wonderful at the same. <br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220128870782672171noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-11895767079500575932013-09-13T12:43:00.000-07:002013-09-13T12:43:01.114-07:00Change and Continuity<br />It’s hard to believe we’re only five days into this field school and already it feels as though the people we are meeting have been friends for a long time. That certainly felt like the case today when Christine and I first entered Eric and Olive Snelgrove’s home. When we met Eric on Monday, Christine told him about her curiosity to try cod tongues. Eric, being the hospitable and kind man he is, told us he had some frozen and that we were welcome to come by his house for lunch. We made plans to visit today (Friday). <br /><br />In Christine’s Floridian mind, this was an invitation to broaden her cultural understanding of Newfoundland’s food (and a curious food at that!). For me, having had cod tongues before and not developing any particular fondness for them, it was a chance to re-wire some of my thoughts and feelings about a province I previously felt knowledgeable about. A challenge I’ve been facing during this field school is assuming I know more than I do because I grew up in Newfoundland and spent a majority of my time as an undergraduate student puzzling my way through a minor in Newfoundland Studies. But, as Jerry continually reminds us, we are all outsiders to Quidi Vidi, and we must approach our fieldwork with this in mind. <br /><br />I remember watching a televised interview of a famous Newfoundlander (whose name escapes me), chatting about peculiarities in Newfoundland foods. Of cod tongues, he said simply, “I just can’t enjoy a food that can taste you back.” I thought of this today as we walked to the Snelgrove house. What if neither Christine nor I like them? What if we offended our gracious hosts? Questions I’m sure Christine also asked herself. From the moment we entered the door with a light-hearted chide from Olive, “why are you knocking at the door? Sure, come in!”, I knew we were in for a real and genuine treat. The table had already been set for Eric, Christine and myself, each of us having about seven to eight cod tongues. Olive said she had rolled them in flour and fried them in olive oil. After having received a nice cup of tea (complete with Carnation milk- an essential component of the perfect cup of tea, Olive, Eric and I agreed) and having doused our tongues with malt vinegar, we dug in. <div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgsIdhaMqy2Cypnj5V1PgPD5waZbom2_IrT8L8H0RBlSPKFv-5rhaDXJ-ZmzhT9fnPI7X9Lsy89g3bYM6MHlXUxOJN-OwCt7pltmA8v2hGUMQBhAzYUz71CV3evFc6Qlgu660F48hO_rId/s1600/DSC_0363.NEF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgsIdhaMqy2Cypnj5V1PgPD5waZbom2_IrT8L8H0RBlSPKFv-5rhaDXJ-ZmzhT9fnPI7X9Lsy89g3bYM6MHlXUxOJN-OwCt7pltmA8v2hGUMQBhAzYUz71CV3evFc6Qlgu660F48hO_rId/s320/DSC_0363.NEF" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Cod tongues courtesy of Eric and Olive Snelgrove<br />Photo: Kayla Carroll</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bG8_R4gL7ANvq0rczPSzBl69hJvZO5get9qXxMvU1zV8u7FjcbeT-0aTXSWDzBM9JM9XTosugONzWAkudYHeIco9ZzZwWj-ygvUdOtii_QmS-BGeyrD4pUyKat9OShiRe5_Ux-nePDDB/s1600/DSC_0375.NEF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bG8_R4gL7ANvq0rczPSzBl69hJvZO5get9qXxMvU1zV8u7FjcbeT-0aTXSWDzBM9JM9XTosugONzWAkudYHeIco9ZzZwWj-ygvUdOtii_QmS-BGeyrD4pUyKat9OShiRe5_Ux-nePDDB/s320/DSC_0375.NEF" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>My lunch. Cod tongues, tea and buttered toast.<br />Photo: Kayla Carroll</b></td></tr>
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<div>
What a treat! If you’re reading this and have even the slightest interest in trying cod tongues, get Olive Snelgrove to cook them (although, if you’re reading this, Olive, I’m sorry if I’ve just invited the world to your kitchen!). And with a couple slices of buttered toast, the leftover stir fry I brought this morning in case we had to cancel lunch plans was soon forgotten. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2GXq_7SgKHj8UQoxWJGAhy6MDHP1ZCkeIbrURpoa7vxntUgGSRXLtzqYUaNaJDj9iHflwwnDPOpDUs2sTRuwPuPTm6760kdKrjfIpg4uOPEX_tXuQ8Yeb6z8HNDeE1B25pDnKFEvWH_QU/s1600/DSC_0367.NEF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2GXq_7SgKHj8UQoxWJGAhy6MDHP1ZCkeIbrURpoa7vxntUgGSRXLtzqYUaNaJDj9iHflwwnDPOpDUs2sTRuwPuPTm6760kdKrjfIpg4uOPEX_tXuQ8Yeb6z8HNDeE1B25pDnKFEvWH_QU/s320/DSC_0367.NEF" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Christine with her first Newfoundland cod tongue<br />Photo: Kayla Carroll</b></td></tr>
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<div>
<br />An even greater treat today was the opportunity to hear from Eric and Olive about their experience growing up in Quidi Vidi. They’ve been married 57 years and have three daughters (and a lot of grandchildren and great-grandchildren whose pictures decorate the walls and coffee tables in their home). They showed us some great photographs and pointed out different people and buildings. We also chatted with their granddaughter, Lisa, who also grew up here and loves this place. I, for one, could have skipped class for the rest of the afternoon and chatted with them all day about their memories. This, of course, is an important part of why we are here in the first place- to learn as much as we can about the traditions and ways of life, both past and present. <br /><br />A central focus of this field school is to collect these memories from the people of Quidi Vidi and make them available to future researchers down the road. But another focus that is often tempting to forget about is the continuity of many traditions here. Because as Eric aptly pointed out this afternoon when discussing things that have indeed changed in Quidi Vidi, “there is a lot that has changed here, but there’s also a lot that’s stayed the same.” <br /><br />If Christine and I went back in time and visited the Snelgroves 57 years ago when they were first married, we likely wouldn’t have been in Quidi Vidi primarily as researchers. Likewise, we probably wouldn’t have chatted to Lisa about visiting Florida with her young son. And we certainly wouldn’t have had the NTV mid-day news broadcast playing behind us. Those changes are easy to measure. But I suspect we would have been made to feel just as welcomed and as cared for as we did today. <br /><br />How’s that for continuity? <br /><br />Kayla Carroll </div>
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Kayla Carrollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07936260167935337903noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-43275787058607099362013-09-12T19:17:00.000-07:002013-09-12T19:17:33.430-07:00The Circle of Life<div class="MsoNormal">
Today is September, 12<sup>th</sup>, the fourth day in field
school. Even though I have been educated and practiced how to do field work in
my hometown, China, everything in quidi vidi is so different for me. I believe
that through these days’ exercises, I can do investigation and research more
skilfully.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Atlantic Ocean Towards the View of Spear Shore</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
This is my first time to do field work in a totally different
situation. You know, I do research in Tibet or Inner Mongolia, I need translation
actually, but I never feel uncertain like this. Because they are Asian and I
have some familiar friends accompanying with me. However, in Quidi Vidi, it’s
wholesome starting point and challenge to me. Meanwhile, I feel strong because
all your dependable partners with me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting in landrock. Thanks to the shoot of generous John</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
We take courses in Quidi Vidi Village Plantation. There are
some handicraft shops upstairs. I learned some interesting handicraft technics
in the interval of courses. For example, the smoked ceramics. Neither two
pieces are same. One artist is learning how to carve ice in glass in
Ireland…Too awesome. Another one is pattern copy in cloth by model and pigments.
But it is not simple as it seen. Some patterns have different colors like grape
and its leaves, so designer makes three layers of model to separate the process
of copying. Many tourists take rest in the building and always wander these
shops.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This kind of commercial method is good model to China. China
has two extreme handicraft markets. One is full of low-quality tourism products
that camouflaging handicrafts. Another is only serves high-level market and
normal people have not the chance to approach. Moreover, update of technics and
self-improvement is not enough to Chinese craftsmen. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In morning’s class, we studied how to use professional
methods to record interview, especially the recorder and microphone. I was
hounded by the doubt of microphone from the day before yesterday. It's not
micro I think. I ever cannot get the point that why we need use the big long
stick to interfere our interviewees. But in the end of the class, I got that. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my own experiences, interviewee will feel tense and not
natural even say something false when they meet the recorder or other
equipment. Actually, there are two different types of interview. First, it is
formal interview. You must take your best equipment and pursue best quality. I
think this type is similar worldwide. But second type, informal one, shows some
differences between Western and China. In China, many investigators do their
research just by producing a simulated natural talking situation. But in
Canada, even if a general talking, if you want to record, you cannot do that
secretly. Jerry told me that you must acquire people’s permits when you record
them! I think western field interview looked formal, honest and professional,
Chinese style looked natural, friendly and no interference… In class, we were
divided into 4 groups to imitate interview concentrating on a topic of
first job’s experience. I found that microphone is essential actually. As an
interviewer, I must speak louder so that the microphone can collect my voice;
after that I will not influence the whole quality of records.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One exciting thing happened to us occasionally was that we
observed whole process of fishermen filleting cods. Cods are delicious, plus I grew up inland,
this experience is fresh to me. First, Wade Blagdon showed us the whole process
of filleting. Then, Johnny and Noel joined him. They filleted 300 pounds cods- their fishing accomplishments today. Johnny is very cool, he can
fillet one fish just in 40 seconds. I think he may be the fastest one in
village. So he had much time to show his leisure- smoking and drink cola-
reflecting his skills. That is very interesting. Noel gifted me a toothed bone
that getting out from cod’s head. It is hard like iron, they said… very
precious. I picked up videos of whole process . Totally exciting experience to
me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noel is filleting the cod from its backbone</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5zTrh1TNWXR3-PP_wh12SmTZoJ3wilelG-nb6fzj6fiCumz9L0Acv6utO_hXRd2jE4L96rUwyW4VoKBdXuIEe4lATcx5ETuGb8TVdQZpWHlFbVOVRoD9FgkOsxN6WcavhY5WqJTHMJiem/s1600/IMGP1744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5zTrh1TNWXR3-PP_wh12SmTZoJ3wilelG-nb6fzj6fiCumz9L0Acv6utO_hXRd2jE4L96rUwyW4VoKBdXuIEe4lATcx5ETuGb8TVdQZpWHlFbVOVRoD9FgkOsxN6WcavhY5WqJTHMJiem/s1600/IMGP1744.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">|Johnny is sharpening the fillet knife</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wade is separating the skin and meat skillfully</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEZBVPn6iYoWWP6IMECANWP4aMwrxnDUnnqYOkqL4kP83ydLkwab9fDwsbC-FGdope_mw-X1cYtvqJ8TI8YPy9-PGMl9yaHjoVHrPIBqvIICtAeBgA2zi68Oat5G7rrdhUhg7yeqcMbST/s1600/IMGP1737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEZBVPn6iYoWWP6IMECANWP4aMwrxnDUnnqYOkqL4kP83ydLkwab9fDwsbC-FGdope_mw-X1cYtvqJ8TI8YPy9-PGMl9yaHjoVHrPIBqvIICtAeBgA2zi68Oat5G7rrdhUhg7yeqcMbST/s1600/IMGP1737.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"> Enjoying leisure in labor- cool beer<br /></td></tr>
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They only kept liver, lower jaw (very tasty), and the meat
that scraped bones in bucket. The bones, head and visera all were thrown in
lake directly. Something magic is that the head and bones connected very
completely. It’s part of skills to fisherman. Specifically, there is a perfect
biological chain in the process. When the fishermen throw out the useless parts
of cod in the lake, you can find that so many sea gulls are waiting for to eat
them… The circle of life conducts. So harmonious. Quidi vidi and its fishing economy
are so expressive to me. I think I will learn more in the period of field school.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea gull is rushing into water surface to eat the abandoned fish</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_5ySZ6j_MQLRrXWY3IcQxRItuM-i1MTyOwux2Plp4OHtOf-Ug3VtzH-EzrZ_-cNuwMZ07z9R4SAjgG_AL_ObERq25CVuZYUEhZMjwZgj5R6ty0gqxLi4vgSsKQsu5c6d1lN3Ct_nTPPxH/s1600/IMGP1870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_5ySZ6j_MQLRrXWY3IcQxRItuM-i1MTyOwux2Plp4OHtOf-Ug3VtzH-EzrZ_-cNuwMZ07z9R4SAjgG_AL_ObERq25CVuZYUEhZMjwZgj5R6ty0gqxLi4vgSsKQsu5c6d1lN3Ct_nTPPxH/s1600/IMGP1870.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I get it! Tasty!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pro. Pocius & students are observing and communicating with fishermen</td></tr>
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(All of the photos are captured by Wang Xuan except the second one)</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09466717797583043682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-65723828435870963712013-09-12T06:39:00.002-07:002013-09-12T19:16:52.813-07:00The Importance of DetailsI tend to be a big-picture sort of person in many ways. When making plans with friends, I am content to arrange a time frame and work out what we'll be doing once everyone has arrived rather than establish a real schedule for the evening. When considering what to write, I can quickly come up with essay topics and plot ideas, but narrowing down the focus of the essay and mapping out the development of the story take time. Until Wednesday, photography was no exception to this trend. I had always relied on point-and-shoot cameras and smartphones to capture the scenes I found intriguing. Often these images were attractive landscapes or busy streets, the kind of large, relatively simple subjects that could be documented and shared without suffering for the lack of sharp, small details. <br />
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As we spent the day learning to use more sophisticated cameras under the expert guidance of photographer Brian Ricks, I began to discover the world the beyond my big-picture, point-and-shoot approach to photography. At first, it seemed overwhelming. There are formats other than JPEG? I need to adjust how many settings before I can take the picture? After some practice, however, the camera began to seem downright magical, the possibilities intoxicating. Suddenly, I could photograph high-up objects so clearly that it seemed I'd been standing right next to them. I could light up a dark room just by pressing a few buttons, and I didn't even have to use the flash! <br />
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Once we had practiced enough to get comfortable with our cameras, we set out into the field. The emphasis on consideration and detail when taking photographs now shifted from learning how to handle the camera to using it to document our surroundings. We had been recording the large subjects we encountered, such as boats, scenery, and buildings; today we focused on smaller but equally distinctive and important aspects of the community. As residents generously welcomed us into their homes, I found that seemingly ordinary spaces and the plethora of small things within them became every bit as captivating and rewarding to capture as a sweeping sea view. The house we visited was a treasure trove of decorations and family memorabilia. Linda's Inn of Olde transformed from a single collection of curiosities to a more complex assortment of distinctive individual items. The yard where we finished our day became not just a pleasant part of the house's property, but a gathering of nautical and everyday items crafted into a kind of garden art gallery that perfectly encompassed the unique character of this place.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBUxnEB7gSFQoVDByj8N_kRZQsEMghMmctY-XJhfiYTsp6auKyivcv-meW5zHy8Az68Ku_UQ2VTRHy-juEQAWIMTZvn94DKoFjFoRhNHzX1vMy404tARkZ3L3E99v1TCj4XIyf4C2H6s/s1600/DSC_0040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBUxnEB7gSFQoVDByj8N_kRZQsEMghMmctY-XJhfiYTsp6auKyivcv-meW5zHy8Az68Ku_UQ2VTRHy-juEQAWIMTZvn94DKoFjFoRhNHzX1vMy404tARkZ3L3E99v1TCj4XIyf4C2H6s/s320/DSC_0040.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Statues and decorative stones in the window of Claude Ring's kitchen. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_g8thPuFTBsqOTy8vUeG3lNing0lbkIBdW7B8b0_5rYT1Megd0HAmyfCo83YnxhmT1evqdq2Xp7b-HQo27SDf4j9V7yQubJp42HnXZ0OkwUqDvWPGLSH_1VvkpdRoiyCjHJgneQEzOU/s1600/DSC_0276.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_g8thPuFTBsqOTy8vUeG3lNing0lbkIBdW7B8b0_5rYT1Megd0HAmyfCo83YnxhmT1evqdq2Xp7b-HQo27SDf4j9V7yQubJp42HnXZ0OkwUqDvWPGLSH_1VvkpdRoiyCjHJgneQEzOU/s320/DSC_0276.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sign and various items on the piano in Linda's Inn of Olde. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv1OJdtv4UbC2zAh0byOqjQ0zgouRYJaN1EwSPBQfCm6H8C5gK7ZsbR4CiCxDd61-F5izZJiWD25gtXyTPdL4lDPvjBd9Z6ud4Hfo5B910ik4gH-iEcoTwjqKhChepp-VvYVcXC940xRM/s1600/DSC_0117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv1OJdtv4UbC2zAh0byOqjQ0zgouRYJaN1EwSPBQfCm6H8C5gK7ZsbR4CiCxDd61-F5izZJiWD25gtXyTPdL4lDPvjBd9Z6ud4Hfo5B910ik4gH-iEcoTwjqKhChepp-VvYVcXC940xRM/s320/DSC_0117.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Johnny Barnes shows us a rock decoration inside one of the sheds in his and Anne Barnes' yard. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgea5Psz6TRP86AFeTA66OCnHraovvWCcj235JwUepJDJfkgnxwa1MEO-nr1tauxQDE41VcDjLyDzZ6kteV998yrQ3Qv0C9Lt7OJUrntSc8DMggsXETWlhyphenhyphencthgqj-LPPz4-iec9wpxYKc/s1600/DSC_0148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgea5Psz6TRP86AFeTA66OCnHraovvWCcj235JwUepJDJfkgnxwa1MEO-nr1tauxQDE41VcDjLyDzZ6kteV998yrQ3Qv0C9Lt7OJUrntSc8DMggsXETWlhyphenhyphencthgqj-LPPz4-iec9wpxYKc/s320/DSC_0148.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Statues, bell, and recycled items inside the same shed. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXSy1p1KeiiT5AUoS1iuXv2FaYv0ck3J5AwExG8j_HHjX8cev3r_8Sy5W_ShA6NpWvvoQujtK6iRRpLvOcSgplaNHxARgAkYhV4fTRuOLkSfcn0LUsZ9-r6MsLlVr78t3wIioeKmq8OU/s1600/DSC_0176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXSy1p1KeiiT5AUoS1iuXv2FaYv0ck3J5AwExG8j_HHjX8cev3r_8Sy5W_ShA6NpWvvoQujtK6iRRpLvOcSgplaNHxARgAkYhV4fTRuOLkSfcn0LUsZ9-r6MsLlVr78t3wIioeKmq8OU/s320/DSC_0176.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moon decoration on a tree in Johnny and Anne Barnes' yard. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQQnTwQppo2hwv3RLNFe3YAVtXDm6ecmPCtB1Z8WMPqt5H-rDJhqKuoyzBItqnt16GaI1CMOhzz43i9fUI8IDM2rn8DZRhnTf8mTYPec59GFmTUB7MdRi5-aOUiMiPmVi0eFY2xX_nfY/s1600/DSC_0190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQQnTwQppo2hwv3RLNFe3YAVtXDm6ecmPCtB1Z8WMPqt5H-rDJhqKuoyzBItqnt16GaI1CMOhzz43i9fUI8IDM2rn8DZRhnTf8mTYPec59GFmTUB7MdRi5-aOUiMiPmVi0eFY2xX_nfY/s320/DSC_0190.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Johnny and Anne Barnes' dog relaxes near the additional sheds in his yard. Photo by Klara Nichter.</td></tr>
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Spending the day concentrating on these small things gave me a new appreciation for the importance of details and, ultimately, folklore. While it is true that the views of boats and the sea beyond are an important part of Quidi Vidi's distinct character, so too are the many everyday things that the village's residents add to this broader landscape. The items with which people populate their living spaces are clearly chosen and looked after with great care, and each collection reflects the distinct personality and lifestyle of its owners. Looking back over my photographs from the day, I began to consider how important it is to take time when observing my surroundings and notice the details within the bigger picture. Studying details such as the items in peoples' homes offers insight into the community that geography and history alone cannot provide; folklore is essential if one wants to understand more fully.Klara Nichterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00318447363777693813noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3542336595606505365.post-16372693991154555702013-09-11T19:58:00.000-07:002013-09-11T19:58:09.845-07:00Telling Stories<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; height: 258px; text-align: right; width: 372px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisHLEZzWrlXkqzBqAjoNzthI6y2QaQiNPTiFDdFnekHufhmJQm0_FuNDSV8gINBDMRqh7aXukrpbwwD3WiitUcHpXIjIUB2uCDrWpBPRVg-bwpfcXl0ch3yfrSyOp5LaqXe4IYbvqd0r4/s1600/DSC_0141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisHLEZzWrlXkqzBqAjoNzthI6y2QaQiNPTiFDdFnekHufhmJQm0_FuNDSV8gINBDMRqh7aXukrpbwwD3WiitUcHpXIjIUB2uCDrWpBPRVg-bwpfcXl0ch3yfrSyOp5LaqXe4IYbvqd0r4/s320/DSC_0141.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right to left: Brian Ricks, Johnny Barnes, and Wang Xuan in Johnny's back yard. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
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As someone who has always been perfectly, utterly, and completely content with her tiny Fuji digital camera in all its JPEG glory, the promise of today’s training session with photographer Brian Ricks filled me with equal parts excitement and trepidation. However, this post is not about his patient explanations of ISO settings and the rule of thirds, nor is it about the wonderful people who welcomed this group of strangers into their spaces so that we could develop our photography skills – no, this post is about a saying that has been with me all day: <br /><br /> A picture is worth a thousand words. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTDvAu-Qeh57GGdAHUNXqV6t8pr9F-sJynhbe7pju3dDAwaVoKIrWFEQizoCRKAv5ezVbJz3TJEA1i8km-QL-7fI1WBxY2i_3svy4pt81ACYH5dOEp8j4k5NALGV22V9shQvt6RFjJCag/s1600/DSC_0100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<br />When I first began my university studies, it was as an English Literature major. I cherished the privilege of being able to daily immerse myself in stories and being challenged to explore not only what the text said but how it was crafted. Yet I couldn’t help but wonder about the stories that existed outside of the literary canon and off of the written page. So, eventually, I found myself in folklore studies, where I continue to learn how to read buildings and objects, to explore the stories in people’s own words as well as their actions, and where the written form is only one of so very many types of expression. And it has made me wary of comparisons between pictures and words. <br /><br />In returning to this phrase throughout the day, I became far less concerned with discovering this elusive pixel to word ratio than with the very idea of equating one form of communication with another. I have seen photos that are beyond the capacity of language to express. There simply are not enough words, they are not fine enough, expressive enough, to capture that singular moment. Conversely, the poetry of photography cannot capture the texture of a well-crafted word in relation to the ones that come before and after, how they can tickle your mind, or how you can carry them with you as though they had actual weight. Each form, and the diversity within each, is equal, valuable, and essential, but not interchangeable. <br /><br />Today, by taking pictures throughout Quidi Vidi and reviewing these photos with my classmates and teachers, I learned about the worth of the photograph, not in comparison to any other form of communication, but completely in its own right. I learned that photos remind us that it is always worth it to look past the exterior… <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTDvAu-Qeh57GGdAHUNXqV6t8pr9F-sJynhbe7pju3dDAwaVoKIrWFEQizoCRKAv5ezVbJz3TJEA1i8km-QL-7fI1WBxY2i_3svy4pt81ACYH5dOEp8j4k5NALGV22V9shQvt6RFjJCag/s1600/DSC_0100.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTDvAu-Qeh57GGdAHUNXqV6t8pr9F-sJynhbe7pju3dDAwaVoKIrWFEQizoCRKAv5ezVbJz3TJEA1i8km-QL-7fI1WBxY2i_3svy4pt81ACYH5dOEp8j4k5NALGV22V9shQvt6RFjJCag/s320/DSC_0100.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beer bottle in kettle in Johnny and Anne Barnes' backyard. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciq7GzYoEiJI17TVjrUe11yra5WwK-EXM9Xa5sixdmGEu6VMSkUymNekuurmZdh1feAeXtnVhlEkn2Ck4_CZ5fnytT7QdwguqCMZeUQNGSqi11hT4BeiQzyDc5upVRpaXsE50USCNO3k/s1600/DSC_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
That there is glorious complexity in everyday life… <br /> <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0pQsPxgWcBuVTuZ-9supANdGv1TYnXoUaIYSVHjYcLtHG-r-NF0TyroOpvKDIMJToALPYHBy_v8uLT3Z5Qm8ehYRYxao78pvTJMnIkn7WaE4FLiM8yPJPms_U0gjRz3y0zKahnpKxV8U/s1600/DSC_0150.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0pQsPxgWcBuVTuZ-9supANdGv1TYnXoUaIYSVHjYcLtHG-r-NF0TyroOpvKDIMJToALPYHBy_v8uLT3Z5Qm8ehYRYxao78pvTJMnIkn7WaE4FLiM8yPJPms_U0gjRz3y0zKahnpKxV8U/s320/DSC_0150.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside Johnny Barnes' shed. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
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</div>
And that there are always more stories to come… <br /> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciq7GzYoEiJI17TVjrUe11yra5WwK-EXM9Xa5sixdmGEu6VMSkUymNekuurmZdh1feAeXtnVhlEkn2Ck4_CZ5fnytT7QdwguqCMZeUQNGSqi11hT4BeiQzyDc5upVRpaXsE50USCNO3k/s1600/DSC_0003.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciq7GzYoEiJI17TVjrUe11yra5WwK-EXM9Xa5sixdmGEu6VMSkUymNekuurmZdh1feAeXtnVhlEkn2Ck4_CZ5fnytT7QdwguqCMZeUQNGSqi11hT4BeiQzyDc5upVRpaXsE50USCNO3k/s320/DSC_0003.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tourists in Quidi Vidi. Photo by Kari Sawden.</td></tr>
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