Yesterday was a busy day, but in a very good way. There were 2 parts to it, my convocation at York, and the Toronto film fest, Toronto After Dark. One of them was too long, boring and inhumane, and the other was fun, and entertaining. Following is a short story of the inhumane part of yesterday:
I was up early at about 6:55, got ready and we left to pick up
Veena and
Sreng at 8. After that we headed down to York, where the ceremony started at 1030. They wanted me there 2 hours early, so that I could stand in a line...
Opps, I mean in lines.
HOW MANY LINES?The first line was to pay for my robe. $50.00 bucks, and they
weren’t going to give that back, they called it a ‘rental fee’
, um...okay. Then the next line was longer, much much longer. Both lines were in a hallway to school, and there were no dividers, or arrows for which way to line up. I ended up in the middle of the second line, cutting in without even knowing it (it was a mess of people). The line was a large spiral, no exaggeration. I saw Patryc
ja after a while, and she budded in with me (pregnant women get whatever they want in my book). Finally, we reached the end of the second line, and then joined the start of the third line, to pick up the robes. Short line, and we went to Vari h
all, which was behind a veil. I joined a forth line/mess of people, in order to get a number. I got 722. The number turned out to be my reserved spot in a fifth line. I crossed the veil entrance to Vari H
all, in order to get in line. What did I find? About 1000 people standing...in a line. I asked a girl if she was in line, and she said she was. She was number 1000 something, and said to head into the core of the line. So, I started pushing my way through, burrowing deep into the heart of this final line made up of graduates. I found the 700’s line, and found my place in front of 723, thankfully. There we stood for another half hour or so, and tried to figure out how to put the sash on properly. Finally, a voice from the floor above shouted at us to “get in line” and
showed us how to do the sash. We all didn’t fit i
nto this hall now (which is really just the entrance to York), and people in the higher numbers were overflowing outside.
INTO THE TENTFinally, after being in this hot and smelly mess, we stated to move, row by row. We walked outside, in the cold (which was refreshing after all we had been through), and made our way to the extra large tent York had set up for us. We filtered in, passing families in friends, all packed together. I knew that my mom, dad, and Veena and Sren
g were som
ewhere in there. I started to think it was a bad idea to come. But, it was nice to be free, walking freely after being stuck for so long in lines. That was when the real and true horrors of the morning began.
Row by row, we were squeezed into bleachers, thigh to thigh, knees to back. There was no leg room, no room to even move your head for fear of knocking off your hat. Facing us was the crowed, probably thousands of people staring at us, and a camera shooting us to place our faces on the big screen above. And then there were the lights, the hot hot lights shining on us. An angel was looking out for me, because Patrycja ended
up being seated right behind me, the ODDS!
The ceremony began, and there we sat. Rumours started flying that the ceremony would be three hours, people started flipping through the book of names.....so many names, it got hotter, people were thirsty, hungry, everthing! Pat
rycja neede
d to pee, but how to escape this hell? Justin Timberlake sta
rted singing from the Ipod beside Pa
trycja, cell
phones started calling....people found ways to cope. I started to laugh, and joke. I said it would be over in 15 minutes, just fifteen minutes. I knew though, deep down, that it would be longer...much longer. Patrycja could
n’t hold it in anymore, an
d an excape was plann
ed. People moved from the row behind her, and she got to the top, and was able to get down from the side. Behind me the underground railroad was opened. It tempted me, time was passing, it was getting hotter, I felt faint from dehydration. I could see my friends, Sreng’s head tip
ped to the side, eyes started to close. My parents eyes followed the row of people on stage, name after name. Hurry up, hurry up. Those around me kept following the book. 8 more pages. But it couldn’t be true,
they really couldn’t keep us her
e that long. But, the names kept coming. And then it started happening. After shaking hands, some of the graduates when right instead of left. Instead of going back up to the bleachers, they when right, into the freedown of the outsid
e world. Fresh air, a cool breeze, food, water, freedom. Patrycja came back, an
d we planned our escape as well.
HOW TO GET OUT?How would could we hide carrying our jackets and her purse when going on stage? Could we really make it out? We planned, people complained. Only a few more pages now, it had been almost two hours. It was hotter now, my robe was undone, my tie losen, and the top thr
ee buttons on my shirt were undone. Water, if only I had some water! Justin Timberlake played some
more, people started conversations about nothing, with the prisoners beside them. “they are pronouncing the names wrong” “What is that big
pole they are carrying”. We watched the “d
ignitaries” shaking hands, and
smiling because they had water beside them.
We sat and sat and sat and sat. Why did I come? I want to leave and eat Sushi! How much longer! More names, never ending. We began to hate the people that stalled, even just a little. Hugging instead of shaking hands brought hatred from us towards the person. Hurry up! More people snuck off, smart people, free peop
le. Our captures made announcements: “do not leave, stay out of respect for your fellow graduates”. Respect? What did the ad
ministration know about respecting us?
Finally, the time came, and my line went. At the last minute we changed our plan, and decided to stay. Standing up hurt, my knees cramped, and I was slightly delirious from dehydration. I waited, again in another line. A line that went up the stage. I shook hands, and smiled. The air down on the stage was cool, and fresh. I was free, and it felt nice. A camera man took my picture (which York wanted to sell us, for about $30), and then I went left. Left, back up to the jail, and we once again put on our row to wait. More names, rows and rows of more names. Patrycia went and came back, but then
escaped.MY ESCAPE...foiledI then sent a text to my friend Sreng, and he called me back, he was n
ow outside with my mom and Veena, on a washroom break. I told him
I wanted to escape, to go back and tell me dad to me outside of the tent. I couldn’t take it, and I followed the p
ath the Patrycja had carved out, and made it to
the top of the bleechers. A guard came running, “you ca
n’t leave, sit down!” I didn’t, and kept
walking. “Sit back down!” “I’
m going to be sick,” lied to her, in a desperate att
empt to get out. "No sit down, we let the other girl leave because she was pregnant!” And thus my escape was foiled, and I returned to my seat, now a deserter.
More time passed, and we all counted down to the last page, then the last row, and finally, the last name! We erupted in a cheer, life flowing through our veins again. Speeches were shortened, and finally we were set free. I rejoined my group, and quickly made it outside to the fresh air. We nearly ran to the spot that I needed to hand in my robe and picked up my diploma and certification (I was scared of another line). Thankfully, I made it before any such line had formed, and we make it out.
The rest of the day was much better, more to come...
