The Martlet

An alien campus, an alien city, an alien island. To this Ontario expatriate, the UVic campus presents itself, at first glance, as an other-worldly entity; an alternate reality place replete with mountains, hordes of bunnies and Douglas firs. The west coast vibe somehow permeates students and faculty alike.

Perched on a bench in front of the aptly named BiblioCafe outside the McPherson library, a small waterfall gushes nearby; its soothing cadences reassure my troubled spirit. There is a sense of limitless possibilities.

Multitudes of students (most in small groups, some alone) talk, study, laugh, text. As I take in this depiction of Canadian academia, my mind treads over familiar territory. Partially submerged memories of my own university experience resurface.

I find myself lulled into a dream-like state. How simultaneously different, yet strikingly similar, is this scene of UVic in 2008 to my earlier years at the University of Toronto in the late 80’s? What vast reservoir of human potential, achievement and promise lay submerged within the throng of students mingling around the shallow, rippling pool?

What are the emotions, aspirations, dreams, goals and objectives of these students? What are the academic thoughts preoccupying those here and on campuses everywhere? University can often be a stress-laden roller coaster ride with a poorly-defined destination.

Somewhere between those extremes of success and disaster was me at U of T. With its many older, architecturally-grand and imposing buildings, its history, tradition and the sheer number of grads, U of T presents a profoundly different feel and atmosphere than UVic — yet motivations remain the same.

At university, while pursuing a diverse array of subjects, I knew I wanted to become a writer. I regret not having formulated a fully-viable plan B. Even my plan A lacked sufficient focus and direction. Just staring at the spectrum of students, I know many of the up’s and down’s these UVic’ers are experiencing.

At last readying myself for an exploratory walk through the pathways, walkways, byways, academic buildings, lecture halls, grassy expanses and wooded areas, my gaze is drawn inexorably back to that familiar, archetypal timeless scene of students milling about on campus. What kind of Canada, what kind of world, will they create?

Will some among this current crop of UVic scholars be responsible for earth-shaking, stellar achievements? Can they bring an end to poverty, hunger and war? How about a UVic student cracking the secret of warp drive, enabling us to send humans to Alpha Centauri and beyond? Maybe one will discover a way to reverse global warming.

And, reality-check time — was I, a daydreaming writer, really contributing to anything in particular?

During my jaunts through the campus, I catch glimpses of mountains in the distance. Occasionally, I lose my sense of direction as I weave my way in a random, unmapped fashion, the brilliant afternoon sun falling slowly westward in the sky, seeming brighter and more intense than it ever did in Toronto. (Due to lack of pollution haze perhaps?) Unfamiliar species of birds flit about leafy canopies. Squirrels make tentative appearances nearby — the only instance where I am not impressed by the nature here. (Toronto has an over-abundance of these pesky critters.)

Professors I talk to look the same as professors always have. Some are traditional, stuffy and old-school. Others are seemingly Green Party supporters, sort of ex-hippie flower children who could probably rock out to Janis Joplin.

As night falls on the UVic campus, a light wind arises and something foreign alights on my unaccustomed taste buds — sea salt churned up from the depths of the vast Pacific Ocean. There’s an unfamiliar dampness in the air. I listen to the plaintive wailing of gulls from somewhere overhead.

On a university campus, insulated and buffered from the outside world, one can almost be in a state of denial that the world out there even exists. Yet it does. Economic collapse, war, dire conditions in the Third World; evils and challenges remain, awaiting resolution — our resolution.

There have been countless students here before, there will be untold numbers to come. An afternoon at UVic gives a brief snapshot of the people, the culture, the promise at this university. I cannot recall the exact moment it hit me, but this lovely place has cast its spell on me.