There are a few things I've come to expect at my door from time to time.
These include census takers, Girl Guides and kindly neighbours reminding me when I haven't closed the garage door.
I was not anticipating the Japanese film crew that arrived earlier this month to make a documentary about life on the Fraser River.
I was cooking dinner in the tiny galley kitchen of our floating home when my husband announced their arrival. More specifically, I was slicing onions. And crying about it, too, as the onion vapours wafted from the cutting board into my eyes.
"Hey, honey - these guys are here filming a documentary and wondered if they could come in and ask us a few questions. Maybe interview us about living on the river?" Well, I guess that would be OK. We ushered them into our living room, where they produced a letter from the Canadian Tourism
Commission introducing "World Travel Journey Along the Water," a three-part program to be aired nationwide in Japan during October and December 2014, and February 2015.
The letter asked our co-operation for filming, and noted "the exposure will result in increased awareness of Canadian tourism experiences among a Japanese audience." So polite were our guests that I only briefly considered putting on a recorded episode of Whale Wars and wearing my Sea Shepherd Society baseball cap for the interview. This was not the time to make a political statement - especially if I was going to convince them I should have a cooking show in Japan.
They were most curious about how our home, which is supported by several feet of Styrofoam, moves in stormy weather; how it is connected to gas and electricity lines; and how our little dog manages in a house with no yard. And they also wanted to know what I was cooking, and asked me to explain exactly what I was slicing and dicing, including the title of the recipe I was following. Bingo.
I've been a writer for 25 years, but my familiarity with a film audience is limited to that time I accidentally walked behind Global's Mark Madryga while he was filming a B.C. Hydro PowerSmart commercial.
"Well, this is called Baked Cheesy Delight and it's a delicious mix of hamburger, onions, various cheeses and tomato sauce," I stammered through my onion tears. It went on this way for several minutes - me weeping and talking - before the director suggested we give them a tour of our home, and finish with an interview on the couch - far from the meal I was still creating in the kitchen. Didn't they want me to plate it for them, as they say in the biz?
Apparently not, because no sooner had we completed our living room interview when one of our neighbours appeared in his small boat to move a work barge next to our house. Our filmmakers' eyes lit up at the possibility of a ride-a-long, and no sooner had they zipped up their lifejackets than they were gone, my Baked Cheesy Delight bubbling all alone in the oven.
It seemed like my hopes of having a Japanese cooking show sailed away with them.
*** This is the last column you'll have from me for a while as I embark on a new chapter in my life. I'm going back to university, and between that, working full time and my new Japanese cooking show, I won't have time to put together my thoughts for a proper column. I've enjoyed connecting with you, readers, and maybe one day you'll let me return.
