Katima-post!

Drugs.  It’s like S&M fetish parties.  If you don’t know about it, it doesn’t exist.  Unfortunately, I know that there is a certain person in the household who is enjoying a little toke now and then.  This person was outside last night at 1 am with no shirt, just “chilling” (in the snowy cold, spitting on the ground, probably clearing out their throat so they can walk back into the house like nothing happened.  The Project Leader wasn’t awake).  This situation has happened before (I was even asked if I wanted any.  I’m in a government program and I don’t want to jeopardize* myself.  Plus, alcohol is the only thing that enters my body), and I’m going to do something about it before it gets out of hand (and someone else leaves the group).

On that same note, a participant left the group last night because he was tired of group living (not because of drugs).  He left this morning and I’m sad to see him go.  It’s a shame he did not find motivation to stay in the group, but if he wasn’t happy, then he did the right thing to leave the group before it affected the group dynamic in a bad way.

Then there were 9.  7 girls, 2 guys.  The next Project Leader in Stonewall will be a girl as well.  A 4:1 ratio.  I’m not worried about it in the slightest.  I have a lot of experience in dealing with women (Hello, gay man here).  Just for a little tangent, my very first job was at a Dollarama.  I was only holiday help, but every single employee there was a female.  I fitted in nicely, even though I wasn’t out yet.  I also got my first taste of what too much estrogen does to women.  Can you say back-stabbing and gossip to the extreme? Meow.

To add even more to this Katima-post, I got an e-mail back from the Katimavik Ontario office (see Feb. 2nd in this post) about my PL (Project Leader) position and they told me that I am a great candidate for the PSO (Project Support Officer) position.  This is definitely something to consider for the future.  I will now explain what all of these Katima-things mean (because I have been writing this blog since September and I have yet to explain myself).

Katimavik is a government-funded program for Canadians between the ages of 17-21.  It lasts for 9 months.  During that time, you stay in 3 different communities for 3 months each during the program.  The program starts in either September or January (depending on when you apply).  There are communities all over Canada that have Katimavik participants living there.  Just look for a large white van with this symbol on it.  There are 11 participants in a group and 1 PL.

A PL is basically like the don of your residence floor, your supervisor, your parental unit, etc.  They get to drive you around to places, find work placements and billet families, and give you your weekly allowance ($21!).  On top of that, they do a lot of paper work, act as a social support and a leader for the group.  A PSO is someone who assists the PLs and does counselling with groups when they are in dire times (for example, when the group is falling apart, or everyone is losing the will to stay in the program).  They also travel around to schools to do presentations, run workshops with groups, and promote Katimavik.  The PSO position is my kind of job because I love public speaking and helping out others.

The reason why I called this blog Katima-what? is because when I first mention Katimavik to someone, they always say, “Katima-what?”.  Katimavik means “meeting place” in Inuktitut.  After Katimavik is done, the blog might get a name change and a makeover.  The future is a mystery.

If you ever have any questions about Katimavik, me, or anything, feel free to ask.

* = Here’s a rule in Katimavik: If you do any illegal activity of any kind, you are dismissed immediately.  Do not pass go, do not collect $200.  There has been stories of participants who got kicked out a mere 12 hours before the program was over and they did not recieve their $1000 or reference letters.  Wonder why… oh right, it’s because WE ARE IN A PROGRAM FUNDED BY THE GOVERNMENT.  Don’t screw with the system.  Save the illegal stuff for when you’re done the program and back in your tiny little town where no one gives a damn (or British Columbia).