But never fear, we managed to enjoy a little Festival in the comfort of our own home, when some friends came for a visit and brought along a bottle of caribou. I choked back one shot, but we concurred caribou just isn’t the same a) if it’s not in an ice glass and b) if you’re not actually at Festival.

Fortunately, whilst at the LC last weekend, I picked up a couple of cans of Fort Gibraltar Premium Lager (made especially by the Fort Garry Brewing Co. for FDV) so we could pretend we were in the snow bar at least once! And I’ve been checking out some awesome pictures from Festivals past from the U of M archives (I think I found this from someone on Twitter but can’t remember who – but a hat tip to you, whoever you are!).

So I’m sad to have missed out this year, but it makes me that much more excited to go next year. I’m really looking forward to taking my little guy to the fiddling and jigging competitions – I think he’ll love the music – and by that point he will be old enough to go on the big snow slide. But I’ll also be sure to plan some adult-only time going to shows and getting reacquainted with my old friends caribou and pea soup!

Hé ho — bon festival!

Decked out with our macarons and our voyageur sashes (I couldn’t find my prized Clou’Donc glove in time), we had enjoyed the live music on Provencher, checked out this year’s Festival merch (the beard t-shirts? awesome!), had a little pea soup, and taken in the fireworks (I’d never seen fireworks in the winter before – pretty neat!). Counting dogs wearing clothes along the way (Vancouver doesn’t have a total monopoly on that!) we made our way down to Garage Cafe, where we planned to catch the Johnny Cajun show. Alas, we were way too late: the place was packed and the chances of us getting a table were nil.

As we stood there, mulling over our options, our eyes were drawn to the TV tuned to the broadcast of the 2010 Games opening ceremonies. Laurel and I were oddly captivated. From there, headed to the Parc du Voyageur to check out the Snow Sports Bar, where we knew they’d be playing the ceremonies, too. The Parc was buzzing with excitement and good music rose into the night. Sure enough, the outdoor snow bar had a massive screen set up, and lots of people were watching intently or not-so-intently. Ice cups of caribou were everywhere. (We were all abstaining, for one reason or another, so no caribou or Fort Gibraltar lager for us… boo!)

After having explored all the tents and checked out some of this year’s snow sculptures, we realised we were tired and decided to head back home and see if we could catch the end of the opening ceremonies. Back home with our boots and mitts off, we caught the last hour or so of the ceremonies. Watching the elaborate and impressive show, I felt both proud and disconcerted, in a way. Proud to be Canadian, proud to have once called the host city home. Proud of our musical and literary talents and our sporting heros. Proud that Canada had the opportunity to wow the world, and didn’t fail!

But also disconcerted: the amount of money that must have been spent on this one event is staggering — with the nation’s poorest postal code just blocks away, and the devastation in Haiti still fresh in our minds, one can’t help but think of what that money could be better spent on.  And after a celebration of Canada’s diverse culture, it was hard not to notice that the Olympic flagbearers and torchlighters were all caucasian. Seeing footage of Georgian luger Nodar Kumaritashvili’s fatal accident on the news afterwards had me feeling solemn and uneasy as  I headed to bed.

Watching Gretzky travel down the streets of my old stomping ground, memories of my five years in Vancouver rushed back. For as much grumbling as locals had been doing ever since the host city was announced in July 2003, just months after I’d made the city home, it must have been an amazing night for everyone who found themselves on the streets of downtown Vancouver. Earlier this week I’d received an email from my old boss, who said that the office was really getting into the spirit of things, with theme days, prizes, and flexible work schedules to accommodate everyone. From her window, she said, she could see the zipline that had been installed over Robson Square, and they were having fun watching the aerial view of organizers testing it out. It seems that despite everyone’s worst-case thinking, the Games had actually arrived, and everything was actually pretty cool.

Something I thought would never happen, happened: I found myself thinking, “It wouldn’t be so bad to be there right now.” But I was also thinking how if I were there, I wouldn’t be here, in Winnipeg. This city that throws a half-outdoor party in the middle of winter, that celebrates the snow and cold with music and food and fun and games. And it throws this party every year!

The world’s biggest party is in Vancouver and British Columbia right now, and I’m glad I can tune in to the coverage every now and then (a Winnipegger’s gotta watch her curling!). But I wouldn’t miss the party happening in my own backyard for the world.

WO’MH-isms:

Fancy Place (from the post Roadtrippin’): A bar or pub that has more than one draught beer available. These are typically public houses in larger centres where beer drinkers enjoy selections beyond Coors Light. Ergo, if there’s only one type of beer on tap, it’s not a fancy place.

Manitoba street cred (from the post Curling): The valuating system by which new Winnipeggers (and in our cases, new Manitobans, too) are judged as integrating into the local culture. In joining a curling league, drinking slurpees in the wintertime, or apologizing to newcomers about the weather (despite the fact that you can’t control it), you raise your Manitoba street cred. You’re becoming an authentic Manitoban.

‘Pegiversary (from the post Roadtrippin’): The anniversary of a new Winnipeggers’ arrival in the city. Emma’s 1st ‘Pegiversary is quickly approaching on July 8th; for Aaron it will be January 5th, 2010; and Laurel just likes to celebrate hers on the 2nd of every month.

Social Time (a comment to the post Socials): Submitted by regular commenter, Michel, “Social Time is the acceptable time at which you should arrive at a social” and it directly correlates to the attendees’ age. The social arrival approximation scale is available in graph form, and strict adherence to these guidelines will prevent one from decreasing her or his Manitoba street cred.

Water-peg (from the post Water-peg): In the springtime, melting snow and swelling rivers transform Winnipeg into its always latent, ulterior character, Water-peg. The sidewalks are wet, the potholes are filled to the brim (and deceptively deep), and every story on CBC radio is somehow (magically?) spun to include a flooding-related angle.

Weatherpeg (a Winnipeg O’ My Heart post category): So much of Winnipeg’s mystique involves the extremes of weather at this geographic location of the continent. In this way, whenever a post includes significant content relating to the weather in Winnipeg, it will be categorized as a Weatherpeg post.

A sloppy Winnipeg Wrap

Winnipeg Wrap (from the post Wrap it Up): You know when people use lame clichés like: “If I opened the dictionary to the definition of goofball I’d see a picture of your face”? Well in this instance I will simply provide a visual example of the Winnipeg Wrap, and for a more detailed explanation you really should read all about it in the original post. Sadly (for fans of the Winnipeg Wrap), sightings of WWs around town reduce during warm seasons when it’s less likely that a Winnipegger will need an extension cord to plug-in the car while at work all day.

WO’MH-er (from the post Roadtrippin’): A Winnipegomyhearter is a member of the Winnipeg O’ My Heart blogging team. Although we haven’t yet invited guests to post their reflections about Winnipeg or Manitoba (we will), these persons would be considered honorary WO’MH-ers.

Terms unique to Winnipeg or Manitoba:

Caribou: The deliciously potent fortified wine that is intrinsically linked to the Festival du Voyageur. If you’re lucky enough to enjoy this drink at Festival, be sure to try it from an ice cup. We did. It’s a reeeeal good time.

Dainty: A small, sweet treat that is typically made in a large baking pan, then cut into squares or rectangles. In other parts of the country these are referred to as “squares”; however, in Manitoba the general term for a tray of assorted squares is “dainties”. When referencing a specific item on the tray, you should call the dainty by its appropriate name. Usage: “Just look at the fancy dainties at this bridal shower!” “I know…delish! I think I’ll have a Nanaimo bar.” A note about shape: in our limited experience, dainties are square; yet, we cannot corroborate that dainties are always square. This requires further (mmm…tasty) exploration.

Social: A traditional Manitoba fundraiser, usually held by friends (and sometimes family) of the engaged couple, meant to offset the costs of establishing a family home or farm. The social may have extended from this province into north-western Ontario and parts of Saskatchewan. “Classic” or “Traditional” socials feature a midnight buffet that always includes rye bread, cheddar cheese, and mustard (NB do not lick the knife). Some modern “Fancy” socials are catered, have professional DJs, and offer a combination of conventional auction items (the lottery tree) alongside new favourites (the spa package).

Social Table: So far as we can decipher, the rest of the country simply refers to this as a table with folding legs. These tables are aptly named according to their frequent use at socials held in community halls. The tables are rectangular in shape (probably 8’ x 3’?) and most likely either wood- or plastic-topped with folding metal legs. Usage: “I’m wondering if there’ll be enough seating at the social this Saturday.” “Oh yes, there will be. The hall provides 25 social tables.”

“LC”, the: An abbreviated slang term for the Manitoba Liquor Control Commission (MLCC). This phrase omits the “M” and last first “C” from the initialism (“LC” stands for “Liquor Commission”). Not to be confused with the initials of Lauren Conrad, star of the popular MTV show The Hills. She has probably never been to Winnipeg or Manitoba in general; what a pity. Usage: “I’m going to stop by the LC on the way home from work. Would you like anything?”

Of course this list is but the tip of an iceberg floating down the Red River following an ice jam breakup in April. Our goal is to keep the glossary updated with our own terms as well as those submitted by our readers. We surely welcome your feedback about our list and additions to what will become the Glossary of Terms Unique to Winnipeg or Manitoba. We appreciate attributions whenever they are available (in order that credit is given where due), and we also strongly discourage plagiarism. Let’s have some fun developing the glossary to define our shared Winnipeg and Manitoba experiences.

Please submit a comment to this post if you have a term to add. We are currently creating the glossary and will tweet (@winnipego) with a link once it’s up and running!

ALSO: Listen to CBC Manitoba Information Radio this upcoming Monday and Tuesday mornings (May 18 & 19, 2009) around 6:40AM (Central time) in order to hear the WO’MH blogging team in our very first discussions about blogging in Winnipeg and our distinct outlook on moving to this fair city from Vancouver. There is a link to live streaming of the broadcast on the CBC website, and we hope against all odds that our friends at Information Radio will consider podcasting these segments!

Scoring an empty table toward the back (near the pulled pork stand; more on that later), our anticipation mounts. While we wait, a somewhat senior woman kneels in to ask me where we got our coffees. I politely indicate that at Finales coffee shop you receive a discount with your Festival macaron, and that sorry I do not see a coffee stand on site. As Laurel and Emma recount the event, however, the woman disappointingly skulks off, scowling and making some funny wrist movement! Hé Ho, little lady, don’t blame me when you’ve forgotten to bring a hot caffeinated beverage along!

As the competition begins we realize that due to our position at the back, it is difficult to see the jigging feet of each dancer. Ergo, we’re standing (which in retrospect probably made us seem even more enthusiastic; “So what if we love jigging…back off!”). The Red River Jig being the competitive dance style on display, participants must dance “authentically” which basically means without any taps or clickers on their shoe soles. Many dancers compete bare-foot, or in socks, while some wear shoes, moccasins, or leather calf-length embellished boots (also moccasins?). Dancers in the age category “9 and under” lead off the competition, and stealing the show is a pair of twin brothers that are only four years old. Though dancing together, each brother receives an individual evaluation, and in the end they take home bronze and silver! Felicitations, junior jiggers!

Up next is the serious styling of the “9 to 13 years” age category…an awkward stage of life produces some fantastic dancers. He Ho, those feet can fly! Finally the last category is ambiguously referred to as “Open” which I assume means “All ages above 13″. In this category there are ten participants (compared to just three in the 9-13 age range), yet only 8 prizes to be won. While the participants dance individually, I surprise myself with very little disdain for the repetition of the Jig music. According to Audreen Hourie, a Cultural and Historical Researcher for the Métis Culture and Heritage Resource Centre, “[t]o play the Red River Jig, the Fiddle is tuned differently, the bottom string is raised from a G up to A. The Red River Jig is a special piece of fiddle music that is played and danced in two sections. When the fiddle plays the high section, the dancer does a fancy jig step.” Fancy indeed…

"No ribs for me, thanks!"

To revisit the topic of pulled pork sandwiches, the very pleasant vendors hawking those porky morsels behind us mistakenly depict pigs as cannibalistic. Case in point: their logo. Mister Pig is about to dine on the fine, tasty ribs of his cousin Hank. It is widely known, however, that when given the opportunity most pigs would prefer a salad or some other Festival treat like snow taffy, sweet caribou from an ice cup, or mini donuts. Case in point: my t-shirt (at left). Ketchup may love potatoes, Mr. Ashum, but when this little piggy went to market you can bet he didn’t come home with pork roast! Hé Ho!

Festival Observation #1: Ice scuptures=lame. Snow sculptures=awesome.

I am a believer. Normally, the thought of spending six hours outside on a February night in Winnipeg doesn’t sound like all that much fun. But add heated tents, live music, and caribou, sweet, sweet caribou, and you’re golden. I am no longer a Festival du Voyageur virgin!

We’d been warned that Boulevard (short for “Le Grand Rendezvous sur le Boulevard “) would be a blast, mixing and mingling with fellow ski-panted revellers and sipping from secret flasks. And it was! During Boulevard, a big stretch of Provencher is blocked off to cars, so it really is a giant street party. We arrived around 7pm, and hung out for a bit until the Asham Stompers took the stage. I’d heard about their amazing Metis dancing; this was one of my “must see” shows, so I’m glad we caught it.

My prize hobo ClouDonc glove!

I stood there with a smile plastered on my face and my toes uncontrollably tapping as dancers of all ages performed the Red River Jig while a wicked three piece band played. The crowd loved it, and was hilarious to hear all the clapping muffled by mitts and gloves. Other highlights of this performance were seeing Arnold “Ketchup loves potatoes” Asham live, and high-fiving Dancin’ Gabe!

Mmmmm....Snow Taffy

It was almost time for the Voyageur Park gates to open, so we drove over and parked in a closer lot. We had our Festival buttons, so skipped the lineup of at least a hundred people and walked right in.

We made our way to the Sugar Shack and while one of us waited in line for beer, the rest of us got maple syrup snow taffy. I loved it, which was surprising because I actually like Safeway-brand butter flavoured pancake syrup better than the real maple syrup. Then we enjoyed our very first Fort Gibraltar lager (the official festival beer) and listened to Venus Murphy play an awesome set.

We wandered around for a bit and at the Red River Trading Post, had our very first shots of caribou (the official festival moonshine). I had heard is described as “fortified wine cut with cognac, a little like port”.  I wasn’t even going to try it, it sounded so revolting. But I did, and guess what? It just tastes like room temperature sangria. Woo hoo! I’m a caribou convert!

Mmmmm.... Fort Gibraltar lager

Next up was the Snow Bar, where we had more caribou, this time in a cool ice cup. Spilled it all down the front of my green coat. Luckily, I had a long scarf that I pulled out from inside my coat and it strategically covered the huge red splatter. Oh well, I needed to get my coat dry-cleaned anyway! (And at least it matched my sash!)

We also played a fun game called Clou’Donc, which I won. I got to choose a prize and decided on a fingerless glove that can totally be reused for Hobo Reunion II. I’m told I must wear my Clou’Donc glove with pride to all future Festival events.

Much later, in the bathroom, I revealed my caribou misfortune to Laurel, and a girl standing near us looked at me and said sympathetically, “Oh… I’m totally that girl. Who spills stuff all over herself. But your scarf is doing a good job!”

Everything tastes better in an ice cup.

Anyway, after that things get a little blurry. We had more Fort Gibraltar beer. We listened to more music. We stared in awe some more at the mammoth snow sculptures. We met more friends of friends. We had more caribou. I’m pretty sure we closed the place down. Then we used the super-convenient Red Toque Service to get home safely.

All in all, a huge success. I have to be honest: I don’t feel so hot this morning. But I’ll be fine by tonight to go back for the Johnny Cajun show. Until last night, if anyone had asked when the best time to visit Manitoba was, I’d have said summertime (obviously).  But I think I might amend that now to say “Summertime, obviously. Or February for Festival!”

Props to Laurel  for takin’ all the pics!