8 Ways to Sunday

It’s just past breakfast on the second day of the conference, and I’m skipping out on a cornball-sounding morning session to make this entry. I’m a bit hung over from a night of Thai food and tequila, so forgive me if I ramble a bit…

The trip out was an interesting experience in and of itself. The food court in the international terminal of the Atlanta airport was a great place for people watching. It was surprisingly easy to pick out the foreign visitors from the Americans — subtle and not-so-subtle differences in fashion, gait, and demeanor often gave it away. That look of early-onset culture shock creeping into the eyes of the first-time visitors. A group of teens from someplace Scandinavian, where the skirts seem to tend further toward the short and frilly end of the spectrum than in the States — scandalously so for Atlanta, to be sure — drew a mixture of leers and disapproving stares. This Asian girl was wandering around the food court, dressed in a tartan skirt and a black t-shirt with the words “I am so…” on the front, with the oddest expression of combined awe and amusement on her face. I was having so much fun watching the crowd that I almost missed the second leg of my flight.

The trip through customs was easier than I’d expected, and aside from the “This bag has been searched by the TSA” slip inside my checked bag I wasn’t even given the (by now) customary hassle by U.S. airport security. Overall a very smooth flight. I’m sure I’ll make up for it with double the crap on the way home. It’s the only way to maintain the karmic balance of my historically crappy travel luck.

Toronto is a trip. The maple leaf is everywhere, with Canadians seeming to lack American’s reluctance to use their national flag on everything from clothing to semi mud flaps. The Molson brewery, passed on the bus ride to the hotel, was flying a Canadian flag at least as big as my living room. They have the queen of England on their money here, and highway numbers on road signs are in crown-shaped emblems instead of shields. I asked the woman at the hotel desk about this; she explained that, while autonomous, Canada remains a part of the Brittish Commonwealth. For an American, where monarchy is such an aversion, this is definitely something to get used to.

Toronto is an incredibly diverse, international city. The hotel is right downtown; last night after the orientation shindig, Colleen, Armando, and I made a trip down Queen St West to some assorted bars and a yummy Thai restaurant (yummy, but stingy on their satay special). Armando made me an honorary Mexican for the evening after I proved that I could hold my tequila, and I am deeply honored. This is the second time I’ve been made an honorary member of an ethnic group at an APRA conference: two years ago in D.C., Rachel Katz made me an honorary Jew after I revealed my obsessive-compulsive neurotic side. I have a card and everything. It says, “Honorary Jew: The bearer is entitled to one (1) free bar/bat mitzvah at any participating Synagogue, Shul, or Temple.” Seriously.

Time to go. I’ve got another session coming up in ten that sounds much more interesting than the one I slipped out of to write this post. I’ll keep updating, with another entry tomorrow. Till then…

Update: Lest anyone think I spent the entire day slacking, I actually did learn some good stuff today.

I attended an excellent session on macro-level data analysis presented by two members of the prospect research team at Bucknell University. They had some interesting (and very easily implemented) ideas about measuring fundraising effectiveness and research ROI. Our office has long lacked any kind of effective benchmarking or performance metrics, placing us far behind the curve from other development operations in the higher education sector. I’m looking forward to implementing some of this when I get back home, though there’s certain to be some internal political strugle over something like this unless it’s presented very carefully.