I first spotted her on the number nine bus heading from downtown Ottawa to Hurdman Station in the east end. I had been waiting a while for the bus, and got on at the Coventry street stop. The five thirty bus showed up ten minutes late that afternoon, and after waiting in the snow for a while, I was just glad to get on the bus. The bus was packed, because that's an afternoon in wintertime Ottawa, Ontario, after all. The fact that I found myself attracted to her on sight surprised me. I've always considered myself bisexual, but lately found myself responding visually more to men than to women. Considering I led a mostly straight life even after coming out as bisexual to my family and friends, I found that somewhat alarming.
In case you're wondering who this is, the name is Stephen Watson Dorvil. A big and tall Black man who moved from the town of Kingston, Jamaica, to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, three years ago. I'm twenty seven years old, and go to the University of Ottawa, where I study in the Telfer MBA program. Although I grew up in the island of Jamaica, I wasn't born there. I was born on the nearby island of Haiti. My father Joel Dorvil is Haitian and my mother Wanda Watson is Jamaican. I consider myself a proud son of the Caribbean motherland, pure and simple. Anyhow, I noticed the curvy, thirty-something Caucasian lady. She looked at me and didn't quickly look away or look uncomfortable when I came near her the way most Ottawa folks do when they see a Black man. The Capital of Canada is a very bigoted place, ladies and gentlemen. Most of the bigots down here are quiet about it but some are blatantly in your face with it. I've had numerous bad experiences with such people in public spaces like the bus, the mall and other places where ordinary residents of Ottawa congregate. If you're Black, they're allergic to you.
Given what I've experienced in this town, I was used to certain things. It's the little things that get to you at the end of the day. I'm six-foot-one and weigh two hundred and forty five pounds. And I'm dark-skinned. I was used to white folks, especially white women, acting squeamish when they saw me on the bus. Not this lady. She looked at me, smiled and offered me the seat next to her. I hesitated, because, well, I wasn't used to such kindness from residents of Ottawa. I sat down, and hugged my backpack. The lady smiled at me and asked me if I was cold. I nodded, for I had left my apartment in the Vanier sector of Ottawa without any gloves. The lady opened her purse, took some lotion and offered me some. I looked at her and she winked, telling me that the lotion would actually warm my hands. I smiled back at her, and took the lotion. I unscrewed the cap, poured some on my hands and rubbed it on my palms. Then I gave her back the bottle of Aloe cream. The lady shook her head, smiled and asked me where I was from.
When the lady asked me where I came from, inwardly I sighed. In the City of Ottawa, there are a lot of immigrants. Many of them from places like Eastern Europe, North Africa and the Middle East. A sizeable number of folks of Afro-Caribbean and continental African origin have been moving into Ottawa lately. The ones who "look" white or near-white seldom get asked about their origins. Those who are visibly different, like black folks, the Chinese, the Indians and others, we often get asked that loaded question "where are you from?" I smiled at her and told her I came from the Caribbean. To my immense surprise, the lady brightened up like a Christmas tree and told me that she came from there as well. I looked at her, stunned. This woman was around thirty, with Black hair, light bronze skin and pale brown eyes. She looked Italian rather than Hispanic to me. In the Caribbean we have mostly Blacks and Hispanic folks, with some white expatriates from North America and Europe thrown in.
The lady smiled that decidedly infectious smile of hers, introduced herself as Lima Montello, and told me she was born and raised in Havana, Cuba. I stared at her for a moment, grinned, then extended my hand as I introduced myself to her. Stephen W. Dorvil, born in Haiti and raised in Jamaica. Lima gently elbowed me, pointed through the window, at the snow falling fast outside and asked me what brought a Caribbean like me to cold-ass Ottawa. I pointed to my backpack. It had the University of Ottawa logo on it. I'm an international student, I told Lima proudly. Lima smiled and told me that she was an international student too. She took out her wallet from her purse, and showed me her Carleton University student identification card. Still surprised at how forward this broad was, I looked at it. On the photo, Lima looked pretty but different, with short spiky hair bleached bright blue. Lima noticed me staring at the picture and grinned, telling me that she went through a "blue hair chick" phase a while back. I smiled at that, and took out my Samsung touchscreen phone. I logged on my Facebook account and showed her my profile picture. Me sporting a Mohawk haircut and dressed like Mr. T. Gazing at the picture, Lima shook her head and laughed. I did it for Halloween, I said somewhat defensively.
Lima smiled, and told me all was good. She shot me a conspiratorial look and told me that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. I nodded at that. It's amazing how many Canadians try to be like Americans, to the point of imitating their expressions. I bet this gal hasn't even been to Vegas. Still, she seemed cool, though. The average white woman in Ottawa is definitely not that open towards a guy she just met on the bus. Hell, I've gotten sour and cold, analytical glances from Black women I ran into in the streets, movie theaters, restaurants and shopping centers of metropolitan Ottawa. Black or white, straight or gay, these people aren't that friendly. I still shudder when I thought of this gay bar I visited one time with Lucas Wahid, a tall, decent-looking biracial dude from the Wal-Mart warehouse where I work. Lucas is half black and half Lebanese, and totally gay. When we got to the bar, everyone stared at me like I had two heads. This was my first and last visit to any gay establishment in Ottawa. Lucas Grey had our fun for a few weeks, then stopped seeing each other. I don't have much faith in relationships these days, whether male/female or male/male. People are fucked up, you know?
