The Icelandic Canadian - 01.04.1988, Side 23

The Icelandic Canadian - 01.04.1988, Side 23
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN 21 Just north of the railroad tracks, opposite the station, were heaps of coal and east of them stood stacks of lumber and firewood, and all around were those strange-looking shanties and those little, white, striped or brown tents. But south on Main Street and also on Princess and King Streets could be seen tall buildings, some built of bricks, others of lumber, some finished and others still under construction. Thus did Winnipeg appear to me when I first arrived there. This enchanting city of my day dreams, this lovely Eldorado which I had built in my many visions of a brilliant future, was after all, no more imposing than this. However, she was big for her age, spreading over all the land between the Red and the Assiniboine rivers, from Kil- donan to Armstrong Point, reaching her fingers into the western prairie, striding giant steps in the direction of prosperity and progress and giving good expectations of being, in time, a large and beautiful city. Those expectations have already been ful- filled, and more than that. Who could have believed, in the spring of 1883, that after scarcely thirty years, Winnipeg would be- come what she is today? A few minutes after I stepped out of the railway coach, all my fellow passengers had disappeared. None of them was Ice- landic, as far as I could tell. I was surely the only Icelander who arrived in Winnipeg that day. Some of the people walked into town with friends and relatives who had come to meet them. Some were taken away in cabs, but most of them left with the drivers from the various hotels. When a train was expected, these drivers were sta- tioned right against the west end of the train station and, as soon as the train ar- rived, they moved to the sidewalk on the north side and shouted continually, each competing with the others. One named this hotel, and another that, as loudly as their voices allowed. I remember that some of the hotels have since changed their names or have ceased to exist, for example: the Grand Union Hotel, Hasting’s House, Davis House and the Gable Hotel. Now I was the only one left of all the travellers. I peered in every direction, try- ing to see some woman who might look like an Icelander, but no woman was to be seen. The few women who had been stand- ing on the station platform when I arrived had now all disappeared. My cousin had certainly not been among them. To be sure, I had never seen her but I had often heard her described and did not doubt that I would recognize her if I saw her. I had been told she was short, with thick blonde hair and a fair-sized dimple on her chin. It seemed to me that this should be sufficient for me to recognize her. And she should be able to recognize me because I had a large scar on my left cheek and was tall for my age, though rather slim and rawboned. Some minutes passed. Still my cousin did not appear and I began to think of asking the station agent to point out an Icelander to me. If I could just talk to an Icelander, I was sure I could find my cousin. I did not know the name of the street she lived on or the number of her house for she had never mentioned them in her letters. Anyway, except for certain streets, there were no numbers on the houses in Winni- peg. But I knew that my cousin’s house was on Point Douglas close to the river. Just as I was going to talk to the station agent, I noticed a little woman walking towards me along the railway track from the east. She walked briskly and energeti- cally and swayed a little and threw out her right arm occasionally, as if she was warn- ing someone away. As she came nearer, I saw that she had light hair which was just beginning to gray. There was a tiny dimple on her chin and some wrinkles on her cheeks. Her eyes were large and clear, with many lines in the corners. She appeared to be about fifty. I knew immediately that she was my cousin, Solrun. She walked directly

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