Tales from St Anthony Part XIV -- Cultural sensitivities

To Newfie or not to Newfie, that is the question and one whose answer is far from being simple and straightforward.

Australians suffer a rare genetic disposition that propels them to shrink everything to its lowest common diction denominator ; the term reductio ad absurdum was originally penciled onto Australia’s coat of arms but it was shortened to just Australia – true story.

Incidentally does anyone else find it strange the phrase on the Royal Coat of Arms of the United Kingdom is in French? I would have surely just gone with God and my right, rather than the French translation, Dieu et mon droit.

Their sensitivity to pre-Revolution aristocracy means the French haven’t bothered with a heraldic coat of arms, however if one existed I am almost certain it wouldn’t be in English, unless it was a jibe directed squarely at the English, something simple like “nick off” or “your rugby team is rubbish”.

Back on point, the Newfie argument is one that hasn’t been resolved since our re-settlement from Vancouver to St Anthony.

Before we left the message was clear – calling a Newfoundlander a Newfie is the greatest disrespect imaginable

Since our arrival the overwhelming message has been that Newfoundlanders don’t find Newfie derogatory unless the recipient is from St John’s in which case they will berate you endlessly.

I am always very concerned when it comes to nicknames for a country’s inhabitants.

As an Australian, I am comfortable with the term Aussie a simple contraction of our country. In fact I don’t know of anyone who finds Aussie offensive, I don’t mind it when I’m called a convict in reference to our prison colony past. Sticks and stones and all that I guess but Newfie, now that is an interesting one.

According to The Dictionary of Newfoundland English, the term was first used by the province natives well before transiting US soldiers started using it as a pejorative and disrespectful term in 1945.

It could be argued that Australian soldiers solved a similar issue in 1942 when they rumbled with US soldiers who they deemed to be disrespectful of Australian culture and in the words of one author, "the Yanks were overpaid, oversexed and over here."

The term Newfie was abolished in Alberta of all places in the 1970s; the government of the day deemed the term a racial slur and banned its use on number plates until 2006 when, according to CBC, the government changed their mind and described the word “as a term of endearment”.

I don’t know if that makes it any better, “a term of endearment” makes it sound patronizing, in itself could be considered far worse in some circles.

I guess the thing is any term used to describe a group of people can be used with negative undertones and let’s be honest, some names are better used by their owners.

Looks like I may to have to suppress the innate compulsion to shorten the tongue-twisting term Newfoundlander until I can fully justify its legitimacy. The last thing I want to do is pick the scab off a freshly healed sore or come across as someone culturally insensitive.

Having lived in London, I know what it’s like to be thought of as a cultural barbarian.

Whenever I overheard the word “Australian” it was generally prefaced by the term ‘bloody’ and not by someone exclaiming, “oh those bloody Australians are such a lovely jovial lot who can handle their alcohol and are delightfully quiet and pleasant on the Tube”.

No, it was more, “when we shipped those bloody Australians down there the first time, did someone leave a map because how the hell else did they all find their way back up here to take all our jobs?”

Learning how to time travel and the conspiracy of the Googlebox -- Departure T-Minus 16 Days

The enormity of what we are embarking on finally dawned as we sent bag after bag of clothes and belongings to the local thrift store but as in all great love stories the pieces of the Newfoundland puzzle are clicking into place with ease.

Like everything in the world though, nothing is what it seems, especially if you base your life on Google Maps and here is why.

Firstly we have secured an apartment and here is a lovely little map showing you just how far Em will have to travel to get from our two bedroom slice of heaven to the office. I wanted to work out just how far away it was from Em's office so I mapped it out.

According to Google Maps the 1.1km journey will take 12 minutes to walk or two minutes to drive but I wondered as I do, "what is Google basing this on?" and what I discovered could rock the interwebz to its very foundation.

Science, take it away.

Wikipedia, that great tome of questionable knowledge, states that the average human walks at 3 miles per hour according to Naismith's Rule, which is:

"a rule of thumb that helps in the planning of a walking or hiking expedition by calculating how long it will take to walk the route, including ascents, devised in 1892 following the rule: "Allow 1 hour for every 3 miles (5 km) forward, plus ½ hour for every 1000 feet (300 metres) of ascent."

The article also goes on to state that:

"Specific studies have found pedestrian walking speeds ranging from 2.8 mph to 2.95 mph for older individuals to 3.3 mph to 3.38 mph for younger individuals"

That "study" is from a 1997 TranSafety study specifically looking at older people's walking speeds in relation to traffic signals and for how long the little green walking man and the blipping red non-walking man should be shown for to allow those 65 and older to cross a road without being skittled.

Without stating an age range for the "younger individuals" the study also states that males walk 0.32 feet per second faster than women.

Extrapolating the results from Google Maps, a person will need to walk at 3.42 miles per hour to accomplish the distance of 1.1km in in the stipulated time of 12 minutes leaving two possible conclusions:

A) Google is being optimistic and encouraging in their appraisal of our modern day walking habits or;

B) Google is wrong in assuming the fitness of the young males from the aforementioned 1997 study are the same as the fitness levels of young males circa 2010. Don't forget that in 1997 there was no World of Warcraft, physical activities didn't involve a Wii console and worldwide obesity levels were manageable without the need for stretchy pants.

Anyway the real reason for me jumping into the details of this 1.1km journey is that Google Maps suggests it takes 17 hours to drive from St John's to St Anthony, which I find to be all together a load of bollocks.

According to Newfoundland and Labrador Statistics Agency the 1056km journey will take 12 hours if you stick to the speed limits. If you choose to travel at 100km/h the entire way, an implausible and illegal activity, you can make the trip in 10-and-a-half hours.

Where are those other 5 hours Google? Hey? Hey?

Oh and the other good news is that we almost own a car -- a 1999 Mazda Protege, but more on that later.

For now I am awaiting a response from the Googlebox on my time travel conundrum.

How much noose would a hangman lose if a hangman loosened noose? Departure T-minus 25 days

Axe murderers are, on a whole, interesting characters, John Pelley is no different.

I came across his name researching each of the towns between Corner Brook and St Anthony, the story of the Cow Head double axe attack piquing my interest and after a quick trawl through the Google-box machine's tangled tentacles of information, I tracked down court documents and at least three different accounts of events surrounding the murder of Joseph Rendall and Richard Cross.

For those worried about the morbidity of my interest to my defence a) I am Australian hence I almost certainly come from convict stock myself and; b) I am a writer who has just found a muse in Pelley for an upcoming piece.

The synopsis of the story is thus (the full story can be found here at the great CanadaGenWeb.org:

Joseph Rendall and Richard Cross were mates, actually they were almost family, Cross's sister, Sarah Cross Singleton was engaged to be married to Rendall.

Pelley was a strange kitten with a shady past, some said he had murdered his wife in Ireland before fleeing across the Atlantic to escape capture. Whether there is any truth to that no-one knows but it adds an extra dimension to the story.

All three men were trappers around the remote Cows Head region. Rendall and Cross worked together and Pelley worked alone and when they all met one fateful day, Pelley was the only survivor, the other two had their heads cleft in twain.

Sarah, who was a maid for ex-Navy officer John Paine, became alarmed when neither men came home so she and Paine travelled 28 miles to find them eventually coming across Pelley who was was camped out at Rendall's lodging.

Pelley denied ever seeing Cross and said Rendall was hunting however the pair found enough evidence to suggest they had met their end in the foulest way possible. A pool of blood next to Cross's shoes were one giveaway, another was Sarah's fiances mittens, which she had knitted, were hanging up to dry. At that time of the year you would have been a fool to brave freezing conditions without mittens, or a head.

Anyway, the maid and her boss fled and came back with a lynch squad who captured Pelley who denied any knowledge of the murders. The lynch mob built a fire and threatened to burn Pelley alive so he recanted his tale and told them where to find the body.

They hauled him back to St John's where he was hanged.

See, what an interesting story. Anyway the story opened up more questions than answers like:

What did your average Newfoundland hangman do when he wasn't readjusting spinal columns, how much did he earn and was his line of work profitable and I even tried to find out the answer to the eternal question: How long is a piece of string?

If you are talking about a hangman's rope it's between 1.2m and 1.8m.

As long as his Mr Hangman's (come on, he deserves an honorific) profession wasn't based on a per head basis, 1809 was profitable with just one customer and as far as I can work out from court documents I traced down, the hooded figure made five pounds and five shillings to end one John Pelley's life.

According to my research five shillings would have purchased 2lbs of refined salt or three tongues or five pounds of marmalade and nine shillings would have got the faceless judicial executioner 10 dozen Portuguese anchovies.

That's a tasty combination right there.

Up until September 5, Mr Hangman had very little to do, he had very little to do the nine preceding years and six years after and while there is an argument hangings were enough discouragement for those who disagreed with those tiny things called judicial norms, it can certainly be argued that the gibbeting of criminals was icing.

The gibbet isn't anything special, just a couple of pieces of timber but it was more of the ornament hanging from it - the dead criminal in chains or a body-shaped iron cage and in some cases when they really wanted to make an example of someone, the authorities would coat the body or its parts in tar.

The man who signed the death warrant was visionary traditionalist, Governor John Holloway, an allegedly compassionate man, and the first Governor of Newfoundland to issue a proclamation against mistreating the native Beothuk people and offering rewards for information about atrocities. He also allowed Newfoundland's first paper to be published.

Swings and round abouts I guess.