I’ve always been someone who pays attention to the world around me. Like some people who are interested in sports, I have a keen interest in people and making connections with them.
We all have parts of our brains that function a bit higher than other parts. For me, it's my memory for people and circumstances.
Not my memory for keys and other bits – that must be a separate part of my brain.
I remember going through my older brother’s yearbooks as a kid. Chris (my oldest brother) is six years older than me, so students in his yearbook could have been 10 years older than I am. I can still recognize someone I saw in those books today. Even though I may have never met the person before, I can see their high school picture in my mind.
Church was also a great place to study people when I was a kid - I analyzed everyone around me. What people wore, how they held themselves, how far they sat away from their family members, and if they looked around when they went for communion.
I loved going visiting with my mom. Lots of conversation and I learned a lot about the people around me.
University broadened my pool. I was around 5,000 new-to-me people.
After graduating from St. FX, I made my way to Toronto. I can remember sitting on the subway looking at people. I could see someone I had analyzed on the subway at IKEA a month later and recognize them.
My keen interest in others usually leads to conversation, connection - and great stories.
Once upon a time, my friend’s husband told me he wanted to set me up with a friend of his – he thought we could be soul mates. He showed me a picture of him, and he was indeed a cutie. The set up never happened due to life and geography. One night when I was out, I spotted a guy who looked familiar sitting at a table. My memory told me the guy at the table was the guy in the pic. I told my girlfriends I needed to go talk to someone. ‘Who is it?’ they asked. I said, ‘I’m not sure, but if it is who I think it is – you are going to laugh.’
After wiggling myself into some conversation at his table, I slyly put my X ring on the table… he bit. He said, ‘Oh, X, one of my best buddies went there, what year did you graduate?’ It was him. He didn’t end up being my soulmate.
Last year, I was in St, John’s, N.L. for work, and I went to the fabulous Merchant Tavern for dinner. It has great energy and being a solo diner isn’t awkward at all, as there is usually someone to talk to.
It was packed and there was only one seat left at the bar when I got there. A short while later, the seat to my left was open. The bartender asked if I could squeeze down so that they could fit one more spot in.
As soon as the couple sat down, I knew I was going to have a connection with them. Something about their energy spoke to me.
I watched them interact with each other - they were so cute. There was something playful about the way they spoke to each other. I thought maybe they were newly dating.
She had a scarf on her head - I assumed it was just to keep her hair in place while up on Signal Hill, not because she was having chemo.
The man and I ordered the same thing, so he asked me what kind of wine I had ordered with my steak.
Conversation began.
They weren’t dating – they had been married over 30 years. They had dated when they were young and she broke up with him, but they found each other again in their late 20s.
Eventually, they asked me what I do for work, and I knew when I told them they would tell me she had ovarian cancer. That would be the connection.
I said, ‘I look after the Atlantic region for Ovarian Cancer Canada.’
They said ‘OMG, I just rang the bell in Ottawa for my last treatment before we came on vacation.’
After a wonderful conversation, they walked me back to my hotel. Hugs were shared.
I once met a guy at a coffee shop in Barcelona – our conversation was spurred by the Blue Jays hat he was wearing. He was just finishing medical school in Toronto and was taking a break before heading into his residency.
Fast forward a year, I was walking by the Commons in Halifax when he ran by me with headphones on. My brain saw the face and bam! I remembered who he was. I said ‘Hello! Hello!’. My screech halted him in his tracks, and he pulled his earphones out. I reminded him of our run in and all he said was ‘OMG, I can’t believe you recognized me.’ On top of that, he was doing a placement under a very good friend of one of my brothers.
I remember things about people I don’t even want to tell them I remember. It can almost feel embarrassing at times.
If I see someone I know, being brief or not saying hello makes me feel as uncomfortable as a nun would feel going to a bar.
I’ve been living in cities for nearly 20 years now, and even my connection and conversation-loving self has gotten used to having a fair bit of anonymity in my day to day life.
'Hellos' in cities aren’t the same as they are in a small town. Now that I’m living in Antigonish again, I’m running into people I haven’t run into in a long time, which means the chats are longer.
The other day, I parked my car at my new house and thought I would walk from there down Main Street to The Landing. The return walk would be somewhere around 10,000 steps - a decent stroll. The problem is, I ran into too many people!
Anna, who used to work at the pool desk when I was a kid. Sue Ellen, my cousin’s wife. A loud beep and a pullover for a chat with my wonderful Aunt Lucy. Herbie Bonvie, a great guy who I knew from growing up. The list goes on.
I found myself short on time, but my step count was nowhere near 10,000 steps.
On Saturday, I thought I’d take the dogs somewhere a bit more remote to walk to get more steps in. I parked at the end of the Big Marsh Road – a dirt road about a mile away from my parent’s house.
I wasn’t five minutes in when my cousin's sweet husband Pius came along in his truck, and before I was done talking to him, another beep and pull over – my cousin Rita was coming back from bringing her cat to the vet.
Millie, my dog, started to howl in protest to my standing still. Rita and I continued our conversation with her driving slowly beside me.
More beeps and more hellos filled the walk.
I had told my mother I would be about an hour. Hunting season had started that day and she was worried about us getting shot. I rolled into home nearly two hours later. We didn’t get shot by a hunter, but I did get hit with the conversation bullet.
When I was living in the city, I needed to add more time to my plans because I would anticipate being delayed by traffic or searching for a parking spot. Now that I’m living in Antigonish, I need to add more time because I need to anticipate running into people I know.
COVID has caused a lot of restrictions, but it can’t stop this girl from talking to people she knows (or doesn’t yet know!) – I just need to keep it six feet apart and chat while walking on the spot.
With an insatiable love for human behaviour and circumstance, Emilie Chiasson absorbs the world around her, and turns her experiences into relatable stories. From her home town of Antigonish, N.S. to her travels around the world, she never fails to connect with the characters and perspectives that make life a bit more colourful. Read more at emiliechiasson.wordpress.com.
