Room Five

A quick disclaimer before we get started: internet access has been spotty, and we've been on the run. Pardon the Eesti-vomit.

The view from our hotel in Vancouver

Monday

There isn't much to say about our drive north from Portland to Vancouver except to set up what was to happen much later in the day. As we were getting ready to cross the border, shutting off our phones and reaching into the vault for Canadian jokes, it became clear that we all seemed to have the idea in our heads that Canadians were nice people who liked free beer, jelly doughnuts and said 'eh?' after every other word.

The crossing was uneventful, and a little more than an hour afterward we eventually found our lodging at the beautiful University of British Columbia, which sits northwest of Vancouver itself. Our dorms had stunning views of the city, the mountains and the sea which proved to make each moment by the window a breathtaking experience.

The group went out for dinner at an Irish pub – seemingly a tradition when it comes to Eesti tours – and returned to the dorms hoping to get rest and prepare for a long week of music. A friend and I decided we hadn't had enough of the city, and went back in search of other things to do. Eventually, we found ourselves back in the same pub seated at the bar next to a handful of Canadian gentlemen who had heard us singing in the pub a few hours before.

We got to talking – them in their perfect Canadian accents, eh? – and got the chance to tell them about who we were and why we celebrated the Estonian culture. We gave them an invitation to our Tuesday concert, but I didn't think much of it.

The small sanctuary in St. Anslem's

Tuesday

The second day of our tour began with an early breakfast, and an excursion to Stanley Park. It's about as tourist-y as Vancouver BC gets, packed with buses of Asian visitors, bicycles and vacationing east-coasters. The aquarium was too expensive for us cheap choir kids, so we wandered down to a collection of totem poles near the edge of the park.

A short distance away was a small lighthouse which you could walk underneath, and a plaza offering solid views of the bay. A handful of choir members collected in the archway under the lighthouse and sang 'Set me as a seal,' a sacred piece whose message is that love is stronger than death. It wasn't a perfect rendition, but there was a little magic in it. A few tourists gathered and watched curiously, snapping a few photos while we sang and looking on with interest.

Later in the evening, we changed into our concert gear and set out for the rather tiny St. Anslem's Church just a few minutes from the UBC campus. It's an a-frame with no more than 20 rows of pews, and while we warmed up the staff of the church busied themselves preparing refreshments for a post-concert reception. Meanwhile, we couldn't get our act together. We were out of tune and frustrated, eventually shifting our formation in a desperate attempt to pull things into place before our small crowd arrived.

But when the concert began, we entered room five. You'd have had to sung with Lonnie Cline about four years ago to entirely understand, but we used to talk about how one room was notes and rhythms, one was balance, blend and pitch, another was phrasing and dynamics and so fourth. The final room was room five, and that was where magic happened. Somewhere between our horrible warm ups and the concert, we entered room five. It was a special experience, and talking with our concert goers afterward was touching.

The opening Gala at the Whistler Conference Center

Wednesday

This day was a tough one. I woke up late, and didn't have time for any breakfast other than a granola bar before hopping in a friend's car and heading out for Whistler. It's about a two hour drive, one filled with absolutely stunning views of the British Columbia countryside – but that word doesn't begin to describe what we saw.

The highway winds its way up into the mountains, passing sheer cliffs of granite and bright blue rivers and lakes before eventually dropping into Whistler itself. The village, which hosted the 2010 Winter Olympics, is equally opulent. The conference center sits near the main highway, with a collection of unbelievably nice hotels surrounding a central collection of shops and overpriced restaurants.

We dropped our things at the “Home” hostel and went down for the Laulupidu rehearsal. There we met many of the faces and voices we have come to know over the years. The Portland Estonians were loving as always, and it was touching to talk with a few Estonians from Toronto and to see those from Seattle and San Francisco as well.

The rehearsal was normal, at least to us, and afterward we walked to the conference center to prepare for the opening gala. The building is special. There's a huge fireplace at the front, and massive wooden beams stretching down the building's length.

Later in the evening, after a few Eesti-English speeches, a group of local native dancers performed for us. They sang their native songs, and talked about how their culture came together to celebrate with music and dance – just as they Estonians do. They ended their set by getting the audience of over 500 to stand and dance like animals, which was an entertaining sight.

In the second half of the Gala, we stepped on stage in front of a line of Estonian flags while a duet of a violin and piano played on a raised stage. We sang two songs, one by Veljo Tormis and the other a national favorite: Ta lendab mesipu poole. One of the last times I can remember our choir singing the song to an Estonian audience was our first concert on Saaremaa last summer, and it was magical. This rendition brought a similar response, and I will always remember a little old man who bounced when he clapped as we walked off stage.

Wednesday was capped with a strange attempt at finding breakfast food for the next morning, fare only available at a late-night convenience store. We arrived back at our hostel, which has signs posted reminding patrons to close ground-level doors behind them so wildlife (bears) won't come in and explore.