ECHO... Echo... echo...

I'm volunteering for a choir concert this coming Sunday. I signed myself up on a whim, not having any idea what the group sounded like, what kind of group it was, whether anyone attended the shows etc. All I knew is that they were different, and the only way I deduced this was that they said so on their website.

I went this evening to discuss my duties as a "Volunteer Ticket Coordinator", which is super official and important sounding (more important than it sounds), and to listen a little bit to the choir practice. As soon as I stepped into the office building I fell in love. It is an old, old, old, old, old house in the middle of the city that has been magically maintained. I felt SO at home there. It smelled like my grandmother's old basket store and brown sugar fudge. The walls were brightly painted, the floors were original, and there were happy piles of clutter everywhich-way.

In the the church where the group holds their practices there were incredibly high ceilings, wacky pews, and semi-tacky homemade banners that said things like "diversity", "peace" and "social justice". There were arm chairs and couches in corners. People parked their bicycles in the entry way. This was a very well used and lived in space in the best sort of way.

The choral director was a stout yet spritely man with a Rip Van Wynkel beard.
The administrator's name was Yaya...
There were old ladies with scarves and wild hair...
Lots of people on bicycles....
Some young moms....
Scattered here and there were a few girls my age....
Several "no-nonsense", community-organizer-type-w

omen who run the show....
And you know what the accompanying instruments were?
The piano.
The guitar.
.... and the BANJO

How perfect is that?

I'm on the waiting list to join, and will hopefully hear back from them in January. Me helping out certainly can not hinder my chances in getting in! Fingers crossed that I found something else to make me feel at home in Toronto....