Summer at the Library July 3, 2020

Updated 2020/07/17

Pinawa Public Library
pinawapubliclibrary.com
Summer at the Library
July 3, 2020

 

 

It’s summer and the library is open for our summer hours! In case you missed it, we are back to semi-normal service. Library entrance is open to three people at a time on a first come, first serve basis. The computers are also open, but are limited to half an hour maximum usage and need an appointment. If you feel safer reserving online and picking up books from the back doors, we are continuing that service.

 

 

The children’s program returns this upcoming week with storytime on Tuesday July 7 and Wednesday July 8! The theme this week is Under the Sea. We only have six spots left in each slot, so register your child/grandchild quickly. We hope to see you on the rocks in front of the library at 1:30 next week!

 

 

Each week the Summer at the Library newsletter will preview a book new to our collection. This week, we’re looking at Translated From the Gibberish by Indian-Canadian author Anosh Irani. Irani moved to Vancouver from Mumbai in 1998, where he began his career as an award-winning author and playwright. Translated From the Gibberish is a collection of short memoirs of Irani’s adventures in Canada and one short story based on Irani’s experiences as an Indian immigrant in Canada. Be sure to come by the Pinawa Public Library to check out more of our new books!

An excerpt from Translated From the Gibberish:

I once had a yoga teacher who would use the word “exile” when he meant to say “exhale.” This was because of his accent. I was still in Bombay, before leaving for Canada twenty years ago. I had a perpetually blocked nose thanks to a deviated septum, and my family doctor – Dr. Hansotia – sent me to this man.

“Exile! Exile! Exile!” the teacher would say, letting out the breath from his belly and mouth at great speed, encouraging us to do the same. I found the idea of breathing in a closed space with fifteen other humans quite repugnant – all those germs moving around with the arrogance of frequent flyers, threatening to enter whomever they chose. But the word “exile” stayed with me, purely for its comic effect. Back then, I hardly knew what “exile” meant. Little did I know that the word would enter me more than any other germ, cause me to sneeze, writhe with fever, laugh, dance, dream, cry, do who knows what, as time went on, as a result of hurling myself from Bombay to Vancouver like a swashbuckling pirate.