November 1st is World Vegan Day, a celebration of the birth of veganism and the first vegan society. Vegans all over the world are gathering together to celebrate a healthy, compassionate and environmentally friendly lyfestyle. It’s a big shindig.
Except, of course, if you live on the Rock.
There are no big events here in honor of the day. There are no public gatherings, no banners waving, no free vegan pizza. In fact, I wonder whether you could find more than a handfull of vegans on this entire island, salt beef being what it is to the Newfoundland culture. But I could be wrong here…we don’t get out much.
Maybe it’s not such a big deal in the cities, but on our little rural corner of the island, it’s tough to be vegan. When we left Ontario, land of organic plenty and corner heath food stores, veganism was a cinch. Just pop round to the grocery superstore and pick out supper from a huge variety of vegan friendly products. Simply stop by the health food place on your way home to get the ingredients for your favorite chocolate dessert. Now it’s a whole different kettle of fish. There are very few organic products to be found here, and anything bought in the general store, aside from a limited selection of vegetables, is definitely not vegan.
There’s another problem, as well. Newfoundlanders are known for their code of hospitality. The first thing people do to welcome you into their home or community is feed you. And it’s not an easy matter to refuse the gesture. To do so would be throwing their culture back in their faces, an insult that might greatly affect their feelings of goodwill toward you. Those cakes and squares they’re offering are made with love and offered in friendship.
Too, there’s the problem of ignorance. Many people here are the died-in-the-wool, you-can’t-survive-without-meat variety. They’re virtually untouched by the broader ideas that the larger urban centers might embrace. This isn’t a bad thing altogether; they’re also not touched by the arrogance and insensitivity that comes with urban dwelling. It does, however, make it difficult to just announce your vegan tendencies. I always feel as if it would be tantamount to announcing that you’re a satanist to a congregation of evangelists. Some of them would run away screaming, while the rest would try to drive the devil out of you.
All in all, that leaves us stuck between a rock and a hard place.
As a result, we’ve had to slip back to a quasi-vegan lifestyle. That is to say, more vegetarian than true vegan. Vegetarianism is not such an alien thing. Everybody knows someone who is a vegetarian, even if they do shake their heads in puzzlement as they tell you about them. I think mostly it’s the younger generation bringing their fancy ideas back from the cities where they attend school, or it’s someone who’s moved away to civilization. But nonetheless, this does make it more acceptable to be a vegetarian in rural Newfoundland.
Do I feel guilty about this change? You betcha. And I miss the food variety, too! But once again we’re faced with a tough choice.
We stay as true to our vegan beliefs as we can, but let’s face it, the prime directive is survival, and for that food is necessary, as is the goodwill of our fellows. There have been times when a fillet of cod was a gift we couldn’t afford to decline, and, while we don’t involve ourselves much in the community here, we know that were we ever in dire need these fine people would come to our assistance, as they have in the past. For that alone we accept their gifts of food, vegan or not (save for the moose meat), and we’re grateful for the sentiment behind it, the acceptance it signifies and the comraderie it brings.
So as for this couple of vegans caught between a rock and a hard place, we choose the Rock, with all of its lifestyle challenges.
Think of us when you’re enjoying that free vegan pizza at the World Vegan Day celebrations, won’t you? We’ll be thinking of you!