My new roommate, Toby...

This is my new roommate Toby. Toby is my name for him, not his owners. I'm weird about naming things. Fortunately he's nothing but a rug these days because this guy, some 20 years ago, was quite the fighter (check out some of his scars), and I've seen his real skull and this dude had broken and cracked teeth from God knows what was big enough to fight back before he ate it. I've had this picture for a few days and wanted to post about him first before I posted about me. I truly dig this bearskin, it's awesome. Now, for my plight. Life isn't so bad, and the system here isn't going to shaft me or anything. Mel just needs a job and we need to fill out a few of the right forms and we're good to go(we've been here less than a week, we're doing well). I'll be looking for specific jobs, that have been unfilled for some time, meaning I'll be doing something at some point no one wants to/or can do(that way it's legal for a foreigner to apply for). Find a niche and fill it type things. Again, sarcasma-yay, but at least if that means as long as I find that specific job I can legally obtain a work permit for, I'm good to go. That's better news than immigration initially gave me at the border. And of course, things are different here. This really is a frontier town, edge of civilization and society. No joke. Its got to be something like Wyoming was 100 years ago. It even has the tension between native society and western culture. They all struggle with western work dichotmies, and we struggle with ancient hunter/gatherer culture. We want to work 9 to 5 for a salary and then do our thing, they work at things seasonally depending on what they need, and their time is always their own. I envy that, a lot. I've always wanted to own my time. Anyway, on to lunch...