My favourite place in Canada is a little town in Newfoundland called Trinity. It kind of looks like one of those car play mats you’d have as a kid: amid a sea of purple lupines, there’s a church, a merchant’s home, a forge, a
lighthouse and brightly coloured historical buildings. It’s all in a circle, so you can’t get lost no matter what direction you go.

In 1992, there was a cod moratorium in Newfoundland. Consequently, the whole economic backbone of the town ended. I was in my 20s, wanting to be an actor in St. John’s, and found an opportunity with Rising Tide Theatre. In ’93, we were sent out to retrain displaced fishery workers to be actors in a historical walking tour pageant. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to get big, burly former fishery workers to be in a little play for tourists, but they didn’t like that. One of the guys, nicknamed Beaver due to his love of wood, was the best talker in town but didn’t want to go on stage, so he built our sets.

While I was supposed to be teaching them, they taught me everything I didn’t know about Newfoundland. They were so good that over time, hundreds of people came to watch. Little restaurants and craft shops opened up, and eventually tours from all over the world visited Trinity. They went from catching fish to catching tourists.

In Trinity, I truly learned what it is to be a Newfoundlander. The thing is, you’re on a rock in the middle of the ocean. You need community. Sometimes, there’ll be horrible storms, and the only way to weather it is with a wink, a smile and a bit of a joke to remind you there is light on the other side.

The island of Newfoundland is the ancestral homeland of the Mi’kmaq and Beothuk people.