Dave Sebeslav

I must have been in the mid 1970ies when, at the age of 12 or 13, one hot summers day I returned to our small farm in Lower Austria from the work in the fields when one of my brothers came running towards me:

“You’ll never guess who has been here earlier on?”

My poor brother was quite disappointed as my answer came without a moment of hesitation: “Our uncle from Canada!”

Our uncle in Canada!

Growing up in rural Austria with parents that never had left the country, never went on a holiday and hardly ever left the farm at all, an uncle in Canada had been rather an abstract perception to me. Canada was at least as far away as the moon.

Only the regular Christmas card and an old electric stove which my mother hardly ever used but as she told us, my parents had bought from my uncle Karl when he left the country in 1969, lead me to the believe that maybe my uncle in Canada was not purely an mythological figure after all.

A few days later Uncle Karl with his wife Silvia and all three children, Magdalena and Andrea about ten years old and Max about six came back for one evenings visit. It was Karl and Sylvie’s first visit since they had left Austria. And first visit of the children at all.

What an occasion and what an impact on the monotony of our live on the farm. For the first time I played with cousins that did not speak Austrian, not even German and for the first time I realized, maybe learning English at school was not that unnecessarily as believed.

As we bade farewell this evening I – out of an strange impulse – said to Karl: “One day when I have grown up I will visit you in Canada!”

Of course, nobody took notice of it. But thorough all the hard years of puberty, when my liberal ideas collided with the conservative upbringing of my parents, one thought gave me comfort: “One day I break free, I visit my uncle in Canada and start travelling the world!”

At the age of 19 – to the horrors of my parents – I turned my long cradled dream into reality; I quit my job, sold my car and went off to Canada on a Moped.

After staying half a year with Karl and his family I went on vagabonding the world and when I settled back in Austria in 1995 I started working in tourism. So more than 20 years now I am taking Austrian tourists abroad and still greatly enjoy the diversity of our planet and cultures.

And in this sad moment of farewell, I am grateful indeed, that I had the chance to meet you after a long time once more just a few months ago, when I guided a tourist group through Canada and I managed to squeeze in a wine tasting at Inniskillin, with you showing us through your lives work.

Everybody was so content, my clients for the great surprise, the local Canadian tourist guide, who was so proud to meet you personally, after mentioning for years the great wine pioneers Ziraldo/Kaiser, whenever she took clients through Niagara-the-Lake and finally myself of course, to see you in your element, talking about wine!

And in this sad moment of saying farewell to you, it further occurs to me, how hard it must have been for you, coming from the same rural background as me, leaving your home, starting a new live overseas from the scratch and being so successful in it. A real pioneer indeed!

And in this sad moment of saying farewell to you I wonder if I would have had the strength to set my first step out into the unpredictable world out there without having your address to head for. 

Had I ever seen the whole word?

Had I ever seen at least some countries?

Had I ever learned to appreciate the diversity of our planet?

I don’t know, but I`m quite sure that my destiny would have been a different one, if I had not spontaneously said to you back then in the mid 1970ies: “Uncle, one day I will visit you in Canada!”

Thank you for inspiring me, thank you for your hospitality, rest in peace!