Haliburton: little town at a crossroads

So, I'm nearing the end of one of my increasingly-routine weekend stints with the fam up in Haliburton.  For anyone who doesn't know, Haliburton is the little hamlet in Central Ontario that I spent most of my childhood growing up in - since I was 7, to be exact.  For those of you who are Ontarians, you may recognize it as the place you once visited when you were invited up to your ex-girlfriend's brother's best friend's uncle's cottage; if you don't, it can be sufficiently described as like Muskoka, (surely you've heard of Muskoka!) but without the pervasive presence of Corporate America and snobby celebrities.  It's really quite a nice little place, with an emphasis on little: the village of Haliburton that I live in (to be distinguished from the larger general area of Haliburton that most "citiots" associate with the name) has a population of around 1500, growing at about .003% per year (statistics courtesy: myself).  Heck, even the region is so small that Blogger keeps putting that little dotted red line underneath it every time I spell it (no, wise webmaster, I did not mean to say that I lived in a "halibut").  

So, you get the picture - Haliburton is small.  In fact, there's only one semi-major intersection in the whole town, and until I hit high school, it also contained the only set of stoplights.  Despite this singular minor road junction, however, I perceive the town as being at a major cultural-socio-economic crossroads (how's that for a literary device?  Good ol' Mr. Cooper would be proud!).  As I already mentioned, it's in the heart of "cottage country", meaning that during the summer the population skyrockets, with boat trailers and Ford Expeditions clogging streets that probably haven't been widened since the horse and buggy became obsolete.  Unlike many other tourist towns in Central Ontario, however, Haliburton has maintained a genuinely "local" feel, partly characterized by the absence of big-business franchises (although this is slowly changing: a nearby village, Minden, got the first Tim Hortons in the county a few years ago, thereby rendering unnecessary the 1 hour journey one had to take if they were jonesin' an Iced Capp).  More significantly, I've always gotten the feeling that Haliburtonians have a unique character, whether you consider their (or our - I continue to experience an identity crisis as to whether I, an immigrant to the region, am a true "Haliburtonian" or not) mannerisms, the slight twang in the accent, or even the extraordinary capacity to know the name of at least half of the people they see when they go downtown for a loaf of bread.

In my opinion, this distinctiveness - or even identity, I suppose - has proven to be positive in some ways, and negative in others.  I think the positives are by far the most salient.  For one thing, everyone needs a unique place that they can call their own, with it's own characteristics, features, and oddities.  I feel that Haliburton (as a region) more than provides for this need, not only in itself as a whole unit, but also in that it can be subdivided into sub-units that people identify with to an even greater extent.  For example, I was always known amongst my pupils as one of the few kids who actually lived "in town", whereas others had to be bussed in from all over the county.  When asked where in the region they live, people almost always identify with a general lake or road area (i.e. "I live on the Harburn Road" or "I live on Drag Lake"), kind of in the same way as someone in Toronto will say they live at Bloor and Bathurst.  Living in Guelph, in contrast, I don't get nearly the same sense of loyalty to a community or area.  Obviously, interaction with neighbors is naturally more common in contexts where there is this sense of belonging, which is another plus.

For all of the positives intrinsic in identifying with a community such as Haliburton, however, I think there are some less-obvious challenges.  Broadly speaking, I think a certain unhealthy rural-urban divide continues to be perpetuated, where small-towners are alienated by people from the city, and vice-versa.  Undoubtedly, this can be partly attributed to ignorance on the part of tourists and cottagers, who despite spending all of 15 weekends a year in the area, often act as if they own the place.  However, from my experience, some locals often view people from the city with a good deal of suspicion, and can even be downright mean (the term "citiots" that I jokingly used previously wasn't used very jokingly when I first heard it a couple of years ago).  Although I feel living in Guelph for four years after growing up in Hali has given me a perspective on both sides, I still can't quite figure out what the source of these types of differences is.  And it really bothers me, since I have some great friends from both contexts, and am convinced that both demographics are made up of mostly good people.

This rural-urban divide - which I think must be fairly universal throughout Canada - has pretty big implications for a town like Haliburton.  I mentioned earlier in a poorly thought out pun that Hali is at a type of "crossroads".  What I'm referring to is the uncertainty as to the place that Hali has within a broader cultural, social, and - most importantly - economic context.  It's undebatable that tourism is what the town has going for it economically, but in order to fully cash in on this potential, it's likely that certain unorthodox decisions are going to need to be made.  For example: although ideas such as eco-tourism may be scoffed at by some within the region, it has be recognized that in an age of global warming and rising oil prices, traditional  recreational activities such as motor sports are becoming less and less affordable and desirable.  Financially, certain steps need to be taken to invest in the attractiveness and "quaintness" of the towns (Haliburton and Minden, notably) themselves, even though this may involve the municipal government and local business owners making short-term sacrifices, such as cutting into savings or taking out loans.  This is essential if the region is going to be able to compete with big-name cottage country brands such as Huntsville and Parry Sound, regardless of how big of sellouts these places are (ouch!) ;)  Just as in big cities, a certain degree of central planning is also needed regarding the town layouts and property development, in order to make sure that investments being made contribute to greater long-term prosperity (read: Tom doesn't agree with the five-storey old person condo building being build down by Head Lake!  Sorry, small town politics rant).  Of course, to focus on tourism as the primary agent of economic growth means that animosity and opposition to a greater presence of urbanites needs to significantly recede - a tough pill for many from Haliburton to swallow, considering the high horse that the Southerners tend to often ride in on!

Looking back on this posting, I think it's one of those pieces that I wrote in order to process some thoughts that were whirling around in my head.  Not really sure how interesting this type of stuff is for non-small towners, but hopefully it gives you a bit of a perspective as to the differences that exist between living in the city, and living in the country.  The issues regarding environmental impact, financial investment, and central planning are all hot-button in Haliburton at the moment, so they've been forefront in my mind (my old man actually just got into a bit of a vocal sparring match with the reeve over the said condo development - pretty funny to hear him rant about it over dinner!)  I'm sure Jill Brown (fellow Haliburtonian who has the pleasure of also living in Guelph, and thus constantly hearing me rant about happenings in our stomping grounds) would appreciate a break from hearing me out (so graciously, I might add), so if you ever want my two cents on live in Hali, just bring it up!  

Cheers

Tom