Andrew Primavera — Deep Diving in Cheap Beer

Many moons ago Andrew walked into a cafe I was managing with keys jangling on his belt loop and handed me his resume. I honesty don’t remember much from that resume, but I do recall he had wicked eye contact. One day after work I offered to walk him home. We began walking towards the Bow River, only a few blocks from the cafe. He stopped at the trunk of his car and said something to the likes of ‘Welcome home!’ as he opened the back of his hatchback. Inside there was a small mattress and a makeshift shelf with books. I leaned in closer to see the titles and glaring right back at me was a dischevelled copy of ‘The Unbearable Lightness of Being’ – nothing short of my favourite book. Fast friends, best friends they say.

Over the years Andrew has become a staple in my life. We have the same taste in both poetry and women. He may be a nurse and homeowner now (one of us had to get a real job), but he is still very much living a life of adventure and humble debauchery, almost always somewhere far away… and almost never shared on social media. He is my go to person for a lot of things, he’s the first person I message if I see something unbearable beautiful or impossibly painful. He is also my most loyal pen pal — I currently have 3 letters of his on my fridge! Andrew is truly one of the people who has made me, me.

I was lucky enough to visit Andrew earlier this year. He took me to damp bookshops and an old sauna house. We ended the day at an empty bar with pouring rain outside, ‘In Rainbows’ blaring through obnoxiously loud speakers by a bored bartender. Here are some portraits I took of Andrew in his home the next day.

G: How did we meet? 

Andrew: I walked into a cafe in Canmore looking for a job. Someone put you in charge so you hired me. Big mistake eh?

G: How have your parents influenced who you’ve become? 

Andrew: I’ve thought about this one a lot because my parents split when I was 2 and I grew up primarily with my mom, but carry a lot of my dad’s traits and mannerisms. My mom, by way of example, has taught me selflessness, work ethic, and commitment to family. We had a really strong connection growing up and she definitely nurtured my empathetic side, and that probably has drawn me into healthcare. My dad, even though he was a peripheral figure, was an idea in my head that expanded the way I looked at the world and influenced my aspirations — he lived and taught in Asia through the 90’s, had a univeristy education, had a mesmerizing book shelf, and spoke multiple languages. A big deal when you’re growing up in an inward-looking religious farming community. 

“free-diving wrecks in aquarium-clear waters and then reliving that wonder while smoking cheap cigarettes and drinking cold Mexican beer”

G: When do you feel most alive? 

Andrew: So many moments. But the first that comes to mind is walking down the street of a bustling city in a country that I’ve never been to. I love the sensory overload and the feelings of newness and exploration. But I’ve also had some incredibly invigorating moments in nature this past year — free-diving wrecks in aquarium-clear waters and then reliving that wonder while smoking cheap cigarettes and drinking cold Mexican beer is one. 

G: What is romance to you? 

Andrew: You got me. 

G: Favourite poem? 

Andrew: Cinnamon Peeler by Michael Ondaatje. 

If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
And leave the yellow bark dust
On your pillow.

Your breasts and shoulders would reek
You could never walk through markets
without the profession of my fingers
floating over you. The blind would
stumble certain of whom they approached
though you might bathe
under rain gutters, monsoon.

Here on the upper thigh
at this smooth pasture
neighbour to you hair
or the crease
that cuts your back. This ankle.
You will be known among strangers
as the cinnamon peeler's wife.

I could hardly glance at you
before marriage
never touch you
--your keen nosed mother, your rough brothers.
I buried my hands
in saffron, disguised them
over smoking tar,
helped the honey gatherers...

When we swam once
I touched you in the water
and our bodies remained free,
you could hold me and be blind of smell.
you climbed the bank and said

this is how you touch other women
the grass cutter's wife, the lime burner's daughter.
And you searched your arms
for the missing perfume

and knew

what good is it
to be the lime burner's daughter
left with no trace
as if not spoken to in the act of love
as if wounded without the pleasure of a scar.

You touched
your belly to my hands
in the dry air and said
I am the cinnamon
Peeler's wife. Smell me.

G: Describe a typical day.

Andrew: Oh god, I wish I had one. My day-to-day changes a lot, as I work shift work and travel contracts in different places.But when I am home in Vancouver, and not at work, and have a day completely to myself, I’ll wake up mid-morning, brew a coffee, do nothing for a couple of hours, jump on my bike to a favourite cafe, have another coffee, catch up on reading or writing, and then later in the day, fully recharged, connect with friends. 

G: Tell us about someone who impacted your life but is no longer in your life? 

One of my closest friends Al passed away about five years ago. He was the most inspiring, unique, and genuine person that I’ve ever known. We met when I was 19 and he was a couple of years older, and his example played a huge role shaping who I am today. 

G: Do you believe in an afterlife? 

Andrew: No. But it’s a nice idea. 

G: Do you believe in good and evil? 

Andrew: I don’t believe that good and evil exist beyond human judgement — but I do believe in the importance of making those judgements. 

G: What do you like most about yourself? 

Andrew: I appreciate my desire for continual growth. 

G: What do you dislike about yourself? 

Andrew: Procrastination. Like, I’ve been meaning/trying to answer these questions since March. I procrastinate on things that I care about (because the bar is held higher), and things that I find difficult — and I care about answering these for you and I find it difficult to write about myself.

G: Where do you see yourself is 10 years? 

Andrew: Hopefully looking back on the past 10 years with a sense of contentment. 

G: Favourite place in the world and why.

Andrew: Waterton Lakes National Park. It is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been, and so many of my formative experiences and friendships originated there.

G: What is your experience of work, life and play balance? 

Andrew: I have a wildly flexible work situation at the moment, so on the whole, this year is tipped heavily in the direction of life and play. But day to day I don’t have any balance — I work hard for intense periods, dropping off the map, and then have long periods off of work. For now, I prefer it this way. 

G: How do you drink your coffee? 

Andrew: As one should — black. 

G: What are you listening to right now? 

Andrew: Bonny Light Horseman — Summer Dream.