So we just moved up here to Vancouver for the year a few weeks ago, and it’s an interesting experience. Year before last we spent in Belgium, which was understandibly different and we constantly were reminded that this was another country. From the US Pacific northwest, BC feels more like. . . uncannily similar with sudden moments of minor confusion. Like, “Wait, there’s no deposit slip?” or “‘Invigilate’ the midterm exam? . . . is that like ‘proctoring’”? “I have to dial the area code, even though it’s just across the street?”
Things I’ve noticed that are different/ surprising/ surprisingly not different:
- They really like lager up here. Coming from the Portland area, this is mind-boggling.
- In BC and Manitoba, I am told, they’re really into their Canadian Football (like US football, not association football). I guess the Grey Cup is coming up and people care. Inneresting.
- What’s with the blinking green traffic light? Mysterious. . .
- The accent’s true! Even here in urban BC, I can tell who’s Canadian and who’s not. I wonder if it’s clear that I’m not from around where when I say “Sawree ah-bowt that”?
- So very casual (at least here in BC. I’m sure in Toronto or Montreal it’s different). I like the semi-formal polar fleece feel.
- I like all the cricket-playing on the park pitches. Oh, and there’s field hockey teams (mens!) at the University. Wacky. Field hockey.
- There’s nice moutain biking like 500 feet away from my front door.
- How do all the aging, chunky hippies get down to Wreck Beach and back up? I thought this clothing-optional beach would be self-selecting-- I had to stop to get my breath a few times on the way back up. How does THAT guy get back to his car?
- So Canuck is not a derogatory word? I don’t even know what it means.
- Warm beer in the liquor store. So not cool.
- Canadian Tire. What a cool place.
- French on everything at the grocery store. I feel like my French is improving daily, accidentally. “‘Farine’ means flour! Cool! Hey, look, ‘Pompelmousse’!”
Projects: I need to find some poutine. I hear there’s a Quebecois ex-pat bar with poutine and Belgian beer. I need to find that.
I need to figure out the health care system, like how I go about visiting a gynaecologist this month.
Need to pick up some mango pickle.
I need to figure out this wacky grading scale.
I like you Canadians! Nice folk.