Tales from an Exotic Foreign Land

While traveling through our neighbor to the North, I thought it might be fun to document some of the small differences between American and Canadian culture. I was right. Those Canadians sure are quirky, with their beer-drinking, hockey-loving, no gun violence ways.

Here are the immediate differences I found:

+ Before turning yellow, their green lights flash off and on. The smaller stoplights flash off and on immediately. I assume this is to warn about stale green lights and prevent accidents, but it had me worrying about the possibility of an epileptic seizure.

+ They really do love their hockey. The radio DJ I’m listening to says many bad words (words George Carlin indicated you couldn’t say on the radio) in reference to the Calgary Flames, the arch rival of their precious Vancouver Canucks. If this sounds like gibberish to you, you are not alone.

Also, a commercial presents the opportunity to win Olympic hockey tickets, at which point a manly man starts crying, indicating that a love for hockey is enough to bring even the most masculine guy to tears. It’s like they’ve never even heard of football.

+ That DJ on the radio isn’t even a sports personality, but rather a morning guy on a rock station. His signature bit is to give away free gasoline to callers who answer questions correctly. The station promotes this with a jingle indicating that the DJ “has gas.” It’s nice to see that some things carry over from country to country, but did it have to be corny morning show jokes?

+ Speaking of gas, it’s a trap here in Canada. The signs at gas stations say $1.24. Sounds amazing, right? The catch is that Canada refuses to catch up with the rest of the world (and by “rest of the world” I mean “United States”) and is still on the metric system. So that $1.24 is per litre. And they even have the audacity to spell liter the English way.

It turns out gas is slightly more expensive in Vancouver than in Seattle. Here is a picture to prove it:
The kicker is I am paying about 25 cents per litre for various taxes from the Queen. There’s nothing worse than paying Canada’s taxes while living with America’s healthcare system.

+ Canadian pronunciation differences crack me up. Route becomes “root,” processor becomes “pro”cessor, and “don’t you know” is a perfectly acceptable replacement for a period. My favorite pronunciation comes when an ad for the television show “House” comes on the radio.

In a thirty second commercial, “House” is pronounced about twenty times, and you can tell each time that the professional voiceover girl is struggling not to call him “Dr. Hoose.” It is like they are training their audience not to refer to their favorite show as “Hoose.” I find this to be hilarious.

+ The popular form of poker here is called Pai Gow. I learn this when the radio show mocks a political candidate for his affinity for gambling on Pai Gow and sleeping with prostitutes. I also find it interesting that John McCain is mentioned. On the news they say that McCain is being endorsed by the NRA. This is met with a sarcastic “Great.”

I find this intriguing primarily because of the influence of American politics on Canadian culture. Quick, name a Canadian politician. Hell, name their Prime Minister. Props to you if you knew that they had a Prime Minister.

+ I visited a gorgeous beach in Vancouver (pictures of Vancouver to come in an upcoming blog) and was shocked to see the following sign:


So let’s get this straight: No camping, no fire, no lifeguard, and no drinking, but you’re free to walk around naked? What’s the point if you can’t drink? Or are they merely specifying that you can’t drink martinis? Maybe they are declaring the beach to be “Moosehead country” and banning any sissy drinks with olives.

Either way, this is clearly unAmerican. We, descending from puritans, would of course frown at the idea of nudity so close to a booming metropolis. But we would never ban drinking on the beach. (You know, except for when we do, but that’s usually a “wink and a nod” ban. )

After all, if we prohibited getting drunk on the beach, the blue states would be sorely lacking in offspring, and the red states would have nothing to aspire to.

Thank you. Thank you. I’ll be here all week.

And by “here” I mean Canada.