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I am living the canadian dream!

7/1/2014

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Since I was a child, I've always wanted to see "le grand nord'. Pictures of the Rockies, grizzly bears and dog sleighs have fed my childhoods imagination for years. When Europe started to open up and English became a requirement for many jobs, I decided I needed to master it. Did I want to go to England since it was closer? Not exotic enough in my opinion. This was my opportunity to finally see the beautiful land I have read and dreamed about. 
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I arrived in Vancouver on November 7th and until the following March, it rains everyday. “Mon Dieu!”

I am an aggressive french driver and found the speed limit too low and the people too hesitant and cautious. I guess I also am an aggressive walker, when I arrived last at a bus stop, it is normal for me to pass in front of the line up and get in first. I don’t see what the fuss is about when people complain about my behavior.

I learned new words daily like “Jay walking” which doesn’t have a french translation because in France, we cross the streets anywhere anytime and it’s not considered an offense. I’m often baffled by abbreviation which are not found in the dictionary such as TGIF, R & R, or TLC and I’m too proud to ask someone the meaning. This generation is probably LOL about my confusion. Twenty years ago, there was no Google, we actually used real books!


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Everything here seemed big: large houses, wide roads, big cars, lots of space, big malls, big movie theaters and big people. Also everything here seemed to be the longest and the biggest. In Toronto, Young Street is the longest, there is the biggest bookstore, the best burger in the world and the highest tower (at the time the CN Tower was the tallest structure). Do Canadian need to compensate for something?

At first, everything seemed modern, advanced and better in my eyes. Yet some mysteries remained: the way I have to pull a cord to have the bus stop. A cord? Really? Isn't that archaic? In France, we press a "stop" button. 

And what's with the way they dress here? Always casual, wearing jeans or track pants. The food portions are enormous and I don't think my french palate likes the Macaroni and cheese dish from the pre-packaged box or the monstrous pizza slices with the thick dough. All you can eat? I don’t get that concept either. And why is cheddar orange? isn’t cow milk cream color? At the supermarket, why is there a whole aisle dedicated to chips and soda? Or one just for cereals? Does anyone cook from scratch?

And let's not talk about Canadian men. After being here for a few months, I realize, not one man has approached me, winked at me or whistled: rien! Am I that ugly? I start to seriously wonder if my mom has lied to me all this years telling me I am beautiful.

I have never seen so many Tv channels and so many commercials in the middle of a movie, it is very annoying. I am used to choose from 6 channels and commercials are only before and after the show.


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These my first impressions, today I am a proud Canadian! I can sing the Canadian anthem in English and in French and I like it better than the bloody, gory french one. 

I have been ice skating on the Ottawa canal, Dog sleighed around Mont Tremblant, Skidoo in northern Ontario, whitewater rafting in Jasper, hiked above lake Louise and kayaked on Vancouver Island. Canada is breathtaking and so much open space still boggles my mind. I have crossed the whole country twice, once in summer and once in winter and both times were magical and surreal. I flew to beautiful New Foundland, to see Whales and puffins, and went fishing for mackerel. I have pan handled for fool's gold in Yukon, skied in Whistler, and seen grizzlies, cougars, coyotes and even spotted a lynx or two. 

I watch CFL with my husband and have been to a Grey Cup final, seating just a few rows from Gordon Campbell and seen Jean Chretien lining up at the HotDog stand. I eat popcorn at the movies, make PBJ sandwiches and eat sushi, fried rice, Dahl, and my personal favorite Pacific smoked salmon. I love Okanagan wine, maple sirup on a beaver tail, and Nanaimo bars. I wear a baseball cap when I run, a hockey jersey during the Olympics to support the Canadian team, gumboots on a rainy day while walking my yellow Labrador in the trails surrounding my neighborhood, and a Roots jacket because it looks cool. I love the fact that I can wear Yoga pants to work and not look out of place.

I really appreciate that men don’t hackle or harass me when I’m walking down the street. My husband is a very handsome Canadian man who looks hot in a nice pair of jeans and treats me as an equal. 

I love this multi-ethnicity way of living. I have learned so much about other cultures since being here and without traveling the world. My best friend is a Canadian Ismali whose family comes from Uganda. My other great friend is from Quebec and when we speak, we use franglais as it comes naturally and makes so much sense to me now. 

I speak both national languages (granted I am still trying to master this damn english, pardon my french), I practice and teach Chinese Medicine, wore a Sari at my best friend’s wedding, and every week I have coffee with my Polish friend to whom I speak Italian with. I vote, pay my taxes, give to charity and enjoy driving at a safer speed. 


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Canadians are known for being nice. What’s wrong with that? I love how people are polite and sensitive to my feelings, how they never make fun of my accent (not in front of me anyway), how politically correct they often try to be and how their intent is never to offend. They don’t go on strike every two minutes like french people do, they don’t butt in front of me in a line up (last week at the theater, one man actually did cut in, but I’m sure he was french). Have I offended someone? So sorry.  After all I wasn’t born here, it’s not in my DNA, but I try most of the time. I am Canadian and proud of it even though I still don’t like orange cheddar. 

As a child I would have never imagine I could be fortunate enough to live here and become a citizen. Canada is forever my home. 
THIS is my Canadian dream!


Happy Canada Day!
Clara Cohen

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