musings on being Canadian

I’m American.  And so is every other Canadian.

Oh, and Mexican, Chilean, Bolivian, Peruvian, Argentinian, Brazilian … and the list goes on.

Basically, any and all individual who calls a country in either of the Americas (or any of the 3 Americas, if you count Central America as a separate entity) is … American.

So I guess it seems to me that it’s unfair that US citizens get a monopoly on that term, and they get to refer to their country as “America.” Can't I say I'm American, too?  Unfortunately not, seeing that, in today's world, referring to myself as "American" means I'm from the US.  And that's not true.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve corrected someone.  “No, I’m not American. I’m Canadian.”  Because yes, there IS a difference.

My sister was recently cruising in Alaska, and on one of their landlubbing adventures, they took a trek into the Yukon (that’s one of 3 Canadian territories up in the north, where you’re most likely to find igloos. But only in the winter, not year-round; they have beautiful, warm summers there, too!).  The tour guide kept telling them that there would be an obvious difference once they crossed into Canada. 

“Can you see it? Feel it?” asked the guide.

When no one answered, he said, “Free health care!”

But that’s not all. We’ve got a different – and bilingual – history.  Okay, some could argue that the States have a bilingual history, too.  Still, it’s not the same.  We have a different system of government. We have a smaller population and more land. We have different-coloured money. We have a “u” that we like to stick in random words. We can lay claim to some of the greatest hockey players that ever lived, the invention of the telephone, the first female astronaut, and many other things. 

And most importantly, Canada is the original home of the Tim Horton’s franchise. 

Go to any of our major cities, and you will see a beautiful mosaic of different cultures, an eclectic mix of architecture that is often influenced by the different cultures, and beautiful, natural scenery, all in one place.

A. May. Zing.  Love it.

Please do not misunderstand me; the US is a beautiful country with a lot to offer as well. I’ve seen some amazing sights south of the border, I’ve been known to enjoy American movies and television programming, many great minds and people have come out of that country (Steve Jobs, Stephen Hawking, Sheldon Cooper and the list goes on …), and the Americans I have been privileged to know are proud and fiercely loyal to their country.  Not to mention, they’re pretty cool people.

I’m not trying to say that Canadians are better.  We’re just … different.  And I like it.

Canada is … was … (is?) home.  Just like my particular city in China is now home.  Sort of.  And I have a hard time believing that any other city in this country that I may one day traipse through – temporarily  or otherwise – will ever feel quite like this one. But then again, I think I wondered that when I first got here.

What’s interesting, though, is that people automatically assume that I’m American. And when I tell people I’m not American, they often wonder where I’m from. I speak English flawlessly (in my humble opinion, anyway …), but I’m white and I don’t speak with an Aussie, Kiwi or any of the United Kingdom accents, so there is often uncertainty about my origins.

As if Canada is an unknown place. 

Here's another one that doesn't quite sit right with me ... In Chinese, America is Meiguo.  Direct translation: beautiful country.  

And Canada is stuck with Jianada.  And I haven't been able to find a direct translation into English for it online; it's as if no one's ever bothered to give a direct translation for it. Or else it doesn't matter?

 

That’s strange to me.  America is no better than Canada. And, for the record, Canada is no better than America.  Yet, somehow America has managed to take words that refer to the continent and applied them to themselves.  And get possibly the best name for a country ever in Chinese.

Not fair. 

 

Still. I wear my flag proudly on my luggage, as I sport my tuque, eat a Poutine and watch a lacrosse game.

Actually, I’ve never seen a lacrosse game. But I do own several tuques, and I stuff myself full of Poutine whenever I can...

 

Here's one company's perspective on what it means to be Canadian ....