Oh, Canada…

Points North

By James Fife

The transition between our present life in California and the coming life in Victoria goes in fits and starts as we split time between the two homes for now. As a result, some of the acculturation comes in 'packages'; certain events or activities bring a new realization to the fore of what is different (or the same) about our bi-national lives. A couple of these 'packages' we received recently fall under the headings of Patriotism and Food.

We were excited about the idea of spending our first Canada Day in Victoria. Some Canadians I knew in San Diego had assured me that there was nothing special to be learned from the experience. Apparently the only 'culture' we were likely to be exposed to was the microbial sort associated with fermentation of malt. Still, at the very least, people had told us from the start that we were sure to have a wonderful view of the fireworks over the Inner Harbour from our new home, and that sounded promising. As it turned out, we were led a little astray on both counts. It's true, there was a lot of downing of fermented brew come our first Canada Day, but we also did experience some very enlightening cultural encounters. And the view of the fireworks was unfortunately not quite as awesome as we had built up in our minds.

What we found out is that Canada Day does resemble the Fourth of July in the U.S. in several broad ways. The drinking, yes. The more benign picnicking, yes. The mass of outdoor activities of a "patriotic" nature, yes. And just like Americans who have a tendency to forget what it's all about unless someone uses the alternate phrase Independence Day, it seemed that a lot of what was going on around us in Celebration Place and Bastion Square had little to make one think, ah, yes, this must be Confederation Day. So, the overall mood and course of events looked very familiar after all.

But there were noticeable differences as well. There was a lot of Red and White without the Blue. And a human Maple Leaf Flag set out on the lawn of the Legislative Assembly was unique. But the more impressive difference we detected -- in the style of festivities and the attitude of the crowd -- went deeper. It reminded me of something I had learned from years of living in Wales: there's a difference between Big Country nationalism (with its focus on expanding its influence over others) and Little Country nationalism (with its focus on survival and getting along). We definitely felt an absence of the chest-thumping patriotism we had seen as typical of 4^th of July sentiments. The Canada Day ethos was different, right down to the multicultural entertainment on the big stage and its feeling of inclusiveness, not the Us-versus-Them that often clings to U.S. celebrations.

And while there's probably no more tangible reflection of nationality than food, our experiences with Canadian food was creating the same sort of cantilevered effect of similarity on one level and then difference at another. In the first place, we were trying to figure out what could be considered a national food in both countries. Food considered typically American is famously not born in the U.S.A. We think of German-derived hamburgers, Italian-derived pizza, Mexican-derived tacos. One has to start combing through a century-old cookbook to find more regional dishes that are home-grown.

I have to admit it was hard at first to see anything in Canada that was any different. The food scene looked rather familiar, though with the natural differences in local food stocks. But this would not fully distinguish Victoria from Seattle. The traces of uniqueness that were immediately apparent were, like in the U.S., ethnic foods adopted as mainstream. 

I'm talking poutine here. I recall learning about it first in Quebec, but now we've seen it as a food-truck staple at every outdoor event we've been to. And once you see a poster for it in a Burger King window, the mainstreaming of poutine is complete. Although I have not yet built up the courage to indulge, I'm glad it is there, since it confirms the pattern. Canadians and Americans share the common trait of nationalizing our ethnic specialties and making them serve as the emblematic food, while we equally reach out to internationalize our menus. So, we share the same 'fusion' craze that gives us the oddities of our Indonesian style Spanish tapas using Caribbean jerk chicken. Hmm. Maybe poutine is not so exotic after all.

Similar patterns or frameworks applied in both countries, but the content of those patterns differs to create a rather new experience. That could explain the continuing, pleasant experience of comfort (at the basically familiar) spiced with eye-catching differences (the uniquely Canadian substance put into the frame). 

But I will end by saying one recent experience shows an interesting inversion of the rule: the national elections in both countries. In this case, the frameworks are very different. In the U.S., we know to the precise date when the next national election will occur, whereas Canadians are left constantly in the dark when the next visitation will be. It's like some Roman high priests withdraw to read the entrails of goats until the right signs appear and they emerge to shout "Parliament is dissolved!" 

You would think that would make Canadians always on alert to an election and so the campaigning becomes full-time. But just the opposite: Americans always know just when the election will be, and yet we start the ball rolling a year and a half or more ahead of it. As interminable as the latest Canada canvas may have seemed, it was over and done with in much less time than down south, allowing Canadians to get back to the important task of grumbling about the results. 

So the frameworks are very different indeed. But to judge from what I've now seen of a federal election in Canada, the content is essentially identical. After all, politicians are politicians, whether they try to impress voters by downing a hot dog or scarfing a bowl of poutine. And maybe that's one more commonality Americans and Canadians can share, even if it's not as pleasant a one as our shared love of doughnuts.