Culture shock began before I got there. After making some preliminary calls about renting a room in a private house, I came home to a lengthy message on my answering machine from a Torontonian I’d spoken to briefly a few days before. He was calling to let me know that his room had been rented. But he wanted my address so he could send me some material about accommodations and the schedule for a festival I had mentioned. He’d clipped it from the newspaper.
I was in disbelief. Who bothers to make a long-distance call to a no-longer prospective tenant–and a complete stranger–to give helpful information? If all Canadians were this considerate, I thought, it would take some getting used to.
My amazement continued after I arrived. Subway stations had public restrooms that were actually clean and in working order. When I pulled out a map, never more than two minutes elapsed before someone stopped to offer directions. LITTER IN ITS PLACE PLEASE reads the gentle request on the trash cans. And it is: the streets are nearly spotless. Pedestrian crosswalks are marked with yellow X’s. You hold out your hand, like a princess with a magic wand, and the cars stop.
Canada has a flourishing social contract, and it shows in ways both large and small. Civility and thoughtfulness create a livability that contrasts markedly with many American cities. Here, we often lack the sense that each person is part of a larger collective, with rights and responsibilities. While Americans may ridicule Canadians for their politeness, it improves the quality of daily life.
Canadians treat even strangers with respect and sensitivity. In response, I found myself becoming more considerate. I made sure to apologize if my backpack bumped someone and refrained from pushing in crowds. In Canada, there is a calmness and a sense of safety. I felt that if something bad happened, I would be taken care of. My protective armor–that shell that causes me to grip my purse tightly and always keep a wary eye open-fell away.
This sense of security has a very real basis. Canada is a more egalitarian society than the United States, with less income disparity and a European-style social safety net that protects people who lose their jobs or fall ill. Thirty percent of Canada’s gross domestic product is spent on social programs, compared with 20 percent in the United States. Gun-control laws are strict, and the crime rate is a fraction of ours.
Yet Canadians have a serious Second Country complex. “What do Americans think of Canada?” they would ask me, looking for a sign that it matters–or, perhaps, affirmation of their suspicion that in fact it doesn’t. The U.S.- Canadian relationship is complicated. Canadians evince pride in their country, yet wonder what its appeal could be to an American. They wax poetic about Americans’ openness, while at the same time deriding us as ignorant, isolationist and violent.
Canada is especially vulnerable to the influence of the world’s most powerful nation. Of Canada’s 30 million residents–about the same population as California–eight out of 10 live within 100 miles of the United States. It is easy for a Canadian to feel that much of his or her everyday world is American. At the movie theaters, I noticed that seven out of eight films playing were American. No wonder Canadians boast about the genuine article. They never refer to comic Howie Mandel. It’s always “Canadian comic Howie Mandel.” And Labatt’s beer is “Labatt’s Canadian beer.”
Our Founding Fathers forged a new nation by throwing off the British monarchy and an intrusive government. They fought for independence and the supremacy of the individual. Canada was populated by loyalists favoring the status quo. That attitude still prevails. You can see it in their acceptance of a greater governmental presence in their lives and their respect for authority.
Canada’s perpetual identity crisis is undergoing a test on which its future could hinge. When I was there, I found that the question of Quebee’s sovereignty dominated the news. Even Canadians with relatively secure employment worried about the future of their jobs in the face of globalization and the North American Free Trade Agreement. With rightist politicians, notably those elected recently in Ontario, dismantling social programs, friends and acquaintances expressed concern that American problems, such as homelessness, will show up there.
In his recent book, “Nationalism Without Walls: The Unbearable Lightness of Being Canadian,” political commentator Richard Gwyn discusses Canadians’ weak national sense of self. “At some point, the lightness of identity may become unbearable,” he writes. “We’ll let it slip away, scarcely noticing that it’s gone.” Gwyn asserts that Canada’s identity is based on the ideals of civility, tolerance and egalitarianism, which must be safeguarded if Canada is to remain cohesive. I, too, felt that this sense of social responsibility is central to what is genuinely Canadian.
Canada does have a national identity. Even if it is less dramatic than America’s, it is worth taking pride in and protecting. I hope our Canadian friends realize this and do everything they can to safeguard the qualities that make their nation special. Americans would do well to learn more about our peaceable neighbor. I would like to know that there is always a place north of the border where civility prevails and where I can truly exhale. And if that becomes more of a possibility here, too, so much the better.
