You know, when people talk about cultural differences, I think reflexively people think of very different places to the one in which they currently live in like Cambodia, India, China, Germany, and, well, my geography sucks so that’s all I can think of right now. Toronto is one of the most multicultural centres on this planet, if not the most. Some say it is one of Toronto’s strengths, others its weekness. I live in a city where if you smile a nod to someone as they pass you in the street, they give you a odd look that says what do you want? That if you hold a door for someone, they get offended because they assume you mean that they can’t do it for themselves. That if someone sees you walking toward an elevator as they get in, they just push the button (usual to a floor near the top of course) and leave you cursing them under your breath as you wait for the damn thing to come all the way back down. That if you cross the street with your right of way, cars will edge toward you as they are making their turn as if you are not walking fast enough (and for those who know me, I walk bloody fast enough!). That if its too hot, they complain, That if its too cold, they complain. That if its raining, they complain. Its become so rampant, that television commercials have actually used this annoying need for us to all complain that they have worked it into their advertisements. (I am actually being serious!) And what do I do? I complain about it in a blog!
That is the bad part.
The worse part is that I, for a while, was becoming numb to it all and was accepting because this was not the way it always was here. This change did not happen over night, or in the course of a month or year. This took several years to evolve into what I have very loosely described above. It happened so slowly that I didn’t even notice and every so often found myself on the other side of the equation; frantically pushing the elevator button, willing the door to close faster so that I didn’t have to ride up with some annoying Torontonian! Pretty bad, huh?
Well it took a trip to Scotland to smack me upside the head and ask me what the hell was I doing? Everyone has bad days. No matter where you go, there is going to be Mr. Elevator man jacking you the middle finger as the doors close moments before you arrive, even in Scotland. In fact, I think it would be a boring place that wasn’t peppered with those people. But I want it to be the EXCEPTION, not the norm. Michelle and I had so many conversations about how generally nice people are in Scotland especially compared to Torontonians, something that was lost on me when I lived there many, many years ago.
Then we got home. And I know what you are thinking. You fell right back into the Torontonian way. Well, we did but not before our friends got a hold of us first. Michelle and I came home to them doing something very sweet. They made swans with towels at the end of the bed, covered out bed with rose petals, a “congratulations” card, and left a bottle of champagne in the fridge for us. Nice huh? Well in the true Torontonian way where no good deed can ever really be taken at face value, not only were we asked when they could pick up their towels, not only did they come over the next day and drink the very same bottle of champagne they left us, they left our house a dump! They left pizza boxes with dried out pizza still in them, dirty plates with pizza crusts, and pop bottles lying around. When your friends are like this, its no wonder people you don’t know are they way they are.
Most don’t see Scotland or England as all that culturally different from Canada. I can tell you from my experience that it is as different as night and day. And I am sick of the night.
- Will
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