Subtle Differences

When I found out we were moving to Canada, I was excited for many reasons and a little nervous.  I was scared it wouldn't be foreign enough for us; we'd gotten spoiled by Ecuador, I figured.  The truth is, I figured Canada would be "America light," like it always seemed in the movies when I was younger.  I knew before arriving that Canadians say "Eh," a lot; and, to be honest, that stereotype is well-deserved.  But Canada is so much more cosmopolitan than I ever could have ever imagined.  The funny thing about that is that it's not something I realize every single day.  However, the idea of Ottawa being a cosmopolitan city was never more apparent than on my trip home today.

While walking from work to our car, we passed a man selling fruit.  As another man, a customer, was walking up to inspect his wares, the vendor smiled and said, "Bonjour."  Without missing a beat, the prospective customer continued toward the vendor and answered in exactly the same tone with, "Hello."  It's the same when we go back and forth across the border.  Whenever we are crossing back into Canada, the immigration  officer always says, "Bonjour/Hello!"  But "Bonjour" is always first.  It might be because we always seem to have the same border agent when we enter ha ha and that his first language happens to be French rather than English.  Or maybe that's just the way they're trained.  Who knows, and it's not important.  What amazes me is that the dual national language system in Canada seems to work.  At least, as a non-native, it works for me.  This topic, between Canadians, can be quite tense; and it is one that I would never try to insinuate myself into here.

  I can understand a pretty fair bit of French now--more than I ever could when I was dating a native French speaker and nearly minoring in the language.  I can thank two years in Ecuador for that, I am quite sure.  And I can read French without even thinking about it, which is pretty awesome too.  But I did not grow up with two languages.  I mean, sure, there is a lot of Cajun French in South Louisiana; but it is not widespread by a stretch.  I never grew up hearing it at all, although I am positive some of my friends did.  My uncle/godfather was actually whipped in elementary school because he couldn't speak English.  I know that South Louisiana has moved far, far away from its (self) hatred of Cajun French and that some schools are actually teaching the language now.  I think this is an amazing step toward the right direction, not to mention a great way to give many Louisianians back some of their heritage.  The movement toward reviving Cajun French in the schools in South Louisiana is quite similar (although on a minute scale) to the Quebecois and the Silent Revolution here in Canada, where the native French speakers fought long and hard to have their language and their heritage recognized by the Anglophones.

Now, let me say right now that I am neither advocating nor opposing the Quebecois or the Silent Revolution; but it is just uncanny how much of my culture and my fellow South Louisianians' culture can be found here in Canada.  When I first moved here, I was talking to someone at work.  I swear I thought he was from "down the bayou" as we'd say back home; but he's just from Quebec and is a native French speaker.  It is absolutely astonishing to me that after centuries and thousands of miles, and several generations, etc., the Quebecois English accent is the same as the Cajun/Acadian English accent of today.  It makes me so homesick, honestly.