So spring has sprung here in Canada, even in some of the most frozen, buried under heaps of snow parts of Canada like Saskatchewan and Ontario. I’m in Ottawa most of this week, tagging along on Tom’s work trip and taking the opportunity to see a bit more of my home country. After my first full day in the city, here are my observations:
Canada really is bilingual! Or at least Ottawa is, much more so than Vancouver. It seems every other person I meet is speaking French, the signs are much more rigorously bilingual, and all the help wanted signs on shops and cafes list bilingualism as a requirement of the job.
I was even shouted at in French today, halfway over the bridge between Gatineau and Ottawa. A very polished looking French-speaking jogger wearing the latest in athletic performance fabrics and a perfect ponytail of blond highlights went past me shouting something I didn’t understand and pointing at her ass. Was there something wrong with my ass? Did I sit in something horrible? It turns out my admission ticket for the museum of civilization was sticking out of my pocket a little. In retrospect, I should have known that she was talking about my pocket when she said “poche” and not “derierre”, but I have a tendency to realize that I did actually understand something said in French only after the moment has passed.
If Vancouver is a sandal-wearing, long haired games programmer who works from his apartment overlooking the beach two days a week, Ottawa is a razor sharp politician in a perfectly tailored suit. There is a distinct lack of hippie, with a corresponding lack of patchouli and prayer flags. Even the ByWard market, which I was hoping would be a groovy mix of traditional cheap market clothes and lots of fresh fruit and veg vendors is actually a whole lot of gastro pubs and cheap market wares. I guess those sharply dressed businessmen have to go somewhere to unwind.
So far, it’s been fun. One of the highlights of the day was the cat shelter behind parliament hill – we went there specifically to see the cats and found a big old raccoon there instead, shoving food into his mouth as fast as he could. Then he turned around and washed his little raccoon hands and face in the water dish.

Filed under:
Uncategorized by michelle