Hello, Canada!

Dear reader, you will find below the first entry in a…well I’m not sure how long it will be yet, but let’s just say…multi-series tale about my recent trip to Canada to visit a friend who lives in Edmonton aka central Canada. Although this is quite a jump in time and life since I last spoke to you – my last entry was written during my bar study period – I plan to write an update soon about the bar and what has been going on after very soon. In the meantime, here are some travel experiences I will share…

Early Friday morning on the last day of August (that sounds a bit more poetic than: on August 31, 2009 at 9 am) I left the comfort of my home in Portland, Oregon (well, Lake Oswego actually, but no one but a Portlander and the US Postal Service notices or cares about the difference, so we’ll just go with Portland) to visit my good friend Zenia whom I became close friends with while travelling to SE Asia two years ago. (For more on that trip, see my SE Asia blog: Adventures of a Bookworm Abroad.) Somehow we had let two entire years slip by without seeing each other, keeping in touch only through monthly phone calls and the internet. But finally, following the end of law school (a topic for another day) and taking the bar (also for another day), we were able to find some time for me to fly to Canada for a visit. So, ready for the long weekend and a long anticipated reunion, I headed off for the country we Americans often refer to as: “Oh yeah, Canada. I forgot it was up there.” (It’s often amusing to consider how your country thinks about surrounding nations. For instance, Canada is often a secondary thought to Americans and most of the time we consider it a non-entity, somehow not worthy of American concern or any real consideration. This probably has something to do with the lack of real military – after all, we would pay much more attention to Canadians if they were of a militant mindset – their stubborn retention of pseudo-colonial status – the Queen of England is still on most their money, has many of the roads named after her, and lawyers in Canada must take an oath to the Queen before being admitted to practice the law despite their continuous proclamations that they are independent from England – and the funny way they say the words “out” and “sorry”. Countries often have very disparaging views of surrounding nations.)

Zenia lives in central Canada, in Edmonton, which is in the Province of Alberta and directly above Montana if you need a US reference point. While I have visited Canada before on family vacations, my family and I have always stuck to the edges of Canada, visiting the coastal regions of Nova Scotia and British Columbia. Now, however, I was off to see something of the rest of Canada (well, relatively the rest as Canada is quite large and I was only going to visit two different cities in Alberta). The flight from Portland to Edmonton is not difficult and actually quite quick, but with a transfer in Seattle that takes just enough time such that the journey consumes most of one day what with having to be at the airport two hours early for international flights. Still, it was an easily accomplished journey.

Flying into Edmonton was quite an eye opener. I don’t know why I expected Canada differ in looks from the United States. There is just something about national boundaries that suggests the landscape and wildlife between two countries should be vastly different. But if you consulted a map that didn’t show the dividing line between the US and Canada you would see that those two countries actually comprise a single continent and flow seamlessly into one another and it is only our perceptions of them that split the area in two. Thus, flying into Edmonton I was treated with views of verdant gently rolling hills on the outskirts, a patch-worked landscape of farm land often dividing by meandering streams, creeks, and rivers not so different from what I was used to in the US. As we flew closer and closer to our destination the most telling difference I could see between the US and Canada is that Canadian landowners seem content to allow their water bodies to flow in any direction they so choose. When you see the US from the sky it is immediately noticeable that, except for the major rivers, all creeks and smaller water bodies are carefully regimented to flow in straight lines. No longer do US water ways flow in gently arcs and sharp curves, but rather they are forced to flow in straight lines at the edges of plots, trapped within the confines of ditches and culverts. Canadians have not followed this tradition and instead have built their properties around the naturally flowing streams, allowing them to cut and bisect their land into strange shapes and odd angles, often leaving a vividly green buffer between the stream and the start of the farmed land. It’s a beautiful picture, a gentle melding of nature and man’s use of the land.

We touched down in Canada and as this was my first port of entry into the country I was immediately shuffled off the plane and toward passport control. I can only assume after my experience there that I am an incredibly shifty character. I have always assumed that I have a trustworthy face, but clearly the Canadians do not agree. As I handed over my passport and my declaration card to the passport agent I underwent a close scrutiny and asked a barrage of questions:

Agent: Where are you from?

Me: Portland, Oregon.

Agent: Why are you visiting Canada?

Me: For pleasure.

*Long pause as Agent stares at me with a blank face*

Me (nervously): To visit a friend.(?)

Agent: Who?

Me: My friend, Zenia Toor.

Agent: How do you know this friend?

Me: We used to travel together in SE Asia.

Agent (more suspiciously): How long are you staying?

Me: Only 5 days.

Agent: Where are you going?

Me: To Edmonton and Banff for the weekend.

Agent: Have you been to Canada before?

Me: Yes, but only to the coastal regions so this is my first visit to central Cana…

Agent (now realizing he’s made me so nervous that I won’t stop talking until he lets me into the country): Fine. You can go. Next!

I’m not sure if the agent actually believed everything I said at the end of our conversation or if he just wanted to get rid of me at that point since I had clearly started on a long saga of my trip plans, but whatever the reason I had arrived in Canada and cleared the first hurdle. Having packed smart for this trip, I had no checked baggage and simply had to hand my now stamped declaration card to the folks at baggage inspection and I was ushered through a set of doors that said “Welcome to Edmonton” clearing the second and final hurdle into Canada in no time. I had arrived.

Zenia was there waiting for me and after a long hug and some giddy exclamations we were off. Our first point of destination was Zenia’s house, located a mere 30 minutes from the airport, just south of Edmonton. I was informed on the plane and upon arrival that summer really ended last week in Canada and I was coming during the no man’s land of in between summer and fall. This would make the weather somewhat unpredictable and it was entirely likely that it could go from pouring rain and freezing temperatures to sunny, warm weather in just a couple hours. Basically, the weather would be very similar to Portland. When I arrived, however, the weather was beautiful and Canada seemed to be welcoming me with open arms. We drove toward Edmonton and went to Zenia’s house which is located on the southern edge of the city in a suburb. Although I had heard a great deal about Zenia’s family and had even talked to them a time or two on the phone during our travels to SE Asia and in the two years since then, this was our first meeting. Her immediate family living at her house in Edmonton consists of her two parents and her grandmother. I was greeted with warm smiles and hugs all around upon arrival, but Zenia had plans to go out that couldn’t wait and I was quickly shuffled back out after placing my bag in my designated room.

We headed back out to the car and were off to the city, heading to an area known as White Ave, shorthand for the main street White Avenue, located near the University of Alberta where Zenia went to college. Evidently most Canadian kids tend to go to college in the same town in which they were raised, rarely venturing out to new parts of the country until graduate school or for travel if they ever leave their Province at all. This is quite a difference from what I was used to. In the US kids almost always go to a new city or even a new state upon leaving for college and it is incredibly rare (and somewhat frowned upon) to go to a college nearby unless it is a community college. And so, after a quick look at Zenia’s alma mater, we parked her car and headed to White Ave for dinner.

We ate at what can only be called a hipster bar. “Hipster” is a term that has been coined fairly recently and is somewhat difficult to describe although very easy to spot. Generally, a hipster is someone around 20-30 years old, who is decently well off, secretly uptight, pretends to be easy going, drinks a lot of beer, and wears a lot of plaid and skinny jeans. Just keep this term in your mind and even without knowing an exact definition, you’ll know a hipster when you see one. The restaurant, Sugar Bowl, was a great deal of fun and had excellent food. Being so closely located to a university it was naturally packed, but after only a short wait we were shown to a table. There can be no complaints about the foot in Canada. I have found that often Canadian restaurants offer a blend of cuisines, incorporating American food, various European foods, some Asian, and, occasionally, Mexican options on the menus. I’m not sure what Canadian’s consider to be purely “Canadian food,” beyond maple syrup of course, but often the local restaurants offered this blend. The Canadian’s do have one failing on the food front, however – like the Portlanders, the Canadians are obsessed with dairy and try to incorporate dairy into almost everything they make. At one restaurant during my trip…but that story is for another day. For now, we’ll leave it with a simple statement that Canada’s dairy love makes it very hard to have allergies in this country.

After eating a hefty meal it was quite late and after a long day of travel that had begun at 9 am in Portland and concluded at 5:30 pm on my arrival in Canada, I was tired and ready to head home. So back to Zenia’s home we went. Zenia and I did manage to stay up late, however, watching Bollywood movies in her basement, much to my delight. (If you have yet to experience the delight of Bollywood, you are seriously missing out and should spend some time rectifying this deficiency in your education as soon as possible.) While the first day of any trip is generally sparse on news as it usually involves a great deal of travel, it can also offer insight into how the rest of the trip will likely progress. In this case, my travels had been easy and smooth and so, with three and a half more days to go, I was sure to have a great deal of fun.