Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Driven to Desperation
Just a quick one this week, as I'm trying to finish my articles for Friday, and that's pretty much all I've been working on so there's not a whole lot else to report. Although trying to find out about the immigrant community here has been an experience - I've interviewed a Buddhist monk, a mad Vietnamese woman, a Filipino nurse, a Laotian pastor, and various Sikh, Hindu and Muslim leaders.
What I've found out is that newcomers here are willing to work hard, settle in, and call Canada their home while keeping hold of their own culture. Most of them moved here for a better quality of life and more opportunities, and are continually grateful that they can have those things. It all seemed to be pretty positive - it left me wondering what newcomers to Britain would say about their experiences.
Speaking from my own viewpoint, I've found there generally is more opportunity here. I've only spoken to two or three editors, but their attitude seems to be: “We’ll let you show us what you can do,” rather than “Why should we let you work for us?” as I’ve found with some of the bigger British newspapers. Here, it's not so much who you know as what you know. Which is good for me cos I've got a big brain and no friends : )
Although that's changing. Last night I hung out with a few people from my home group, including one girl who grew up in northern Ontario. It's pretty rural up there, and she had some great stories about ‘Deliverance’-style inbreds with extra thumbs, missing arms and scabies (eww!). Her dad was a headmaster and often had to make visits to pupils’ homes. On approaching one house, he looked up to the second-floor window to see a horse staring back at him. When he knocked on the door, a woman answered and he told her what he'd seen.
She sighed in exasperation. “Did thayt horse git’n here agin?”
I also had a chance to give my paranoid backwoods yokel impression (“Ahm nawt payin’ ma taxes!” okay, you had to be there) which went down a storm. It’s weird that stuff I say without thinking is absolutely hilarious to Canadians. But hey, anything for a laugh.
Speaking of which, there was a glimmer of hilarity in my perpetually boring driving lessons the other day. To punctuate his monotonous drone, our teacher occasionally sticks on a cheaply made and hideously dated video about road safety. Last Thursday he excelled himself.
The video was presented by someone who'd obviously decided his nipples needed the support of his belt and wearing polo necks was cool and masculine. He'd say things like: “But Patrice, how do I control my car during a skid?” and “The human brain is like a powerful computer” (followed by a shot of a machine that filled the entire room and looked like a cross between an 8-track and a spaceship).
His narrative on how to overtake was accompanied by hilarious Atari style graphics and beeps that got faster as the cars sped up. Every now and again a ‘scientific’ looking diagram would come up showing how drivers’ brains worked, with flashing red and blue arrows labeled ‘input’, ‘processing’ and ‘output’. The best bit was when the presenter started driving round a racing circuit with a huge flashing contraption on his head, with absolutely no explanation of what it was for.
Anyway, for those of us who’d been sitting in a classroom for 4 hours (yes, lessons are that long), it was hilarious. Unfortunately we've had nothing but blackboard drawings and bits read out of books since then. Still, there's only one lesson to go and then it’s cheaper insurance, here I come! Now I just have to move out of the car crime capital of the country…
What I've found out is that newcomers here are willing to work hard, settle in, and call Canada their home while keeping hold of their own culture. Most of them moved here for a better quality of life and more opportunities, and are continually grateful that they can have those things. It all seemed to be pretty positive - it left me wondering what newcomers to Britain would say about their experiences.
Speaking from my own viewpoint, I've found there generally is more opportunity here. I've only spoken to two or three editors, but their attitude seems to be: “We’ll let you show us what you can do,” rather than “Why should we let you work for us?” as I’ve found with some of the bigger British newspapers. Here, it's not so much who you know as what you know. Which is good for me cos I've got a big brain and no friends : )
Although that's changing. Last night I hung out with a few people from my home group, including one girl who grew up in northern Ontario. It's pretty rural up there, and she had some great stories about ‘Deliverance’-style inbreds with extra thumbs, missing arms and scabies (eww!). Her dad was a headmaster and often had to make visits to pupils’ homes. On approaching one house, he looked up to the second-floor window to see a horse staring back at him. When he knocked on the door, a woman answered and he told her what he'd seen.
She sighed in exasperation. “Did thayt horse git’n here agin?”
I also had a chance to give my paranoid backwoods yokel impression (“Ahm nawt payin’ ma taxes!” okay, you had to be there) which went down a storm. It’s weird that stuff I say without thinking is absolutely hilarious to Canadians. But hey, anything for a laugh.
Speaking of which, there was a glimmer of hilarity in my perpetually boring driving lessons the other day. To punctuate his monotonous drone, our teacher occasionally sticks on a cheaply made and hideously dated video about road safety. Last Thursday he excelled himself.
The video was presented by someone who'd obviously decided his nipples needed the support of his belt and wearing polo necks was cool and masculine. He'd say things like: “But Patrice, how do I control my car during a skid?” and “The human brain is like a powerful computer” (followed by a shot of a machine that filled the entire room and looked like a cross between an 8-track and a spaceship).
His narrative on how to overtake was accompanied by hilarious Atari style graphics and beeps that got faster as the cars sped up. Every now and again a ‘scientific’ looking diagram would come up showing how drivers’ brains worked, with flashing red and blue arrows labeled ‘input’, ‘processing’ and ‘output’. The best bit was when the presenter started driving round a racing circuit with a huge flashing contraption on his head, with absolutely no explanation of what it was for.
Anyway, for those of us who’d been sitting in a classroom for 4 hours (yes, lessons are that long), it was hilarious. Unfortunately we've had nothing but blackboard drawings and bits read out of books since then. Still, there's only one lesson to go and then it’s cheaper insurance, here I come! Now I just have to move out of the car crime capital of the country…
