Canadians are famous for being nice, and it's a pretty well-deserved reputation in my experience. I've run into a few rude Canadians of course, but infrequently enough that it surprises me. (I've noted two situational exceptions: 1) being on a bicycle-- something about two wheels brings out the worst in the Canadian, or perhaps Torontonian, temper; and 2) being on the soccer pitch. I have not been able to play much lately while I recover from a sprained knee, but when I could, gee willikers, some of the women on the teams we encountered could be harsh, as I'm sure those women would say --did say-- about my own team.)
However, those exceptions aside, courtesy does stand out for me as a predominant attribute in my new country. I have a theory that the Canadian propensity for niceness and tolerance is linked to another Canadian trait I notice, which is a Scots-like tendency to dourness, evident in a national commitment to vicarious suffering. Recently my son's friend told me how much she is enjoying one of her high-school classes called 'Crimes Against Humanity,' which explores the subject of genocide in detail and depth. This class is not the whim of an individual teacher, but a registered, approved course on the Ontario high school curriculum. It is offered by the Toronto District School Board and several other boards in the province. For comparative purposes, I tried to find a similar one on the website of my own alma mater, the Los Angeles Unified School District. Nada.
I thought of this course when I listened last week to a radio talk show from the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC), called 'The Current'. The program covers timely topics each weekday morning at 8:30 am, but only timely topics that are also distressing and/or depressing. Recent episodes include the shutdown of a centre for disabled people in a remote northern town, mistreatment of elephants somewhere, freight train drivers falling asleep at the wheel, and the overprescription of opioids for chronic pain. At the show's core is the imperative to unfurl suffering and wave it in the face of listeners engaged in drinking their morning coffee or commuting to work. I try, I really do, to join in the rending of clothes and the daubing of ashes, but most mornings somewhere around 8:35 I give up and switch to BBC (thank god for the internet). I feel sure that the Canadians, being a lot nicer than me, carry on listening and empathizing while they finish the last of their Tim Hortons (no apostrophe) double-double.
I cannot even bear to drink Tim Hortons no-apostrophe coffee. Sometimes I really worry that I may be unfit to become Canadian.
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