Canada – Some Learnings

First of all, when you say “half one” or half anything for that matter no understands what you mean. Unless you happen to be talking to someone who watches Coronation Street. And funnily enough Coronation Street is actually a pretty big deal over here. Still, better off starting to say “thirty” when talking about the time.

“Flu” can mean the achy cold we all know but it can also mean vomiting and shitting yourself. So maybe stress that when you’re talking to your co-workers.

Cheque is not a word here, you actually mean check. Shudder. The humanity.

Poutine means manna. Butter tarts are the bomb. Tim Hortons is a godsend.

Thunderstorms are incredibly loud and scary. Rain showers are just as intense but because you’re from Ireland people wll assume you’re well used to being drowned.

Things will make you well up inexplicably, like a co-worker mentioning that she’s going to dinner with her mom after work and you wish that you could just casually go meet your mum. Instead of trying to arrange a video call that is at a decent time for both.

Word spreads quickly about where one can get Cadbury’s and Lucozade. Never mind that literally anything you could ever wish for is candy-wise can be got at the corner 24 hour mom and pop store. You can relive your favourite scary movie by making jiffy-pop, jiffy-pop!!!! And also candy comes in little cardboard boxes, how cool is that?

Random things that are left on the sidewalk (see how well I’m assimilating?) are up for grabs. Grabber beware though, I once had a look through a china set to be greeted by a squashed spider at the bottom of a cup.

Lastly, milk is sold in these massive gallon bags. Which will always be weird. Always,

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One Comment Add yours

  1. I live in Viet Nam I buy my milk in bags too, from four women stirring about 50 litres of milk in a cauldron, they’re located down three alleyways off a main street, there are chickens everywhere. One of the women comes over and strokes my arm while I wait – it took me by surprise the first time, but it’s cool now. Another lady comes over and helps me hang the bags of milk on my motorbike for maximum balance. Everyone waves as I leave.

    Still not as weird as that check and cheque thing…

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