My time spent in Canada this summer is short and sweet. I always experience what I call “reverse culture shock” when I return to my home country. During the time it takes to readjust to life in Canada, I seem to live a miniature life in a world where I have forgotten how to be friendly with strangers.
Life in Canada exists on a larger scale, and I feel very small in comparison to everyday objects. High ceilings, four-liter milk jugs, eggs sold in packages of at least a dozen, yogurt containers large enough to hold a basketball, ten-kilogram bags of flour, large people driving large vehicles, big trees, big houses, huge grocery stores, bigger shopping malls, and so on. For about a week after I return to Canada, I always feel like I climbed a beanstalk and entered a giant’s world.
Strangers have a very different relationship with each other in Canada compared to Poland. I am of course biased because of the language barrier, but my impression is that it is rare for strangers to strike up a conversation with one another in Poland (as well as in Sweden, for that matter). I notice that I have, in fact, trained myself to withhold as much personal information as possible, so as not to be obnoxious—I don’t want to seem conceited by assuming everyone cares about what I’m doing with my life.
The thing with Canada, though, is that people do care about what I am doing with my life! Or, perhaps more accurately, my life is a standard topic for small talk, equally as acceptable as the weather. In return, I am expected to express interest in the other person’s life. What do I study? Where do I study? Do I like it? How did I end up there? What have you done this summer? How’s the baby? Are your kids ready to go back to school? Thanks, you have a nice day too… Cashiers, waitresses, the other person in the elevator, we share these details knowing that we will not meet each other again. I’m still not used to this part of being Canadian—I continuously find myself slighty uncomfortable talking about myself, and surprised that they keep asking more questions.
Another Canadian skill I had forgotten was the art of the Sorry. Americans, please note that “sorry” should be pronounced as if you are saying “or” in the middle, not “are.” Sorry isn’t necessarily an apology; it is rather a polite acknowledgement of another person, and an indication that you are respectful and not seeking conflict.
For instance, when I was standing in the way of a man’s shopping cart at the grocery checkout:
“Sorry, I’m right behind you here…”
“Oh! Sorry.” (moves out of way, smiling)
“Thank you. Sorry.” (smiling, making eye contact)
There is a subtext to each Sorry. The first Sorry meant “Hi, excuse me.” The second Sorry was perhaps a bit apologetic, but more like a “Whoops my bad.” The third Sorry was meant as a peace offering, “I have inconvenienced you and I appreciate that you got out of my way.”
These are behaviours that are very distinctly Canadian to me, now that I’ve lived abroad for most of the last three years. In the midst of this reverse culture shock, my schedule in Canada has been punctuated with numerous appointments with the dentist, doctor, orthodontist, physiotherapist, and so on. There’s always a year’s worth of checkups to catch up on when I’m home for the summer!
Included in this list of appointments was the removal of all four of my wisdom teeth, under IV sedation (those who are medically inclined may be interested to know I was given midazolam, fentanyl, ketamine, propofol, benzocaine, and another local anesthetic I can’t remember, and post-op I took penicillin, dexamethasone, and a combined tablet with paracetamol and codeine for pain relief). I was groggy for a few days, ate mush for many days, and then began improving rapidly when my self-dissolving stitches started coming out. I am pleased to say that I am chewing solid foods once again, and I have been able to smile without pain for nearly a week now.
My recovery from the wisdom tooth removal has dominated my time in Canada so far. Luckily, I get to enjoy beautiful British Columbia for another week before jetting off to Poland again. I look forward to doing a pediatrics internship there, and soon after that, I will be a fourth year medical student! But until then, better enjoy the last bit of summer, eh?
White Rock, BC