So...where have I been?
After Maine, I headed through New York into Toronto, Canada, where I had my first border experience. Having researched border crossings the evening before, I knew I should be truthful (not a problem for me) and refrain from any humor-intentioned comments (apparently, border agents have no sense of humor).
After an hour's wait, I pulled up to the agent, rolled down my windows, and removed my sunglasses and hat. He felt no need to reciprocate, big black sunglasses shielding me from his humanity, ignoring my cheery "hello," taking my passport, beginning the interrogation.
"Where do you live?"
Hmmm. Tough one. I stammered as I responded, "Florida.....I guess." Man, that was a difficult question. I wonder if he noticed my nervousness.
"What do you do?"
"Teacher," I automatically replied. "But I quit," I quickly added. Okay, Julie, you are not passing this test. Do better. Telling the truth is tricky sometimes.
"Why are you coming to Canada?"
"To see friends." Easy one.
"How long will you be here?"
"A week? Two? I don't know for sure." Does it matter? Do I need to have better plans? Is he going to give me a time limit?
"Are you traveling with anything other than clothes and personal items? Any food, produce, alcohol, tobacco?"
"Uhhh...yeah. I have everything that I didn't give away when I left Florida. I'm on a road trip. I have camping gear..."
"So what is your final destination?" he interrupted.
"California."
"Do you have a place to live when you arrive in California?" Well, it is so nice to see that he is interested in my welfare.
"I'll be staying with my son and his wife for awhile."
"Do you have a job lined up?" Wow! I mean, I just want to go visit my friends in Canada! I really don't get why this is important, but I know not to make border agents mad: I didn't want to be selected for inspection, not because I have anything to hide, but because of the hassle--my car was totally packed.
"I'll get one when the time comes," I said confidently.
"Go on," he said sternly while handing me my passport.
"Thank you!" I happily responded. And I was free once again.
Free in Canada for sixteen days (yeah, I stayed longer than two weeks) where I had to undergo the trials of learning to live in a foreign country. Adapting is not always easy. For months I had driven through neighborhoods where the American flag is displayed by proud citizens, but now! Now I was to endure Canadian pride, spying red, white, and maple leaf waving at me, taunting me!
But beyond the flags, I first had to master driving. The speed limit had changed to 100. For the rest of my life, I will never forget the five seconds of uncertainty as I sought, located, and pressed the button that changed my speed from 65 to 105. Driving in a foreign land...what a harrowing experience, but not nearly as difficult to conquer as the ultimate test of survival--
Crossing the language barrier.
As a speaker of English--American English with a bent towards Southern--I struggled to understand the natives of Canada, even as they so willingly made sacrifice by reaching out to me as a foreigner, welcoming me to their country by speaking to me in my own language. Canadians are truly a kind and hospitable people, and if I ever get kicked out of the US, I know where I will be headed.
 |
| Border Flags |
 |
| International Border Plaque |
 |
| Waiting to get in... |
 |
| Made it! |
 |
| Marilyn Monroe |
 |
| I live right over there... |
 |
| Port Credit |
 |
| Dinner at my favorite Serbian restaurant with my Canadian family |
 |
| After much Serbian music, he sang a Beatles tune for me…in English! |
 |
| Serenade by the water... |
 |
| "Earning" my keep |
 |
| Island Queen Cruises |
9/10 - 9/26
