Multiculturalism
Vancouver is a Multicultural city. I see that as a chance to learn about my culture by viewing it side by side with other's cultures, and through people of other cultures' eyes.
So, I'm waiting in line at a corner store, listening to a man from Bandladesh asking the Chinese lady behind the counter questions about phone cards. Both spoke good English, though with accents.
When he buys one and turns to leave, he sees my Maple Leaf Grizzly Cut kilt.
"Ah, is that your traditional costume?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered. "Canadian tradition. This is the Maple Leaf tartan."
"Ooh! Very nice colours! What is the special day today?"
"No special day. I always wear a kilt."
"Splendid! Very nice to see!" and he said goodbye and left.
The lady behind the counter was smiling widely, having listened to our entire conversation, but there was a look in her eyes.
"I like your skirt!" she said.
"Thanks. It's called a kilt."
"Very nice skirt!"
I smiled. Normally I stop there but this time I decided the language barrier wouldn't deter me. And, there was that look in her eyes.
Politely, "This is called a kilt. If you call a Scottish man's kilt a skirt, he will get mad."
"Ah! Kirt! Thank you!"
"Kilt."
"Kirit."
"Kilt."
"Kilt."
"Yes."
I made my purchase and headed for the door.
"Have fun in your skirt!" she called after me.
I turned, blank faced, and gave her my Spock single eyebrow raise. If it wasn't for the childhood scar over my right eye, I wouldn't be able to give the Spock eyebrow with my left. Even with the scar, I had to practice.
She said it slowly to get it right.
"Kilt."
I held my smile until I was outside.
So, I'm waiting in line at a corner store, listening to a man from Bandladesh asking the Chinese lady behind the counter questions about phone cards. Both spoke good English, though with accents.
When he buys one and turns to leave, he sees my Maple Leaf Grizzly Cut kilt.
"Ah, is that your traditional costume?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered. "Canadian tradition. This is the Maple Leaf tartan."
"Ooh! Very nice colours! What is the special day today?"
"No special day. I always wear a kilt."
"Splendid! Very nice to see!" and he said goodbye and left.
The lady behind the counter was smiling widely, having listened to our entire conversation, but there was a look in her eyes.
"I like your skirt!" she said.
"Thanks. It's called a kilt."
"Very nice skirt!"
I smiled. Normally I stop there but this time I decided the language barrier wouldn't deter me. And, there was that look in her eyes.
Politely, "This is called a kilt. If you call a Scottish man's kilt a skirt, he will get mad."
"Ah! Kirt! Thank you!"
"Kilt."
"Kirit."
"Kilt."
"Kilt."
"Yes."
I made my purchase and headed for the door.
"Have fun in your skirt!" she called after me.
I turned, blank faced, and gave her my Spock single eyebrow raise. If it wasn't for the childhood scar over my right eye, I wouldn't be able to give the Spock eyebrow with my left. Even with the scar, I had to practice.
She said it slowly to get it right.
"Kilt."
I held my smile until I was outside.
