Extra Credit Assignment - Banking has never been one of the most exciting "errands" I do. Since moving from the U.S. to Canada, however, it has now moved down close to "getting a root canal" on my list of favorite things to do.
First, I've discovered that U.S. and Canadian banks don't play together, never mind play nicely. Turns out that banks between the two countries, even when owned by the same damn multinational company, refuse to acknowledge each other's existence. The best you can really do to transfer/open accounts is to come with a bank check in hand and hope they don't put a 10 day hold on it like they did mine (don't get me started on how holding a bank check defeats the purpose of using a bank check in the first place).
Second, until I moved here I didn't fully appreciate the low and/or no fee banking I had in the States. It seems in Canada, the banks charge you fees for absolutely everything and then charge you more when you go over the number of "transactions" you are allotted for your particular kind of account. And I should probably explain that "transactions" according to most banks in Canada include withdrawing or depositing money in person, over the phone or at the ATM (even ones owned by the bank), writing checks and sometimes even making electronic payments. I'm amazed they didn't charge me for breathing excessively in line the other day.
Third, and most frustrating to me is the fact that since coming here and getting my brand spanking new social insurance number, I apparently have NO CREDIT HISTORY according to all the Canadian banks. Last week I applied for an in-store credit card at IKEA and got turned down. Despite the fact that I have perfect credit in the U.S. and a credit limit at least 4 times what I need there, I'm not even qualified to borrow a pencil at the bank in Canada.
"Well, we MIGHT be able to give you $500 limit and see how it goes from there," the bank representative across the desk said to me, smiling in the same way that people smile at the McDonald's cashier who has Down's Syndrome.
"What?!" I exclaimed. "You mean to tell me that you're giving me the same kind of credit limit that you would give an 18 year old who is just getting their first card with a part time summer job?"
"Yes. I'm sorry," she replied, though I don't believe for one second she really was sorry.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Weights & Measures - Ok, for the most part I'm sorting things out here north of the border... the best route to get to work, how to find my way to Ikea (which by the way, I now need a 12-Step program Ikea-holics Anonymous), traffic rules which are particular to at least Toronto and so on.
But, one area that keeps throwing me for a loop is the whole measuring thing. It's getting better now, but for the first 2-3 weeks I was here, I would wake up in the morning and have to ask my partner what to wear because at the moment I have no mental framework for the temperature told to me in Celsius. Listening to the weather on the morning news, the temperature feels like an arbitrary number... "and today folks we're gonna have a scorcher with a high of 30 degrees."
Huh? 30 degrees in my lil' brain means break out with your winter coat. Mornings are hard enough without trying to work out some conversion formula that I had to learn in 7th grade science... something about multiply by 5/7th's divide by the square root of the daily currency exchange rate and add the number of Canadian beers left in the fridge?
It's not just the temperature that I'm messed up about, it's distance and weight.
Example A. - Most maps here read in kilometers; my car's odometer only reads miles so when I'm driving I'm trying to convert so I don't miss my next intersection.
Example B. - I jumped on the treadmill on the gym and was asked for my weight in kilograms. Although I do have to admit, saying my weight in kilograms does make me sound skinnier since it's a smaller number!
But, one area that keeps throwing me for a loop is the whole measuring thing. It's getting better now, but for the first 2-3 weeks I was here, I would wake up in the morning and have to ask my partner what to wear because at the moment I have no mental framework for the temperature told to me in Celsius. Listening to the weather on the morning news, the temperature feels like an arbitrary number... "and today folks we're gonna have a scorcher with a high of 30 degrees."
Huh? 30 degrees in my lil' brain means break out with your winter coat. Mornings are hard enough without trying to work out some conversion formula that I had to learn in 7th grade science... something about multiply by 5/7th's divide by the square root of the daily currency exchange rate and add the number of Canadian beers left in the fridge?
It's not just the temperature that I'm messed up about, it's distance and weight.
Example A. - Most maps here read in kilometers; my car's odometer only reads miles so when I'm driving I'm trying to convert so I don't miss my next intersection.
Example B. - I jumped on the treadmill on the gym and was asked for my weight in kilograms. Although I do have to admit, saying my weight in kilograms does make me sound skinnier since it's a smaller number!
Friday, July 07, 2006
Friendliness Factor - So far, so good here in Canada. I've manage to sign myself up for a social insurance number and sign up for the government based medical insurance (more on my thoughts and experiences on that later).
There is, however, one very unnerving experience which keeps repeatedly happening: people are friendly.
I know it sounds strange that this would tweak me out but it does. The fact that strangers speak to me... on the street, in the store, at the gym, wherever... for no other reason than to be polite and friendly, is a bit of a mind-bending experience for me. For example, the day I moved here and was unloading my moving van, more than one person stopped as they were walking by and welcomed me to Canada and the neighborhood and said they hoped I liked it here. They were being friendly and sadly my first thought was, "They stopped to talk to me so they can scope my shit out."
I guess living most of my life in NY, I assume that if I don't know you and you start talking to me you are: a) crazy, b) going to mug me, or c) crazy and you're going to mug me. There have been a few times when my partner and I have been out when strangers have initiated some sort of conversation with us and she has actually had to tell me to "relax." You see, when folks do that, I physically and mentally get into a defensive posture and assume the worst.
I'm a little better now but for the most part, I still feel like I'm in some sort of shiny-happy twilight zone episode or a warmer and fuzzy version of a Ray Bradbury story. I suppose I should be grateful to being pushed to stretch and grow in this way... makes me wonder if there's a way to make this kind of attitude contagious?
There is, however, one very unnerving experience which keeps repeatedly happening: people are friendly.
I know it sounds strange that this would tweak me out but it does. The fact that strangers speak to me... on the street, in the store, at the gym, wherever... for no other reason than to be polite and friendly, is a bit of a mind-bending experience for me. For example, the day I moved here and was unloading my moving van, more than one person stopped as they were walking by and welcomed me to Canada and the neighborhood and said they hoped I liked it here. They were being friendly and sadly my first thought was, "They stopped to talk to me so they can scope my shit out."
I guess living most of my life in NY, I assume that if I don't know you and you start talking to me you are: a) crazy, b) going to mug me, or c) crazy and you're going to mug me. There have been a few times when my partner and I have been out when strangers have initiated some sort of conversation with us and she has actually had to tell me to "relax." You see, when folks do that, I physically and mentally get into a defensive posture and assume the worst.
I'm a little better now but for the most part, I still feel like I'm in some sort of shiny-happy twilight zone episode or a warmer and fuzzy version of a Ray Bradbury story. I suppose I should be grateful to being pushed to stretch and grow in this way... makes me wonder if there's a way to make this kind of attitude contagious?
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Happy July 4th! Happy Canada Day! - This past weekend I got to experience my first Canada Day on July 1st, which for those American folks reading this who don't know, is the day Canada officially became a country.
It's been an interesting experience watching the media and observing the preparations for Canada. There is definitely a sense of national pride here in Canada but it feels so different than in the States. I can't quite put into words how, but maybe some examples of differences will help illuminate what I'm struggling to find words for.
One difference I noticed was that in the media Canada Day is was described as "Canada's Birthday," or the day Canada became a country. There was not the same kind of emphasis on "hard fought independence" as in the States. This kind of makes sense given how the States originally came into being versus Canada. Even just reading through both national anthems, you can clearly see differences in that the U.S. anthem speaks of "bombs bursting in air" and Canada's talks of "we stand on guard for thee." (If you haven't even heard Canada's anthem, I'm sure you can Google it).
Second, in the days leading up to Canada day, there was not the kind of advertising blitz I'm used to seeing in the States where every furniture and car dealer sees even the vaguest of holidays as a commercial coattail. In fact, I read that any store bigger than a certain square footage and not in a designated tourist area is required to close on Canada day and other state holidays or face severe fines, sometimes up to $50,000 CND!!
Somethings did feel familiar... lots of flags, fireworks, BBQ's... but there wasn't quite the underlying we're-#1-and-don't-you-forget-it feel that seems to pervade American patriotism, especially these days. Given that the UN recently named Toronto the most multicultural city in the world, the sense of nationalism here feels more complex and frankly, more mature. This past weekend felt to me as if there was room to appreciate Canada without doing it in a way that necessarily meant that other countries and groups therefore had to necessarily be "lower" or "less than."
And so today, on July 4th, I will hang out my newly purchased American flag on my deck and perhaps on my walk to work, I'll hum a "patriot" tune or two to remember the day in a quiet ex-patriot kind of way.
It's been an interesting experience watching the media and observing the preparations for Canada. There is definitely a sense of national pride here in Canada but it feels so different than in the States. I can't quite put into words how, but maybe some examples of differences will help illuminate what I'm struggling to find words for.
One difference I noticed was that in the media Canada Day is was described as "Canada's Birthday," or the day Canada became a country. There was not the same kind of emphasis on "hard fought independence" as in the States. This kind of makes sense given how the States originally came into being versus Canada. Even just reading through both national anthems, you can clearly see differences in that the U.S. anthem speaks of "bombs bursting in air" and Canada's talks of "we stand on guard for thee." (If you haven't even heard Canada's anthem, I'm sure you can Google it).
Second, in the days leading up to Canada day, there was not the kind of advertising blitz I'm used to seeing in the States where every furniture and car dealer sees even the vaguest of holidays as a commercial coattail. In fact, I read that any store bigger than a certain square footage and not in a designated tourist area is required to close on Canada day and other state holidays or face severe fines, sometimes up to $50,000 CND!!
Somethings did feel familiar... lots of flags, fireworks, BBQ's... but there wasn't quite the underlying we're-#1-and-don't-you-forget-it feel that seems to pervade American patriotism, especially these days. Given that the UN recently named Toronto the most multicultural city in the world, the sense of nationalism here feels more complex and frankly, more mature. This past weekend felt to me as if there was room to appreciate Canada without doing it in a way that necessarily meant that other countries and groups therefore had to necessarily be "lower" or "less than."
And so today, on July 4th, I will hang out my newly purchased American flag on my deck and perhaps on my walk to work, I'll hum a "patriot" tune or two to remember the day in a quiet ex-patriot kind of way.
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