Last Monday, Canada paused to celebrate the birthday of a long dead British monarch—yes, it was Victoria Day. Most people are looking forward to enjoying a long weekend. I’ve always dreaded them.
When I’m tired, my brain goes on overdrive. Details that shouldn’t matter suddenly bother me—why is it so dusty under the couch?
They don’t even have the chance to end up in a salad, they are just throw into giant Canadian Tire yard waste bags and hauled far far away from suburbia, like a troubled teen sent to rehab.
I felt completely isolated from other Canadians. I couldn’t do small talk, couldn’t relate to the culture, didn’t understand jokes and when arguing with Feng, I always ended up in tears because it crying was easier than expressing myself in English.
I dash to the kitchen. Quick check here too—sometime she is having her morning cup of coffee here. Nope. All clear. Now I just have to take Mark to the classroom and hopefully, she will be busy
It would be years until I display a flag. Like many French, I associated the national flag to yes, the French Revolution—a long long time ago—but mostly to more contemporary dark periods of human history or far-right movements.
Mark never stops. I’m thinking of lending him to ESL students—your very own human flashcard! Test your vocabulary and get a tantrum if you don’t reply fast enough! Can be switched to Mandarin or French!
As difficult (and maybe pointless) as it is to make a blanket statement about such a heterogeneous population, common characteristics and shared values do exist and bind people together.
A couple of years ago, I decided to give radio another chance. Not the annoying radio stations with their pre-formatted playlists and ten-minute commercial breaks—I turned to podcasts.
I busted five myths about freelancing, it’s now time to highlight the perks. Eh, I’m not a masochist, there is a reason why I quit my last office job!
Mobile gaming continues to thrive and looks set to be poised to really begin dominating…
“Eat rice. Eat Cheese”. Typical Mark, bridging French and Chinese cultures. Still a North American kid, though—he won’t sit at the table, he’d rather “watch TV”.
I noticed the flashing LED light on my phone and I grabbed it absentmindedly. Just another assignment coming through, I thought. But I hadn’t received an email. I had four missed phone calls. And two voicemail messages.
These were the darkest hours. I don’t like to remember them. But I can’t pretend they didn’t exist
You’d see Ottawa today, you wouldn’t believe it’s the same city that was stuck in…