Strange Canadian personalities

You meet some strange people travelling. Well, you meet strange people everywhere, but I think most people’s ‘oddity’ radar is on higher alert when they’re in an unfamiliar location.

Met some strange people during my two months living in Vancouver.

Take, for instance, the pyramid lady. Now I’m not talking about someone inviting me into their home to sell some dodgy scheme to me. No, this lady’s religion was pyramids. And her preacher’s pulpit was a stunning winery in the Okanagon region of British Columbia.

On a week long tour of the Rocky Mountains I’d had a pretty good time being dragged from site to site, despite my slight snobbery against organised tours. So when we arrived at a winery overlooking one of National Geographic’s top ten lakes in the world, I was expecting a taste of some decent wine, maybe a bit of a spiel on winemaking, then I’d be back on the bus. Ready for an evening of drinking lots of wine.

Instead we met pyramid lady. I didn’t actually learn anything about wine, but was informed that my sneezing was caused by my refusal to sleep underneath a pyramid frame, rather than the fact I had a slight cold. This woman then proceeded to lead us into a giant pyramid where the wine from this place was aged. Here the preaching continued. Ancient Egypt, some maths thing … whatever. At the end of it we were ‘invited’ to stand underneath the point of the pyramid and make a wish. Which was bound to be granted within 28 days. Of course. That’s the reason life has had a few hiccoughs for me. I haven’t been wishing underneath a pyramid. After what seemed like an eternity of sitting inside the giant pyramid with waiting for someone – anyone – to follow her lead and make a wish, we were finally allowed out. Not one of the 17 prisoners had taken her up on her offer. And when we were finally allowed to drink the wine, it was rubbish. Seriously. Worse than goon – and $40 a bottle. Must have something to do with the fact it’s made in a pyramid.

The other particularly odd person I met in Canada wasn’t a brief encounter. It was a two month social observation into the world of geek. Ok – Jess – I know I am far from the coolest person in the world. I hung in the library in school and sucked at sport. But this guy is on another level altogether. And taking the piss out of him for hours every day was the only way I got through my working day.

I was going to give this bloke I pseudonym, but I can’t be bothered. Michael, his name is. Not Mick. Or Mike. But Michael. And he referred to everyone else by their full name, despite the fact that they introduced themselves by a shortened version of their name. To everyone else, the lovely Chinese lady in the other office was known as Pam. But to Michael, she was always Pamela.

And he was dumb! Seriously – he had a number crunching job, where I was hired as a writer – and all day long he’d be asking me things like ‘when I receive a return to sender envelope – does that mean the address is wrong?’. Ok, my bitchy, snobby side is coming out, but it was pretty funny.

I reckon he stole his wardrobe from Steve Urkel’s. For those of you not familiar with bad early 90’s American sitcoms, this means he mixed corduroy pants (hitched to his nipple line) with checked shirts and a knitted jumper tied around his shoulders. One day I had to leave to run outside and laugh when he walked in wearing velvet pants and a skivvy.

The conversations I had with this person (the only other person in the huge, old hospital ward I was working in) were few and far between. But when they did arise, 90% of the time they were about the monarchy. He was an expert. Not just on the British monarch (seriously, he asked my view on Australia becoming a republic within 2 minutes of meeting me), but he knew about random monarchies world wide. He asked me how many people had watched Princess Mary marry the Danish prince a few years back. And whether I had gathered in a public place to celebrate this momentous occasion for Australia. Regrettably, I told him that I had been living in the UK at the time (I think), and that I had no real interest in the monarchy, so hadn’t taken any notice. I thought this would get him off the topic – but unfortunately I now know much more about dozens of different royals than I ever care to repeat.

Ok – after this rant I’m probably using up some serious karma points, but I’ve been a nice person to most people I’ve met – and especially helpful to some of the homeless people living near the restaurant where I worked at night … so really I think it all balances out.

Before I go – I have to mention one more group of strange people. Ultimate Fighting Championship fans. I was in a small Canadian town last week, having a beer at the local pub, when a huge group of blokes walk in. Just in time, apparently, to take front row for the “most ****’in awesome fights – live from Las Vegas!”. I have never seen this sport before. And because I love all sports – I’ve even watched curling – I was prepared to give this a go. Well, this UFC fight made the movie Fight Club look like a bit of a scrap between primary school kids. And I’ve never seen a group of blokes more excited by blood and convulsing (after the losing contestant was kicked in the head numerous times). It was a strange social experiment. The group I was travelling with were fascinated by the fascination of those blokes. But that, I hope, is the last time I watch UFC.

Cheers for now …