For the most part living in Canada is not much different than living in the US. A few words are spelled differently, such as colour, licence and theatre. There is a subtle but definite Canadian accent, but not all Canadians have it, and one is just as likely to hear non-Canadian, foreign accents. About 20% of the population is foreign born.

There is the odd bit of slang, such as “You’ll be laughin’,” which means, roughly, “You’ve got nothing to worry about.” For example, summer season is a tough time to find a rental here, so our search for long-term accommodation is not going very well. But come September evidently we’ll be laughin’ because all the vacationers will be moving out and there will be plenty of places for rent. Or so we are told.

We can still shop at Sears, Wal-Mart, Safeway and Costco, and eat at Taco Bell, Subway and McDonalds. Home Depot and Staples are the same on both sides of the border. But there are some popular Canadian-only stores such as Zeller’s, similar to Fred Meyer, and the beloved Canadian Tire, which is nearly an institution in Canada. I guess it started when tires were a major part of its inventory, but now, in addition to its auto section, it carries hardware, home improvement, sports gear (mostly hockey) and other things. I haven’t fully explored the store here yet, even though I’ve been there quite a few times already. It’s the kind of place that when you need something, chances are you’ll find it at Canadian Tire.

If there is one store that Canadians think of with pride besides Canadian Tire, it is Tim Hortons, which is pretty much just a doughnut shop. But they are everywhere across the country. There are two or three just in Penticton. The other day the couple we are renting from took us into the downtown “Timmy’s” and I had a maple doughnut (of course). That was my first time in Tim Hortons and the first time I’ve had a doughnut in years. It was pretty good!

So, sometimes I almost forget I am in Canada and not the US, and then I’ll see a speed limit sign, or hear a weather report. Canada is metric, and as much as I admire the logic and simplicity of the metric system, it is nearly impossible for me to understand metric measurements. For instance, when I see a speed limit sign with 80 on it, my foot is inclined to press a little harder on the gas pedal. Unfortunately 80 kilometers per hour is only 50 miles per hour. I guess I can be grateful they use hours here and not something else.

Gas is about $1.40 per liter. I still haven’t quite figured out how to change Canadian dollars per liter into US dollars per gallon, but I know that gas in Canada is expensive, about a dollar per gallon more than in the US, and it is going up rapidly.

Then there are temperatures. I heard some comedian say that Americans think Canada is really cold because by looking at a weather map they see that temperatures drop by 30 degrees north of the border. Americans use Fahrenheit, Canadians use Celsius. Freezing is 32 degrees Fahrenheit , but zero degrees Celsius. If it was just a matter of adding or subtracting 32 it would be relatively easy to make the conversion, but to get Fahrenheit from Celsius you have to add 32, then multiply by the Queen’s birthday expressed as a fraction, day over month. Or something like that.

Speaking of dates, that is another thing. In the US we put the month first, then the day and year. Canadians put the day first, then month and year. Christmas in the US this year will be 12/25/08, and in Canada (and most other countries, I think) it will be 25/12/08.

I don’t know what Canadians make of the nearly constant references to “9/11” in the US, but if they get a little nervous every November 9, that’s the reason.

Something else I haven’t figured out is the Canadian government. It is a parliamentary system. There are two major parties, the Conservatives and Liberals, which are similar to their American counterparts, but perhaps more centrist.

There is plenty of vitriol between those two parties, but the waters are muddied by the existence of two smaller, but still significant, parties—the New Democratic Party (NDP), which is more populist/labor oriented and considered to be left of the Liberal party—and the PartiQuébécois, which exists only in the French-speaking province of Quebec and is focused mostly on the issue of sovereignty for the province. To hear Canadians and Quebecers (or Québécois, as they say in French) go at it over this you would think it was Israel and Palestine.

There are several smaller parties, such as the Green Party, which does reasonably well in some local elections, and the Marijuana Party. The Marijuana Party doesn’t get as many votes as I would expect, but possibly it is because its constituency has trouble figuring out when election day is.

Technically Queen Elizabeth II of England is the head of state. The head of the current government , or administration as we would say in the US, is Prime Minister Steven Harper. (That is a bit of Canadian trivia with which you could probably stump 99.9% of Americans, right up to the highest levels of government.) Harper is the leader of the Conservative party.

I really can’t figure out how one becomes prime minister. As far as I can tell Canadians only get to vote for local or Provincial representatives, then the government is formed and the prime minister is selected by whatever party gets the most representatives elected to parliament.

But an entirely new election can be precipitated by a disagreement between the prime minister and the parliament. One prime minister (a woman!) only lasted six months in office before another election was called.

It’s very confusing. Until I am a citizen I won’t be able to vote, so I don’t have to worry about understanding all that. But when I do get citizenship I am going to join the Marijuana Party so I will have an excuse for still not understanding it.

Our trip north was thankfully uneventful. I drove the U-haul truck and towed my VW bus on a trailer behind. Faye drove her car, half expecting it to break down along the way. But it didn’t. We spent a couple nights on the road, and got to the Canadian border on May 29 early in the day.

The crossing was easy and anti-climactic. We entered Canada at a relatively small and quiet border post. After briefly parking on the US side and checking in with American officials to get exit approval for the two vehicles we were taking out of the country we got in a short line to enter Canada. We were instructed to park and go into the office for the paperwork.

When entering Canada one must account for everything brought into the country. Though I had made a detailed inventory of our belongings, according to which numbered box they were in, for the customs form I had summarized everything into just a few categories and listed the estimated values.

The young man charged with that phase of our entry seemed to be surprised at how little we had. (Obviously he had not helped us pack.) He kept asking “This is everything?” I began to feel like the Beverly Hillbillies, moving to Canada with our meager possessions. “We had some big garage sales!” I told him.

The part I was more worried about was my “landing,” my official entry into Canada as a permanent resident. Another official took over for that. He asked me a few questions to verify the information in my file (“Still married? Been arrested recently?” etc.) Then he took a look at my “71 VW bus on the trailer behind the U-Haul. “Anything in there left over from the 70s?” he asked. I was trying to be on my best behavior, so I simply said no, I didn’t think so. Faye said “Just him,” indicating me. After telling me I could probably get some good money for a rust-free VW of that vintage, he said “Welcome to Canada,” and that was that.

We didn’t know anyone in the community we were moving to. We picked it because the Okanagan Valley area of British Columbia has the best climate in Canada, and the town of Penticton seemed potentially interesting. Weeks ago Faye had contacted a financial advisor in town and had mentioned that we were going to be looking for a place to rent. We expected to stay in a motel or camp out until we could find something. But the advisor referred us to some other clients of his who had a three bedroom/three bath condo they had remodeled with the intention to sell. Faye talked to them and they agreed to rent to us for a month or two, sight unseen.

When we got to town they weren’t quite finished with the condo, so they invited us to stay in a spare room at their home for a couple nights. The second night they took us to a lakeside bar/restaurant and introduced us to a half dozen of their friends there. It was an idyllic spot, particularly as the sun was setting over the lake.

But the weird thing, as we looked around, was that most of the people there were close to our age. It was strange, but at the same time, comforting. As we learned, we are probably in the median demographic of the town. More than half the population is over 50, many of them wealthy retirees who have migrated to the area as we have because of the climate. They are in contrast to many of the younger locals who are working class (or non-working class in some cases). Someone said the town was known as the place for newlyweds and nearly deads. A nearby predominately elderly community is called “God’s Waiting Room.”

So, amongst the younger blue-collar locals we feel well off, and amongst the elderly retirees we feel young. It’s all good.

A couple days later, after we had moved into the condo we went with our landlords to a downtown coffee shop a couple we had met at the lakeside had just bought. We felt on the fast track to getting settled in our new community (and I was beginning to think that maybe Canadians were pretty nice after all.)

Since we got here we’ve been dealing with a number of other details of making the transition from where we were to where we are now—new cell phone, new postal box, new driver’s licenses, car inspections, registrations and insurance, the Canadian equivalent of a Social Security card for me so I can work and, of course, the health services card which will allow me to use the Canadian health care system. But all that should be pretty well taken care of by the end of this week. Then we can start getting more familiar with the area, looking for work and a more permanent place to live.