Coming to Queen’s, I never considered myself an international student. Yes, I have lived in the United States my whole life, but I am proudly a dual citizen of Canada and the US. I come up North to see the Canadian side of my family all the time and therefore didn’t expect to experience much culture shock at all. I knew I would get made fun of for my American accent and different phrases that I’ve grown up with (e.g. “wicked,” I’m from Boston), but I never expected to be in the middle of a conversation with someone and have no idea what the hell they are talking about. Of course, I have too much pride to ask what they mean, so I tend to nod and smile a lot. I’m also surprised that I’ve only met one or two other Americans since arriving at Queen’s. As such, I have compiled a list of six things Americans at Queen’s can relate to, in hopes of letting my fellow Americans here in Kingston realize that you are not alone, I understand what you are going through, and we will get through this together.
1. Celsius vs. Fahrenheit
I have no idea what anyone is talking about when they speak in terms of Celsius. Yes, I know the old trick to convert to Fahrenheit (double it and add 32), but it always takes me a few seconds to do the math (I’m in Arts, sorry), which causes a very delayed response from me. This led to some trouble during frosh week, as the weather is one of the easier ways to make small talk. These encounters sounded something like this:
Me: “Oh my god it’s so hot out”
Person: “I know, right? My phone said it would be 28 degrees today!”
*5 second pause*
Me: “OH WOW that is hot!”
2. Alcohol Measurements
While discussing a pre we were attending, I asked my friend what I should bring to drink. She responded, “Well I’m almost done my mickey I have in my freezer so I’m hoping he (the host) still has a two-six or at the very least hasn’t gone through the two-four he bought last week.” As usual, I nodded and smiled, replied “awesome,” and immediately got on my phone to look up what all these mysterious terms meant. I learned that a mickey is the equivalent to about a 12oz in the States, a two-six is a bit under a handle, and a two-four is a 24 pack of beer.
3. Online Shopping is not as fun
In preparation for Halloween, I hit up my favorite website in the world, Amazon. As I looked into the thousands of options laid out in front of me, I put a couple key items into my cart and proceeded to checkout. Much to my shock and horror, I realized that NONE of my items could ship to Canada and honestly thought my life was over. I quickly realized that this would be a common problem for me, since online shopping is one of my favorite pastimes. Also, the hefty shipping rates don’t make things any better, yet this hasn’t stopped me from pursuing my online shopping dreams, which is likely why I ended September with $2.44 left in my bank account.
4. No one to Watch NFL Games With
Every Sunday during the Fall and Winter, it’s given that I will set aside up to 3 hours in the afternoon or evening to watch football. I figured that since Kingston is so close to the border, there had to be a lot of NFL fans up here. However, as I watched the Patriots game alone in my common room, I realized that I was wrong. Finally, one of the boys on my floor came in and I was so excited to finally have someone to talk about the game with, but he actually just came to microwave some popcorn and leave abruptly after.
5. Getting Used to how Nice Everyone is
Americans from the South might be used to this already, but coming from the cold (literally and figuratively), not-so-friendly city of Boston, I haven’t quite adjusted to the overall friendliness of Canadians, especially in Kingston. Even if I’m just buying a coffee, the cashier will ask me how I’m doing and seem genuinely interested in my life, and I get a bit suspicious. Like, what do you want from me? You’ve never seen me before and you likely won’t see me again (unless you work at Tim’s because I’m there at least once a day for a double-double). There’s no reason you should care about my life this much!
6. “Pasta”
When a Canadian says pasta I die a little inside. It just makes something so good seem so unappealing. I will never get used to this. If I EVER say “pasta” with a Canadian accent, please send me on the first flight back to Boston.