I know that I’m still a little bit French, but as time went by, I also adapted to my new home.
Like many in Canada, I embrace the North American way of life while keeping some of my culture. Cultural integration, not assimilation.

The scale in the corner of the kitchen was taunting me, and one morning, I finally climbed on it. I was just curious, I guess. Barely awake, my eyes still out-of-focus, I blinked several times, trying to bring the scale’s needle into focus. And I gasped.

I occasionally miss not speaking English fluently. Trust me, life was a lot of fun when I could only understand half of what people were saying. My mind was working fast, perpetually trying to make sense of things. Could that be that?

When I first came to Canada, my English wasn’t good at all. I hated talking to people, especially strangers. I’d go to the stores and try to keep the conversation to a minimum.

I soon realized I just couldn’t do that. No matter how hurried I tried to look, or how clueless I may have seemed, people would always talk to me. Canadians love small talk.

I think prospective immigrants should be given the whole picture and I don’t believe wearing pink-colored glasses really helps on the long run.

This is not about bashing Canada or North America, or saying that other countries on earth are by comparison much better. This is about giving some other facts, for once a bit on the “minus” side.