Confessions of an Unfriendly Vancouverite

You've probably heard (or said ) something like this before:

“Vancouverites are so cold. It's so hard to meet people in Vancouver!”

I always thought I was the exception to this rule, a friendly Vancouverite, open to meeting new people and having conversations on the street. However, on a recent trip to Cuba, I realized that I am the worst kind of cold-hearted, jaded Vancouverite.

Walking down the street in Cuba, I would always stare straight ahead with a stony expression and walk briskly toward my destination. Then, I would look back and notice that my Australian and Irish tourmates were stuck 3 blocks behind me.

One guy would be kindly consoling a local artisan: “Listen, your sculptures of big-breasted women are really very nice. Although I can’t buy one today, you should really keep up with your art – you’re really talented.”

Another woman would be calmly explaining to an eligible bachelor, “I’m really very flattered by your catcalls, and you seem like a nice guy, but I’m not able commit to anything serious right now.”

And I realized: they have an urge to be polite to their fellow man, no matter what. And I do not.

This epiphany led to further self-reflection. Turns out I’m guilty of a number of small crimes. I didn’t respond to this really long e-mail from an acquaintance in my editing class. One time, a girlfriend and I told some guys we had to go to the bathroom – and then we left. When someone approaches me at a bar or in the street, I often pretend I don’t see or hear them.

When did I become such a terrible person?

My theory is this: Vancouverites are used to getting the cold shoulder. So, when someone is polite to them, they think they’ve hit the jackpot.

One time in 1^st or 2^nd year university, I was naïve enough to engage one of those charity canvassers in conversation. I told them that, due to my financial situation, I couldn’t commit to monthly donations, but it was a great cause and I would love a brochure or some more information.

This, predictably, led to me being chased down Main Mall by a hippie: “I'm broke too, but I can always find money for the children! Just tell me WHY you won't help the children!?”

So, now I turn up my iPod, stare at a fixed point on the horizon, and VOILA! No more hippie chases.

More recently, my weird letter-writing neighbour invited me for coffee. I politely accepted, hoping to clear up any misunderstandings between us. My politeness opened up the floodgates: “Oh, you go to boot camp? I like exercising too – hey, do you like hiking? Let's go hiking together EVERY DAY! And we can grocery shopping together every week too, and I'm home most evenings – let's cook together and watch movies together and...”

It's just a vicious cycle of awkward. I become cold and standoffish to avoid being pushed into things I don't want to do. However, the “pusher” only becomes pushy to overcome the coldness he or she encounters from Vancouverites every day. So I become even colder to combat the increased pushiness....and so on, until we achieve the strange phenomenon known as “Vancouver.”

And yet – on several occasions, I have stopped and talked to strangers, and found it very rewarding. In fact, some of those “strangers” became my best friends. So...I guess I don't have a conclusion here, but....yeah.