Snowstorms in Vancouver
There is an oft quoted urban myth about the Inuit having four hundred words for snow. This week in Vancouver, I have learned a few of my own. First, and most importantly, we have “skiable”. Then, a close runner-up, we have “photogenic”. The rest, are all four letter words.
Cold, damp and slow would best describe my progress to work this morning.
“It never snows in Vancouver ” I was told.
Then the statement was refined a little.
“Well, it does snow, but it always rains after so it doesn’t stay for long.”
We’ve now had snow on the ground for nearly a fortnight and as I write this, it’s still falling outside. Apparently this is the biggest dump since 1969, so it’s not just the foreigners who find it foreign. While I’ve been on plenty of skiing holidays, it’s quite different to actually live in the midst of the white stuff.
Things…. take….. longer, much longer. First there’s the dressing, layer after layer of clothing, to the point that I can’t get my arms to my sides. On my feet go my ridiculous looking yet immensely practical mukluks , while on my head goes a hat with earflaps. I can’t imagine leaving the house looking like this back home, but here, it’s entirely appropriate. Today on the bus a woman was wearing plastic bags over her shoes, tied on neatly with red string, so really, anything goes.
I am lucky that I don’t have to dig a car out of the snow, and think that even if I did own one, I’d probably be too scared to drive it. The bus, while slow and even less on time than normal is definitely the way to go. Or so I thought until today when the bus company was digging little snowbanks and spreading salt under the wheels so we could get up the Oak street hill.
Yesterday I decided it would be faster to walk home from work but even that can be treacherous. Sections of the footpath are shovelled by dutiful residents but there are also sections where snow comes up to my knees. It’s impossible to move quickly, for fear of slipping. At intersections, there are often big puddles of slushy snow to wade through.
However, it’s not all negative. It is the holiday season, and if you are one of the lucky folk who doesn’t have to work, it is pretty spectacular. The town has a different feel to it. It’s quiet, with traffic slowed to a crawl and sounds muffled by the snow. People are still out and about but mostly on foot. A steady parade of families head to the hills of Kitsilano with toboggans. I even saw one woman zooming along the street on cross country skis! There’s also a much stronger sense of community at the moment, “We’re all in this together”. It’s all part of the experience of being away from home. It’s just not possible to catch snowflakes while waiting at a bus stop in Melbourne, make snow angels on a beach or as Frank did last night, build a Pisa-esque Santa sculpture in the front garden.
Happy Christmas !
Tags: Canada, Expat life, Travel
