Holiday weekend in the National Capital Region! This time of year is always nuts in this town (ripe for social analysis), as tourists, suburban families and drunk teenagers descend on the various green spaces of Centretown to consume and perform nationalism. Last year, I tried to squash my political opposition to demonstrations of patriotism by donning my red and white maple leaf socks and starting the day on the Hill, but it turned out to be an isolating day of conflicting feelings. I remember feeling almost embarrassed that I wasn't having much fun with my friends and tried to change my attitude, but it didn't help and I wound up crying at a K-OS concert for reasons I cannot explain.
I will back track to set the scene for my West Coasters: Canada Day in Ottawa is a scary thing. National pride demos include swarms of people baring temporarily tattooed skin, ripping red and white clothing to expose more body parts, and chugging dark-coloured liquid out of plastic water bottles. To be clear, I'm not really against any of those things. It's the sum of the parts that is unappealing.
This year, Canada Day in Ottawa featured the crazed fans of the visiting royal Duke and Duchess. Terrifying. Aside from my pro-republic leanings, I find it remarkable that anyone would brave a crowd in 30 degrees plus humidity to watch two people walk by. To my friends who made it out for a glimpse of Kate and Will, please let me know what inspired you. And did you also watch the wedding?
In search of a holiday free from the masses, I leapt at the offer of a cottage escape on July 1st, and enjoyed a hot afternoon of swimming and lounging with extraordinary company on the Ottawa River. We talked about advocacy, women's rights, environmentalism and bio-ethics... there was no mention of cause for celebrating this great nation. Perhaps strangely, on a day spent tossing around difficult ethical issues, I felt more relaxed and appeased than I ever do when intentionally celebrating. I experienced waves of that I'm-so-lucky-to-be-alive sensation all afternoon. I was really happy with the decision to skip town.
That evening, I returned downtown wearing green, wolfed a poutine, and escaped yet again to my friends' condo gathering to watch the fireworks. To get there, I wove through swarms of (mostly intoxicated) people and fielded many harassing comments, some of which actually frightened me. At the small gathering, though, more wonderful and kind company. Blackberry sangria and maple leaf cupcakes did not hurt the kindness vibe.
After rejoining my cottage friends for a quick post-fireworks cocktail, I meandered home through the police riot squads, paramedics, girls nearly teetering off of their platforms, and mounds of poutine and street meat litter. As usual, the aftermath of celebration, perhaps more aptly termed rampant consumption, is waste and destruction. Doesn't this beg to be critiqued? Resisted?
So it turns out I don't like Canada Day, and I've become okay with it.
No comments:
Post a Comment