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rfmcdonaldWould it be condescending to describe the Island as quétaine? It certainly would be if, as the glossaries suggest, it means something much more contemptuous and much less endearing that I thought it meant. At the very least, I should explain why I chose that word.
Moving to Upper Canada last August, I began to notice a variety of cultural differences between Atlantic and Upper Canada, quite apart from the visibly greater wealth of Kingston--nicer urban public infrastructure, wealthier-looking homes, more expensive shops. Two weeks in, I realized that most of the people surrounding me talked like the people on national television, in the stereotypical American-influenced dialect of Canadian English that is slowly making inroads in Atlantic Canada against the more conservative dialects imported by the initial settlers. The fanaticism displayed by Toronto Maple Leafs fans during the playoffs was interesting to observe, from the perspective of a neutral observer. Remembering that the Prince Edward Island National Park is little more than a half-hour from my home, the mania in Toronto for summer camps struck me as odd until I realized that in the half-year since my move, I've descended to the Lake Ontario shorefront only twice.
The most visible differences between Toronto and Charlottetown are, of course, the demographic ones. I discovered this Thanksgiving that the city of Charlottetown has barely more than half of the population of the city council district where I live (35 thousand versus 60 thousand). And, of course, Queen-Dufferin is embedded in a very large metropolis, and is itself exceptionally multicultural; Charlottetown is at the top of the Island's urban hierarchy, and is about as multicultural as Prince Edward Island gets. Toronto dominates its hinterland; in Charlottetown, the process of cultural urbanization described by Dasgupta is still ongoing.
Toronto is hardly foreign; rather, it is different. Returning to Prince Edward Island last week, I realized that I'd begun to operate according to Torontonian assumptions. Growing up, Charlottetown looked fairly large and bustling; returning, it looks small and somewhat quaint. The Island's relatively lower level of economic development makes itself subtly apparent in any number of little details. The overall effect, though, was hardly unattractive. Rather, the various signs of the Island's relative backwardness--an underpopulated and relatively poor and certainly monocultural urban landscape, a densely populated and cultivated rural landscape--were rather attractive, novelties almost.
Certainly I was well aware that the Island's tourism strategy depends heavily on exploiting the province's relatively low level of development. I did work three summers for the Department of Tourism, after all. Despite all that, though, I didn't understand the actual effect of this strategy until last week.
Moving to Upper Canada last August, I began to notice a variety of cultural differences between Atlantic and Upper Canada, quite apart from the visibly greater wealth of Kingston--nicer urban public infrastructure, wealthier-looking homes, more expensive shops. Two weeks in, I realized that most of the people surrounding me talked like the people on national television, in the stereotypical American-influenced dialect of Canadian English that is slowly making inroads in Atlantic Canada against the more conservative dialects imported by the initial settlers. The fanaticism displayed by Toronto Maple Leafs fans during the playoffs was interesting to observe, from the perspective of a neutral observer. Remembering that the Prince Edward Island National Park is little more than a half-hour from my home, the mania in Toronto for summer camps struck me as odd until I realized that in the half-year since my move, I've descended to the Lake Ontario shorefront only twice.
The most visible differences between Toronto and Charlottetown are, of course, the demographic ones. I discovered this Thanksgiving that the city of Charlottetown has barely more than half of the population of the city council district where I live (35 thousand versus 60 thousand). And, of course, Queen-Dufferin is embedded in a very large metropolis, and is itself exceptionally multicultural; Charlottetown is at the top of the Island's urban hierarchy, and is about as multicultural as Prince Edward Island gets. Toronto dominates its hinterland; in Charlottetown, the process of cultural urbanization described by Dasgupta is still ongoing.
Toronto is hardly foreign; rather, it is different. Returning to Prince Edward Island last week, I realized that I'd begun to operate according to Torontonian assumptions. Growing up, Charlottetown looked fairly large and bustling; returning, it looks small and somewhat quaint. The Island's relatively lower level of economic development makes itself subtly apparent in any number of little details. The overall effect, though, was hardly unattractive. Rather, the various signs of the Island's relative backwardness--an underpopulated and relatively poor and certainly monocultural urban landscape, a densely populated and cultivated rural landscape--were rather attractive, novelties almost.
Certainly I was well aware that the Island's tourism strategy depends heavily on exploiting the province's relatively low level of development. I did work three summers for the Department of Tourism, after all. Despite all that, though, I didn't understand the actual effect of this strategy until last week.
