Southern discomfort

As an Australian, I've always been suspicious of Canadians. I suppose it's because they live in a kind of "bizarro Australia" where everything seems familar but, on closer inspection, is always in fact a little bit better (Charlie Sheen to Australia's Emilio Estevez if you will). These feelings of filial inadequacy surface when you least expect them. Reading the newspaper. Listening to O Canada. Watching Degrassi Junior High. Most recently, I was reminded of them in the top bunk of a dorm bed in Canberra. It was there that I came to the sobering realisation that not only do Canadians treat their Indigenous people better and speak two languages (neither particularly well says the sulky voice inside my head), but they can also hold their booze. A lot of booze. The story goes something like this. In Room 205 of the Canberra City YHA I met a young Canadian down on his luck. His fiance had recently called off their engagement and so he took the money that he had been saving for their wedding and travelled to Australia to get away from it all for a bit. Having realised earlier that day that interviewing politicians and policy-makers was unlikely to give me the warm and fuzzy feeling that some of my development studies class mates were likely to experience, I decided to make the Canadian my new project. I took him to the bar and I bought him beer. In exchange, he bought me beer. Not wanting to let a Canadian win, I bought him another beer. He bought me more beer. Someone else bought us beer. We bought that person beer. And so it went. Eight pints and not enough potato wedges later I stumbled up to my dorm room and went to bed where I managed to sleep through the act of vomitting on myself (and possibly, as collateral damage, the guy in the bunk below). Not wanting conscious Dan to miss out on the fun, my enfeebled damn Estevez-of-a-body repeated the act no less than five times the following morning, including once in the shower (a particular low point), with each time my gagging throat making a taunting Canadian "eh?"-like sound. I've been on the wagon for two weeks now and suspect that the recovery will take a little longer. Dara, Chris and Kerrie, hope you are all well. x