ACADEMIC LIFE
An American in London (Ontario)
There’s nothing like the kumbaya of Canadian political candidates gathering to urge the shots
“Pull down your masks so I can see your faces. Also, you’re in America now –you have the freedom to not wear those anymore.” –U.S. Customs agent, as we cross the Canadian border.
Permanently moving to a new country, even a friendly Northern Neighbor, can be challenging in the best of times, and a laborious ride during a pandemic. Comparisons are natural — who pays for health care, why do I now have the credit of an unemployed teenager, where do I buy booze, am I the subject of a queen, will my phone autocorrect to behaviour. But, of course in 2021, differing responses to COVID19 by citizen and government alike were startling.
We moved from a large blue (Democratic) city in a red (Republican) state to a medium purplish (3 parties!) city in a frequently red (Liberal) province. It was summer 2021, and all Americans over 18 had access to the vaccine, with Canadian adults just beginning to get their second doses. Today, around 61% of Americans are fully vaccinated (though this number might be lower). Our former state of Indiana lags at the bottom of state rates (52%) — compared to the 77% rate of our new Ontario home.
We waited to make our first visit and secure housing once the required 14-day house arrest — err — quarantine was lifted in crossing the Canadian border in July. Our entry required a PCR test — which is free for US citizens and residents at most pharmacies — and no test for U.S. re-entry at the land border — compare that to the $100+ for a PCR in the Great White North. In the hour it took to determine the legitimacy of our work permit applications, border agents chatted earnestly about the evolution of Tim Horton’s test kitchen special flavors and upcoming canoe trips. There was no doubt we had arrived in Oz. Or perhaps a plaid and maple Brigadoon.
We now live in a 24-story apartment building that has continued to require masking in all common areas, and no more than three people on the elevator. Every restaurant mandates proof of full vaccination (with an Ontario Health QR code) and photo ID, in addition to name and phone number for contract tracing. Every time. In every place you might be for more than 15 minutes, in this swing city sometimes dubbed one of the most conservative this side of the prairie provinces.
In September, we attended one of the first Bluejays home games after their return from Floridian exile. Seating was distanced, and masks mandatory. With ushers at every aisle, gently, politely reminding folks if they left their masks down too long after “active eating and drinking.” And these sports fans made no fuss or pushback or belligerence as seen on American air travel. Suffice it to say in the GTA, masking is a norm that doesn’t seem to face much challenge.
September also brought my first Canadian election experience, fresh on the heels of the 2020 U.S. trauma. It was absolute culture shock seeing PSAs with all major parties’ candidates urging Canadians to get vaxxed and adhere to pandemic protocols. The losers even consented to results. Definitely not in Kansas anymore. I have literally lived in Kansas, and there’s nothing like the kumbaya of Canadian political candidates gathering to urge the shots.
In sum, it’s easier and cheaper to get vaxxed and tested just about anywhere in the United States. A thirsty policy effort screaming for attention — the pick me, choose me, love me version of a federal administration desperate to reduce barriers. In Canada, you can’t do much of anything without a vaccine or test, but scheduling is challenging, and testing costs have been prohibitive. More of a policy that says “please go nowhere and do nothing. Stay by your cottage hearth with your ice wine and home brews and wait this out, eh.”
Now I am freshly boosted and QR-coded to pop by the provincial LCBO and use my queen money for some holiday bubbles, a rapid Covid test, and a case of Canadian, hoping in 2022 for a raise in my credit limit so I can buy more donuts named for pop stars.
Amanda Friesen is Associate Professor of Political Science at Western University in London, Ontario.
