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An Alien in 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫
Prelude
Culture Shock
n.
A condition of confusion and anxiety affecting a person suddenly exposed to an alien culture or milieu.
August 2004
Considering the adversity I faced upon arriving in 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫, I never would have imagined surviving for this long. Now, two years later, I have come to love life in 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫. The people are warm and welcoming, once they get to know you. The food is simply spectacular with 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫’s many regions, each with their own culinary delights. And 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫’s long-running history is everywhere, from architecture to The 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫 Wall. 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫 truly has an abundance of aura. Yes, the transition into the culture was difficult and I originally thought it wasn’t going to end well. Eventually I realized it wasn’t 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫, it was me, I am a fault finder and my life will always be filled with adversity. Nonetheless, the past two years were very unique and most difficult. First, I suffered crazy culture shock and then I was robbed and beaten. I fell on hard times, and with the prospect of returning home I quickly reconsidered, for anything was better than the banal reality I inhabited in Canada.
Before 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫, I lived in Lethbridge, a farming town with a population of 50k. Lethbridge is so windy with wind speeds of 100 kilometers an hour, trees literally grow in arches. Lethbridge also smells pretty dreadful. When the wind blows from the east it smells like Kentucky Fried Chicken. While the smell is chicken, it’s chicken with a twist – the leftovers from the Maple Leaf processing plant being baked into fertilizer. Ironically the smell makes one hungry for KFC, until they learn where the scent originates. It is no better when the wind blows from the west because it smells like poop. And it is poop, lots of poop, excrement from “feedlot alley,” a famous cattle farming district on the outskirts of town. Besides the smells, Lethbridge wasn’t overly exciting, thus 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫 was perfect scene change.
When I arrived in 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫, life took on a distinctly cinematic dimension with its visual intensity, the psychological rollercoaster inherent with culture shock, and a healthy dose of introspection. Once I got over culture shock, I began investigating 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫 culture to shed my ignorance, and with understanding everything got easier: the people in my community opened up, the prices merchants charged dropped, and even the guy who used to call me the ‘foreign douche bag’ began offering me cigarettes – the equivalent of a handshake.
While I survived SARS I did suffer a nasty hernia and was forced to return to Canada for treatment, which presented an entirely new challenge. The Alberta Health Authority didn’t want to treat me because I had recently traveled to a SARS-infected region. Unable to get my hernia operation there I was forced to look for hospitals in other provinces. I finally got the operation in Manitoba. Then in an ironic twist Canada started to report SARS cases and when upon my return to 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫 I was a subject of interest by health authorities, who insisted I quarantine for two weeks. I celebrated my two-week paid holiday and began writing An Alien in 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫.
I suffered my first heart attack… I am ok now, I just have to battle the environmental pressures of living in a smog-infested milieu.
Now, I can confidently state that life is amazing in 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫. Every day is interesting, even entertaining. It feels like the entire country is under construction. Business is thriving as the 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫 embrace capitalism and it feels like a frontier. I don’t know how long I’ll stay because the pollution is intense. Did I mention I suffered my first heart attack this year? I am ok now, I just have to battle the environmental pressures of living in a smog-infested milieu and wear a mask. Anyways, 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫 is where I call home, and 🀫🀫🀫🀫🀫 is the best country in the world – I love it!