Multiculturalism Hits Home

Canada prides itself on its multiculturalism. Given that it started out with the French and the English trying to make a go of it in a single country, it is perhaps more an ideal born of necessity than one of choice. And even the English-French part is still a work in progress, although as a result of all product labels being written in French and in English, my French vocabulary is far better than it was in high school. Unfortunately, my grammar capability has not experienced a corresponding level of improvement since native French speakers are a little thin on the ground in British Columbia.

Vancouver’s multicultural experience is less French and English though than it is English and Central European, and then India Indian, and then Chinese (both early, in the Gold Rush days and late in the Hong Kong migration days). And in between and around all of those ethnic groups are the First Nations People, so making it all work is something of a challenge. They can only be admired for making it work as well as it does, as compared to the U.S. which seems to have adopted a more stoic, ‘just live with it’ view of the problems inherent in many different cultures living together.

When I was growing up in Pocatello, Idaho, our experience of multiculturalism was largely the local Chinese restaurant, the only restaurant I ever went to until I was old enough to pay the bill myself. We would go there maybe once a year and my father would order steak and my brother and I would get chop suey and pork with mustard sauce and, to demonstrate our enthusiasm for all things Chinese, we would ask for chopsticks as utensils. My father, less enthusiastic, would have us sit at a separate table to eat our food so that he did not have to watch our ineptness. He was something of a stickler about how food was to be eaten.

Every little town in America, I have always thought, had its Chinese restaurant, but I was astonished, as an adult, to discover that every little town in Germany also had its Chinese restaurant, and for all I know, also the villages of Spain, France, Italy, and Portugal. The Chinese brought multiculturalism on a plate, and I surely thank them for it. They were the first people who ever gave me a concrete sense of a world outside my own.

Living in California, however, you kind of trade in the local Chinese restaurant for the local Mexican restaurant. Every family there has its favorite Mexican restaurant. Mine, in 1960, was El Carmen, on 3rd St. in West Hollywood and, if I went there today, I would expect everything to taste just like it did then, which was different from any other Mexican restaurant I ever visited. Years later, we had access to fresh, hand-made tortillas from a local tortilleria, and we were just as likely to make our own version of Mexican food with exquisitely authentic ingredients.

Thus, you can imagine my surprise when, upon arriving in British Columbia, I discovered that the Mexicans had not yet made it this far. When I drive by the lower Fraser valley agricultural fields, I do see that East India immigrants are often working in the fields, so maybe they got here first. Certainly there are plenty of Indian restaurants. Mexican restaurants, though: nada.

The alternative, of course, is the grocery store. But here in B.C., canned goods for Mexican food are in a separate section of special imported goods. Their quality is not very special, but their prices surely are. Cans of refried beans (not from Mexico, but from the U.S.) are very pricey items--$2-$3 for a small can. Salsa might as easily be made from out of season avocados (if you made salsa from avocados) considering the price. Canadian bakers do make tortillas, though. The corn tortillas? Made from pre-frozen shredded cardboard. They do not have the knack of corn meal, I’d guess. But this is Canada, and they understand wheat, so there are several varieties of flour tortillas on offer. Mostly, these flour tortillas remind me of Canadian bagels, which are just bread dough cooked in a circular shape. (If I could, I would take all the residents of Roberts Creek, B.C., for a visit to Fairfax St. in W. Hollywood to taste a real bagel, one that does not have blueberries in it, or chocolate chips, or jelly beans either.) However, one tortilla brand stands right out: Old Dutch Flour Tortillas. That, I think, is a triumph of Canadian multiculturalism.