Holiday From Correctness

 

Toronto Star,  
OPINION, 
Tuesday, February 7, 1995


On a recent flight to Switzerland, the talkative and friendly Swiss flight attendant asked where I was from.

"Canada," I said.

"Oh," she replied spontaneously, "you don't look Canadian, but your children do."

There was no apology, distress, backtracking or dismay at her gaffe.

Once I realized she was just being honest, I was quite impressed, and we began an involved conversation about my roots, my heritage and why my children are more Canadian than I am. We discussed everything from my nose ring to my ethnic dress. Other passengers and flight crew were drawn into the conversation and soon we had a little social tete-a-tete.

In this process, we all learned more about each other. It was quite educational and inspiring for me because it had been so long since someone asked me directly: "Where are you from?" That, as we are all taught, is a no-no in politically uptight Canada.

Later, in Lucerne we took a guided tour of the city. Our guide was a charming Swiss lady. The others in the group were American. The guide came to our group and said "I hear we have a Canadian family with us - have you seen them?"

We proudly raised our hands while she raised her eyebrows.

"How is that?" she asked, and made no bones about being surprised and unashamedly curious about us. She asked dozens of questions that we happily replied to without any feathers being ruffled.

Throughout this exchange, the Americans watched us warily while we expounded on liberty, equality and multiculturalism in Canada.

An interesting highlight of our tour in Lucerne was the Cathedral of St. Francis Xavier, who had done much missionary work in Asia and in the process had converted many Asians to Christianity.

Our guide unabashedly kept referring to the Asians as "heathens." She then pointed to a sculpture of St. Xavier on top of the cathedral where he is portrayed with an "Indian," as in Iroquois, complete with feathered headband.

Our guide candidly explained that the sculptor had no idea that it was Indians from India among whom St. Francis had proselytized - he only knew of North American Indians so he made a sculpture of a Indian brave with St. Francis. Obviously, there never had been a move to (politically) correct or replace the statue.

The tour guide proudly ended the discussion by telling us that St. Francis Xavier is buried in Goa, India, which we must know since we were from that area. We did not feel the necessity to correct her and say we were not from India.

The entire episode was so natural and spontaneous that I kept thinking, "Something is wrong with this picture." In Canada by now we would have had a case of discrimination and racism. But here we were and we did not feel the least bit maligned - just amused.

It was refreshing to be exposed to a candid change in atmosphere. We were obviously and pointedly more alien in Switzerland that we ever would be in Canada. Yet everyone was outgoing, warm, friendly and curious as a puppy. I rarely have enjoyed talking about my heritage as much as I did there.

The point is that there is life beyond political correctness.

Sometimes we need to rethink our options and priorities. And sometimes we need to go away to do that better.

 

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