Bundled up well in my winter clothes, I arrived in Vancouver on the April 18, 2014, having more or less made it through a Montréal winter. Despite spring’s imminent arrival, the thermal contrast between the two cities was impressive. The first thing that hit me was, quite literally, the rain. It was a fine refreshing mist on my face – nothing chilling. The second thing that struck me was all the green – the green of the grass, the green of the trees, the green of the flowers and the green of the plants. After four months of a uniformly white landscape all the greenery seemed unreal to me.
Photo by Magnus Larsson
Staying with the green theme, one of Vancouver’s most unheard of events was, for me as a French woman little accustomed to Canadian ways, 4/20 or the April 20. While I was wandering downtown along Robson Street, I found myself in front of the Art Gallery of Vancouver in the midst of an entrancing cloud of smoke that instantly relaxed anyone walking by. And even under Vancouver’s grey and misty skies, to see such a low, dense cloud is a curiosity. I had originally set out in search of chocolates to mark the Easter Sunday tradition, but now found myself surrounded by sweets and chocolate cake of a whole other sort. 4/20 is the amazing get-together of militants in favour of legalizing cannabis, a celebration where both occasional and frequent users can buy and use cannabis in all its forms under the watchful eyes of the police detailed to the event. That year 30,000 people gathered to create the infamous cloud.
In spite of the apparent openness of spirit of Vancouverites, I heard many criticisms pertaining to their coldness or superficiality. Still, I have been happily surprised by their warmth and their patience with me. Although timid by nature, I have never felt ill at ease or ridiculous—not even when I was mixing up words such as “flush” and “blush” or even “fang” for “bang” at the hairdresser’s. I always felt tolerance and goodwill on their part.
As well, I had preconceived notions of Vancouver’s reputation as “no-fun city.” I noticed that Vancouver’s cultural diversity was not only to be found in the wide range of its restaurants but also from one club or bar to another. Indeed, every establishment distinguishes itself by its style of music and so attracts a different crowd. The only drawback might be the liquor regulations with restricted hours and the provincially regulated sales outlets. Nevertheless, there are many other ways to enjoy life after work, notably the numerous bars and restaurants promoting “happy hour” drink specials.
To end with another amusing anecdote, I recall the time I was having my lunch break in front of the art gallery, and a young woman invited me to stick a piece of chewing gum on a sculpture. I had indeed noticed the installation a few days earlier of a statue representing a man’s head, a work by Douglas Coupland. Not withstanding hygienic qualms, I found the idea of Gum Head inspiring, and that allowed me to discover another Canadian artist from Vancouver that I had only vaguely heard about in Paris. For me the magic of Vancouver is just that, its cultural eclecticism without the elitist element – culture within reach of all. In the end you have to have culture for all tastes.
