Photo courtesy of Brenna Temple

Last October in Australia I fumbled over a ballot I ordered from overseas. Feeling politically isolated in a remote city named Wagga Wagga, I researched various candidates. At that time I was confronted with a startling question: what does it mean to be Canadian?

Reading the headlines on my favourite websites I suddenly missed the natural discourse I once experienced within an everyday Canadian setting. I vied for the casual political chats I used to have with random strangers. My Skype connection dropped, so I couldn’t contend Canada’s hottest topics with my dad. I resorted to Google and filtered through numerous articles. During this process I discovered one resounding fact: I felt a responsibility to participate in my culture even though I was immersed in a different one.

Historically, Canadians have questioned this country’s identity. Turns out we can’t find many words to accurately represent how we feel. On the other hand, many of us know how to express our opinions on politics. I noticed a lot of controversy online about how it’s impossible to agree with every principle of a politician. But seeing our country from the outside, I saw so much strength and unity in having the opportunity to show ownership over Canada’s ideas. For some reason it took moving across the world for me to see this. Maybe that’s sad, but I was just happy to share my new thoughts with anyone who would listen. It felt like a revolution.

Now that I’m back in Vancouver, I am surrounded by a plethora of people who are passionate about the country and city they live in. We talk a lot about apathy, but we don’t give ourselves enough credit for the progress we’ve made. When I walk the streets in Vancouver, I see posters about political issues taped to different buildings. I see passion in the guy handing out political flyers on the corner of Granville and Robson. You can hear the discourse when you ride the Canada Line from Bridgeport to Waterfront, or when you walk Vancouver’s seawall. You can also hear the couple next to you chat about that day’s news in the local restaurant. Our Canadian culture is so strong; it’s no wonder we can’t find words to describe who or what we are. I don’t know how to describe what a Canadian is to my Australian friends. But I do know that when Vancouver appeared on the news in the living room, I heard myself saying in an elevated voice, “that’s where I’m from.”

I‘ve noticed so many controversial issues in the media since returning to Vancouver. But I’m as wordless as I was when I watched Trudeau’s acceptance speech online, trailing through the kitchen with an iPhone in front of my face. What could seriously be better than knowing we’re a part of this Canadian culture? We will never agree with everything, but we will always be one. So when my friends ask me to explain how it felt to live in a different country, I just smile and say, “I didn’t realize I was so incredibly Canadian.” Whatever that means.

Maybe we’ll never find words to explain what it is to be Canadian. But if you’re looking to find out, then I’d suggest you move to Australia and see how it feels. I promise you, you’ll find something, and it will be big.