Inspired by the recently celebrated B.C. Day, which came with attendant essays on what makes this province unique and worth bragging about, I’ve decided we need a Vancouver Day, with guidelines on how you can tell a true Vancouverite (whether here for five days or five generations) from a mere visitor.
Plus, we all need a chance to be silly.
Here is my kickstarter and highly idiosyncratic list about what defines someone as a Vancouver native:
– Knows the difference between West Vancouver, the West End, and the west side of Vancouver
– Never bothers to carry an umbrella in any weather. What are Gore-Tex jackets with hoods for?
– Pronounces Vancouver as “Vangcouver,” a strange but true Canadianism I’ve noticed.
– Has a strong opinion about cycling, one way or the other
– Does not think there’s anything strange or unusual about butter-chicken poutine.
– Has waited more than four hours in a ferry line-up, at some point.
– Knows where there is a decent wild blackberry patch
Being a true Vancouverite transcends birthplace or residency duration. It’s an attitude shaped by mountains and ocean, rain and sunshine, diverse neighborhoods and endless construction cranes. Real Vancouverites develop an intuitive understanding of the city’s rhythms and contradictions.
They instinctively know that “North Van” means something entirely different from “West Van,” and that crossing the Granville Bridge versus the Cambie Bridge signals distinct lifestyle choices. They’ve mastered the art of layering clothing for microclimates that change every few blocks, and can navigate SkyTrain delays with Buddhist-like acceptance.
True locals measure distances not in kilometers but in traffic time, understanding that getting from Kitsilano to Commercial Drive might take twenty minutes or an hour depending on mysterious urban forces. They possess strong opinions about the best sushi restaurants, coffee roasters, and hiking trails, often defending their choices with evangelical fervor.
Most importantly, Vancouverites embrace the city’s perpetual state of becoming – accepting that their favorite restaurant will close, their neighborhood will densify, and their commute will be disrupted by yet another condo development, while maintaining faith that somehow, impossibly, this chaotic urban experiment continues creating one of the world’s most livable cities.
