Further confirmation of what we all already know: Canadians are a kind and polite people group.
I have heard enough consular nightmares from friends here in London to dread the approaching day when my passport would expire. With only a little more than a month remaining before I am due home (December 11th, mark your calendars), and only two weeks remaining of passport validity, this week I braced myself and blocked out an entire day to spend at Canada House.
My passport application process up to now had not gone smoothly. The photos I had initially taken were not to Canadian passport standards (for a quick fix to this problem I highly recommend a visit to to
Passport Photo Service on Oxford St, who had my regulation size mugshots ready in 2 minutes); I couldn't find a single doctor, lawyer or notary who had known me for more than two years and all of my UK ID is under a different name than my Canadian ID. You can see why I might have thought the actual submission process would be a sordid affair.
In fact, with much credit to the Canadian High Commission, it was a really pleasant process. I even got a hug.
some nice things i learned about Canadians:
+ Canadians take a number when they are asked to
+ In spite of what number is called, Canadians are polite enough to let the fretting retiree with a lost passport go first
+ Canadians smile at you when you join them in a room
+ Canadians will offer to help you track down your nephew's phone number in Regina, using their Blackberry (me! this was me!)
+ Canadians will give you a giant grandma-hug for helping in the smallest way.
I was in and out of Canada House in 30 minutes with a patriotic smile on my face.
I don't know about you, but there is a box in my parents' basement filled with small black and grey tokens of sentiment - treasures that I cannot throw away. They may never grace another ghetto blaster, but they are an analog archive of my romantic history.
