I'm in Oklahoma for part of a week to help clear out the family home. This is the second trip of three planned trips, with a fourth possible next month. When one parent is a historian, the stuff piles up and the genes reappear in the next generation. It's a challenge.
It's also strange to be in the U.S., especially Oklahoma. (Also extremely HOT.) When I started the serious move to Canada three years ago, the U.S. was much more familiar than Canada, even Thunder Bay, where I'd spent so much time over the years. The weird thing is, it's not just big things (international road signs with speed limits in kilometers), it's the little things that are hard to get used to.
For example, it took me a long time to get used to receiving so much change in coins (loonies and toonies) instead of bills. Three years later, I'm about to the point where I can predict whether I keep the wallet open for bills or open the change purse. It's not automatic but I don't have to spend time caculating.
Another wild card, when shopping, is the relative value of the loonie and the U.S. dollar. In the "good old days," the loonie was worth 60 to 70 cents. Some sales in Canada were actually great deals; besides getting the 50% or whatever off, you got an extra 1/3 off for the exchange rate.
Those days are long gone, but three years ago, the loonie was still worth 80 cents. I was still getting a deal when bringing money across the border (legally; it's called writing checks, or cheques, and waiting 30 days for them to clear so you can spend it) (I only wish I were making that up). Now, the loonie is about 95 cents. Some say the dollars will be at par by the end of 2007. Some say the loonie will be worth only 90 cents.
It's confusing. My mother would tell me to just live in the currency where I am, but my business is such that my money comes in U.S. and my expenses are mostly in Canadian. So I have to keep thinking about it.
But I like to think that being able to predict whether change will be bills or coins is a step toward bi-monetary fluency. And a vague, undefinable feeling of strangeness as I pay for my skinny mocha in U.S. money--perhaps that's another.
Or maybe it's just the heat. Makes me want to lie under the porch and pant.
