I had an Orwellian moment today, not of the '1984' variety. I've forgotten if it is in 'Burmese Days', 'Shooting an Elephant' or some other, but he describes two young British men on a night train during the Raj feeling-out each other's politics before finally secure enough to rage about their place in the injustices of Imperialism. My heart is not that heavy, but I have had that experience in Catholic schools, 'International Schools' in Tokyo, and as a resident of Toronto. Funny, the dogmatism of the latter is the strongest.
Good god how I hate Toronto! A Torontonian who's not lived anywhere else will not hear of it. "Toronto is 'World Class'". 'Jesus wept...'
I was at the Royal Ontario Museum with my son today, feeding and watering him in the café, and a French woman sat beside me with a daughter about the same age as my son: they introduced themselves to each other as they do, so we adults followed. Within a few minutes we both moved from our conversation about bilingual education of our children to the parochialism of Toronto. So refreshing, and confirms what I told my wife about coming back: "We will only make foreign friends, or Torontonians who've lived abroad."