From the Publisher's Desk
Is the Grass Greener on the Other Side?
It had been many years since my husband and I returned to Canada for a visit. Truth be told, I was developing an insatiable craving for Greek food, Kosher dill pickles, Triscuits and parks with green, green grass — all unavailable in our adopted home of Mazatlán.
We took the plunge and headed back to Vancouver, Canada last month. Canadians consider Vancouver to be the greenbelt of the country, a city where it rains rather than snows. Their favorite saying is “if you can´t see the mountains, it´s raining. If you can see them, it´s going to rain.”
 
True to form, it was raining when we arrived and drizzling when we left. But the lovely parks for which Vancouver is famous were gloriously green with colorful rhododendrons and peonies in full bloom. After three wet days, we went into sunshine deprivation shock.
 
We were also shocked when drivers stopped at unmarked intersections to allow us to cross the road. Unused to such politeness, we waved them through. They stayed stationary and waved us on, insisting we had the right of way. It took all the fun out of crossing the street. After eight years in Mazatlán, we´ve become quite adept at dodging motorcycles, drag-racing buses and red light runners.
 
Nostalgia and my craving took us to a Greek restaurant where, in another life, we had spent many romantic evenings. Gracias a Dios, it hadn´t changed and we indulged in rack of lamb, Greek salad, tzatiki, dolmites and baklava until we were stuffed. When the bill arrived my husband gasped. His exact words were, “We could eat for a month in Mazatlán for what this meal cost us!”
We had forgotten, as well, that Canada is a quiet country. Noise bylaws prohibit loud music. Obligatory car inspections insist on working mufflers. Considerate neighbors do not cut their grass on Sunday mornings. At first, the peaceful atmosphere was pleasant. Then we began to notice we were whispering more than usual. So in defiance, we turned on the radio searching for loud Mexican music and rapid-fire Spanish talk shows.
We´re home now, having been met at the airport by bright sunshine and searing heat. All around us, families were hugging and kissing arriving relatives, laughing in excitement. Kids were chasing each other with reckless abandon. It was good to be back.
 
I won´t go so far as to say that Canada is bland, but I will say that the grass is definitely not always greener on the other side.
 
Maureen Dietrich
Editor