|
The tourist
attractions in
Vancouver and Toronto were the highlights and what we found
equally interesting were the sidelights - the people we happened to
meet during our visit to these places.
We went to Vancouver by JAL changing the flight at
Tokyo. To begin with, contrary to what we heard about the
international airport in Tokyo, that it was easy to lose one’s way
considering Narita’s vastness, we had no difficulty as the directions
towards the exit were very clearly mentioned, even otherwise the
airport staff, despite their limited knowledge of English were too
willing to help travellers.
Once we emerged from the airport, we just had to
wait for the hotel coach to pick us up and drop us at our transit
hotel, Nikko Narita. I noticed to my surprise unlike in hotel rooms in
the West and in India , the powder room and bath were divided by a
wall, it was a very hygienic concept, I thought.
We had to make do with bread toast and coffee for
lunch as the lunch buffet consisted of a non-vegetarian spread except
for some mixed fruit. We wanted to know whether we could have a
serving of some fruit and immediately the waiter, after having a word
with the restaurant in-charge, placed two full plates of fruits of our
choice before us. Though the bill (which ran into a four figure sum
when converted into rupees) appeared exorbitant by Indian standards,
we had no reason to grudge as it satisfied our hunger.
Once we reached Vancouver, after a travel of nine
hours, we hopped into a cab and within less than half-an-hour reached
the Vancouver Sheraton Wall Centre in Downtown. (It was the venue of
an international conference organised by IRMA in which my husband was
one of the delegates). The cabbie collected the exact fare, returned
the change and thanked us with a smile and wishing us an enjoyable
stay, he drove off (without a “pottu kudunga”).
 |
|
Crowd waiting inside Dosa King |
When we entered a nearby shop to inquire about
vegetarian hotels around, the sales woman, a Punjabi lady, asked us to
which part of India we belonged and when I said we are from Chennai,
she suggested a hotel in Kingsway, which was a few kilometers away and
mentioned the number of the bus that would take us there.
“You will get very good idlis and dosas in Dosa
King, also known as House of Dosas,” she said in Hindi. She spoke to
the owner of the hotel, Raj, on her mobile and asked us also to talk
to him. He was delighted to hear someone speaking Tamil and the moment
my husband said his name was Raghavendra Rao, he recited Guru
Raghavendra stotra (which is in Kannada).
 |
|
Inside Dosa King in Vancouver |
As the saying goes that the proof of the pudding is
in the eating, the masala dosas and oothappams with three varieties of
chutneys and sambar were simply delicious. We were amused to see a
Canadian couple sitting at the next table watching their little
daughter who appeared wonderstruck at the cone-shaped dosa. Watching
us eat the dosa along with the side dishes, they followed suit and
seemed to enjoy the whole exercise of eating the dosa as it should be
eaten!
Even as we were enquiring about Raj and expressed
our desire to meet him, we were pleasantly surprised when a young man
approached us and introduced himself as Raj. He said he came from
Perambur, in Chennai. Unfortunately, we couldn’t carry on a long
conversation as we had to vacate our seats to accommodate others who
were waiting, and had also found Raj too busy attending to his
customers.
Raj refused to accept more than 10 dollars even
though the amount mentioned in our bill was three times that. “Pathu
Rooba Kudunga”, he said, to which my husband jokingly answered, “Appo
India Kitta Thaan Poganum!”
“Joke Adikaadhinga, Sir, Joke Rasikirathaku Ippo
Time Illa,” said Raj.
We had another pleasant taste of Vancouverian
treatment towards visitors when the bus driver stopped the bus which
had just left its stage when I raised my hand. “Madam, you have to pay
10 dollars because I stopped the bus for you,” he said in Hindi (he
was a Punjabi) .We knew he was joking and when my husband offered to
pay the fare, he restrained him (later we learnt bus drivers have a
discretion not to collect the fare from guests) and instead was
curious to know what my husband’s occupation was. When he learnt he
was a professor, he immediately remarked, “Then you must be very
intelligent,” and he started addressing him as 'Sir'.
Talking about himself, he said he had four houses,
two children and “one wife”and that he also worked as a part-time
nurse.
 |
|
Niagara in the background |
I had an interesting experience while at the hotel
meeting an elderly American couple who had come on a visit to
Vancouver and a professor of an American university who was a delegate
at the conference. During my conversation with elderly couple I
realised how little Americans knew of the progress and advancements
our country had made in various fields. For instance, they seemed to
be surprised at our flawless English, (they are under the impression
that one can speak good English only when one studies abroad. When I
said we have good English medium schools in India and most of us speak
the language fluently, they thought one should be very rich to afford
going to one). and our knowledge of their part of the world, our
interest in travel etc. I had to dispel many of their
misapprehensions.
When my husband introduced me to the professor from
the US saying I was a journalist and have authored a book, she wanted
to know what the title was. When I mentioned it, thinking it would
make no difference one way or the other to her, her reaction came to
me as a pleasant surprise when she said, “Oh yes, I heard about it
because I remember my friend from India saying the book, consisting of
little episodes, is a good read on the flight.” (What more can a
writer ask for, I thought).
Life in Toronto, we noticed, presented a real
contrast compared to Vancouver, which is declared as the most livable
city in North America with its leisurely pace of life and pleasant
weather. People are on the run, leading a mechanical life from morn to
night with very little leisure to indulge in any past-time.
The Indian families (the few we met or stayed with)
who have migrated to Toronto though have changed to the western way of
dressing, we found were very much Indian at heart with the exception
of probably one of them who I thought can pass off for a Canadian in
looks and his lifestyle. I would talk for hours together with the
couple (perhaps it is my journalistic curiosity to learn about things)
and it was amusing to see him getting impatient and react with the
words, “You know what a Canadian would say, 'Lady, please give me a
break'.”
 |
|
Niagara Falls |
We found The Niagara Falls absolutely breathtaking
for the sheer width and force and volume of the waterfall. The ride on
the 'Maid of the Mist' which took us to the foot of the falls from
where we could have a close view of the mist with water splashing on
us and people’s voices reaching a crescendo added to our excitement.
It was an unforgettable experience indeed! The 'Maid of the Mist' is
named after the legendary Indian Maiden Lelawala, whose spirit is said
to reign over Niagara Falls, the popular boat cruises have been
thrilling visitors from the world ever since 1846.
 |
|
A woman hawker selling juice in Gerard Street, Toronto |
Originally used to ferry passengers across the
river, the boat became a tourist attraction in 1848 when a suspension
bridge was opened. Since then, millions of visitors including royalty
and presidents have experienced the thunder of the falls and its
gentle mist on a succession of boats named 'Maid of the Mist'.
When it came to eating out in Toronto, whether they
are Canadians or Indians, south Indian joints like the Madras Udupi
Café or the Saravana Bhavan seemed to be equally popular as either Tim
Hortons or the numerous Chinese restaurants with them.
 |
|
Gerard Street, Toronto |
However, Gerard Street in Downtown Toronto has a
concentration of Indian stores ranging from jewellery to fancy items
not to speak of hawkers selling fresh sugarcane juice and roasted corn
cobs outside these stores.
Only thing we miss perhaps are the flies hovering
around us!
N Meera Raghavendra Rao
|
