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Millard Kaufman's final novel has arrived!
Pick up Misadventure now—or, see what
you've missed out on thus far by picking up
both Bowl of Cherries and Misadventure
for 27% off the retail price.

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A PLACE OF DANGER:
ALONE AND ADRIFT
IN TORONTO OVER
CHRISTMAS BREAK.

BY JENNY TRAIG AND STEPHEN ELLIOTT

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John Francis
Pine Tree High School
Mr. Ignazio's Class
Immersion Journalism, Third Period

By now you've probably heard how I spent my Christmas break. I know, when you spoke of the importance of immersion, you were not actually advocating I go to Canada. But I believe in what you said, and I believe in what I did, and, given the choice, I would do it again. This is my story.

Most of what I knew about Canada I'd read in the news. I read it was unsafe and getting worse. I read that the American occupation was a disaster and that we were turning our neighbors to the north into a breeding ground for anti-American sentiment. I read about insurgents roaming the streets and reporters unable or unwilling to leave the safety of their hotels in the heavily secured area of downtown Toronto. And the truth is that I wanted to see for myself how bad the situation was.

Because I believe there are two sides to the story. While perhaps we originally invaded Canada looking for illegal weapons that we never found, that doesn't mean there is something wrong with spreading democracy. That doesn't mean that, deep down, Americans and Canadians don't want the same thing. My parents grew up in Canada and remembered it fondly as a country of honest folk and simple pleasures. They spoke warmly of Kraft Dinner and Mr. Big bars.

I believed that Canada still existed, and that is what I was hoping to find. Armed only with a Canadian phrase book, $1,000 U.S., a Roots sweatshirt, and my ideals, I went to discover the Canada the American media has ignored.

How did I get in? It wasn't easy. The borders were closed along Niagara and Washington state. But it's a long border, full of holes. There were times when I almost gave up. After Seattle and Buffalo, I went to stay with this cousin who lives in Detroit. He's kind of an ass. My parents didn't know what I was trying to do, and he made me give him my PSP not to tell, but whatever. I caught a taxi from Detroit over the border into Windsor. I'd really done it—I was actually in Canada, alone on enemy soil.

And then things got harder. I immediately realized I was in over my head. Because of my Canadian heritage, I thought I would blend in, but that proved not to be true. Sure, I looked Canadian, but as soon as I opened my mouth I gave myself away. The staff at the Tim Hortons was shocked to hear my American accent. They wanted to know what I was doing in Canada, who I was working for, my motives. They could see I wasn't a soldier—but what was I? For many of these people, I was the first American they had ever seen.

Then there was the whole currency thing. They have dollars, too, but they're different dollars, and trying to convert one to the other in your head before you buy something is a lot harder than you'd think.

I would have turned around and gone home that first day if it weren't for the Canadians' overwhelming politeness. Their famous hospitality was on display everywhere. Bump into someone and they'll apologize to you, even if it was totally your fault. But even Canadians have a breaking point, and it was on my third day there that I found it.

Hey, did you know that the legal drinking age in Canada is only 18? Well, it is! And, if you ask me, that's Canada's biggest problem. It was certainly mine. I'm sure you've already read about the incident at the Toronto Dave & Buster's, and I don't want to get into it here. Suffice it to say that I didn't know what a Mountie does, but it does not involve lap dances, as the name might suggest. I probably should have asked first.

While American news is filled with stories about Canada—the new government, the constitution, the elections, and, of course, the death and destruction—news within Canada is much harder to get. As a result, I had no idea of the furor caused by my actions and was surprised to see the blanket of press waiting on the tarmac for my arrival. Also, I got grounded for, like, six weeks.

That part sucks. The rest of it, though, I don't regret a bit.

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OTHER McSWEENEY'S FEATURES:

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A Place of Danger: Alone and Adrift in Toronto Over Christmas Break By Jenny Traig and Stephen Elliott
A Selection From George W. Bush's Eavesdropping Tapes: Matthew Barney and Björk Place an Ikea Phone Order By Chris McCoy
Yes Frontman Jon Anderson's Instructions to His Dogsitter By Eric Feezell
The 4-Year-Old on a Blind Date By Ross Murray
Clue Confessions By Jim Stallard

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