TO THOSE FLEEING PRESIDENT TRUMP: WELCOME TO CANADA!
Welcome to Canada! You threatened to leave America if Donald Trump was elected President—and, true to your word, here you are. We’re so happy to have you!
We’d like to extend an extra-special welcome to the ethnic, religious, and other groups that President Trump has deported from the United States: Muslims, Mexicans, black people, people who look like Muslims, “Jews, who are just Muslims with smaller hats,” Prius drivers, “that one Asian guy,” tweens, “Jessica Alba, because maybe she’s a Muslim. Who knows?,” all women, and books.
Make yourselves at home. You’re going to be here a while—traversing that wall that President Trump built between America and Canada seems extremelytreacherous. Although I’m no wall expert, just a simple Canuck immigration minister from Toronto, Ontario. Maybe Canadians really are, as President Trump has called us, “murderers and upstairs Mexicans.” Sorry!
We have so many amenities to offer. Please enjoy our free health care! Though we’ll admit that President Trump’s sweeping Obamacare revisions do sound awesome—for just ten thousand dollars, you can pay a drone to come shoot your tumor? Amazing! We can’t do that, but we can offer you all the usual vaccines. (President Trump, of course, has outlawed all vaccines, with the exception of “hot-beef injections.”)
I promise we won’t bother you. Canadians are very quiet. You might not even know we’re there, unless you shine a bright flashlight on us. And don’t be nervous if you see cops on horses; they’re just for decoration. Not like in America, where President Trump, we hear, has passed a law allowing American police to arrest women for “letting themselves go.” That doesn’t sound like a good law, does it? Sorry if it does!
In Canada, we don’t allow murder. I forget, is it legal in Trump’s America, or just smiled upon? Trump’s Secretary of State is a gun with googly eyes, so I think it’s probably legal? Either way, please, no murders here. Unless you reallywant to. We don’t want to be bad hosts!
Feel free to tease your new Canadian brothers. We can laugh at ourselves! President Trump once called our maple leaf a “gay oak leaf.” He called French “gay English.” He called Canada “gay France, which is saying something, because France itself is very gay.” Also, President Trump once used American tax dollars to send five thousand pizzas to our Parliament Hill. In fact, eight per cent of your American taxes are now allotted for “international pranks on huge haters.” What a goof that guy is! Sorry for cursing just now.
Once you get settled in your new country, I think you’ll find that Canada isn’t the backwoods place you Americans sometimes make it out to be. We have many modern conveniences, like paint, and milk! We’re so friendly, we barely need locks on our doors. The locks are mainly to prevent our neighbors from coming over and doing chores for us in the night. One time I left my door unlocked and a family of Ottawans redecorated my entire dining room in stylish mid-century-modern décor.
I think you’ll find it’s an easy transition, since we mostly speak the same language as you. Our slang is slightly different, though. In Canada, we call losers “hosers.” So, translated into Canadian, the new American sixty-nine-dollar bill would feature the motto “No Fat Chicks or Hosers Allowed.”
We use the metric system, so there are a few conversions you should memorize, such as one pound equals 0.45 kilograms. Yup, we’re into math here, which President Trump calls “gay reading.”
Additionally, we have a beautiful national anthem. I’m not saying President Trump’s “Muslims Suck (Mexicans Blow)” isn’t catchy. I’m just saying ours has fewer “f” words and racial slurs in it. No offense to the composer—I’ve been a huge fan of Toby Keith for some time now! Sorry!
Anyway, we are so excited you’re here! If you need anything, don’t hesitate to shout. Which, of course, in Canada means “inquire at a reasonable, considerate volume before 10 P.M.” And, if someone rings your doorbell and leaves five thousand bags of flaming excrement on your porch, don’t worry. It’s just the neighbors.
(Originally published in The New Yorker.)
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