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Salmon Festival

Today, as you may have noticed, is the first day of July. To Canadians, this is the most important holiday of the year: Canada Day. It’s a day that symbolizes peace, prosperity, and culture. Much like the Americans’ Fourth of July celebration, Canada Day is a day of playing at the park, camping, fireworks, and animal sacrifices.

Canada Day

Each region has its own way to celebrate Canada Day. In the Atlantic provinces, they indulge in some Keith’s and cod. In the prairie provinces, it’s common to kill seven dozen bison and feast on the innards. In the north, they hunt the spotted snow emu, which migrates to the arctic circle for the summer months. And on the west coast, Vancouverites traditionally hunt the tundra tofu-beast, which goes remarkably well with asparagus maki sushi.

And then there’s Steveston. In Steveston — the village where I grew up — we abstain from the tofu-beast hunt. Instead, we celebrate Salmon Festival: a day of intense fish-worship in thanks to Salmonius, God of Scales, who sits in judgment of all fishermen each time they head out to sea.

On a typical July first, the villagers of Steveston emerge from their summer igloos and congregate on the village’s main (and only) road for the Salmon Festival Parade. The villagers then march down the main street wearing nothing but salmon fillets until they reach The Vat, which contains Salmon oil and offal. After the marchers dive into The Vat, a panel of four Vat judges, who represent the clergy of the First Church of Salmonius of the Scales, choose a winner based on style, technique, and the height of the splash. As an aside, it’s considered good luck to be splashed with offal during the Vat Dive.

By the afternoon, the children thrill to the excitement of the carnival rides, which feature the Tunnel of Salmonids, the Roe Boat, and the Drag Net. With modern safety devices, there are now very few fatalities. Adults enjoy watching from the comfort of a snow bank while smoking some salmon. Technically, salmon-smoking is illegal in Canada, due mainly to political pressure from south of the border, but the mounties tend to turn a blind eye for such a minor offense — especially if you let them “confiscate” a chunk or two.

In the past, the villagers celebrated Salmon Festival with certain… um… acts… that are no longer considered proper. That practice has been abandoned in favour of intercourse with live fish. In truth, only our mayor, “Crazy” Willy Smith, ever engaged in this practice, but he does so in the privacy of his own igloo. We support him in his lifestyle choice.

The festival traditionally continues until sunset. As you are probably aware, up here, north of the Canada-US border, the sun doesn’t set in the summertime, so the celebrations can potentially continue for a few months, with fireworks and fish-wrestling every night.

Some people might say that our ways in Steveston are backwards — that we should join the twenty-first century and turn our worship back east to Ontario and the seat of Canadian power. In conversation with visitors from Ontario, they’re disgusted with our lack of patriotism and see our celebration as traitorous. I can see their point. This country deserves a day of celebration. But not if I have to give up my salmon fillets.

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It’s quiet… too quiet

The office is so quiet today. A great many of my fellow cubicle-dwellers have elected to take a vacation day today to make it a four-day weekend (tomorrow is a holiday here in Canada). It’s on days like this that I like to dial up some tunes on WinAmp (these are legal “fair-use” copies of music CDs that I have purchased) and start typing to the rockin’ sounds of Corey Har—

… uh… I mean Christina Ag— uhhhhh…. Hmm. Backstreet Boys? No. I know. Anne Murray. I’m just going to blast Snow Birds at top volume and get this place groovin’.

Wooooo!!

(Oh, and for those people who responded to the poll, there are four bits to a nybble, and 29% believe that the fate of the world depends on putting peanut butter on toast. Only 44% felt that the Loch Ness monster is real.)