加拿大华人论坛 加拿大生活信息大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？

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来加拿大半年了，感觉自己的英语虽然还不够，但的确比刚登录时候强多了，有时候跟公共汽车上，也能跟老外聊一路，其实，觉得学英语有时候不是心急的事情，不是每天背几小时单词就能解决的，但在这边，耳听目染的英文多了，也是一种提高的途径，大家有没有觉得不知不觉中，英语提高了呢？

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？没有 英语退步了

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西葡那些事儿 (2011)意大利中北部之旅 (2009)美东四城记（波、纽、华、费）(2010)墨西哥城都市游 (2012)邮轮入门级-巴哈马 (2016)回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？提高了，可以听懂很多。喜欢听收音机，喜欢看电视，朋友帮我把车上的收音机调到中文台，他是一片好心，我完全理解，但是我一直收听英文台，虽然有些听不懂，但就是喜欢听。

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？看看这个JOKE, 水平就提高了. 我在国内, 看这个也没有问题不用查字典. 我十分钟看完的, 你们几分种? A Few Words on Canadian Identity, Culture, Multiculturalism, Racism & Canada’s Immigration Policies Well, I woke up this morning, confident in the Canadian Mosaic of misinformation, misrepresentation, and general “hug thy neighbor” because they are “new” philosophies, and what happens while I’m asleep at the wheel with a half full Kokanee between my leg? Those damn Tories went and whisked away my general feeling of political incorrectness by going and informing the teaming mass’ piling up at the gates of Heaven (you know, Custom’s and Immigration Canada) that we Canuckians aren’t perfect, we don’t always get it right, this isn’t necessarily the best place to live, and oh, by the way, we do occasionally put the Beaver hunting aside and go target practicing for terrorists when we are not consuming huge quantities of pork and beer after our little dip in the icy water. Imagine my surprise to wake up to the newly released “Discover Canada” guide. A Federal document extolling the history of our nation, the identity of the Canadian mosaic and it’s purpose, coupled with the expectations and onus of responsibility placed on new Canadians as they make their homes here. Couldn’t have twisted my mind more if you’d flipped a couple of hits of Acid in my morning coffee and replaced my flip-flops with fuzzy bunny slippers. For a significant part of my life, and definitely my voting life, I’ve had to watch as the meaning and definition of being Canadian became more and more obscure. I sat back and witnessed Liberal and Conservative Governments alike pervert the meaning of being Canadian for the sake of votes. I’ll tell you a quick story that I’m not very proud of, but needs to be told because to me it leads to my definition of what a Canadian should strive to achieve. When I was a lad growing up during the 70’s in Calgary, a city whose growth was exponential during that decade (when I moved here at the ripe age of four in 1970, the population was 165,000 and the tallest building was the International Hotel, by 79’ there was 500,000 people here, and 45 Sky-cranes in the core), I went to a Junior High in 79’ that had exactly one Black student (yes, I know it’s politically correct to say African Canadian, but Black is Black, Red is Red, Green is Green and White is White, and when a dudes family lives in Canada since before Confederation, he isn’t African anymore, he’s a Black Canadian of African origin, just like I’m a White Canadian of European origin), and not a single East Indian or Pakistani, although there were a smattering of Chinese and the odd Japanese kid around. In fact, you could get on a bus, go all over the city, and you’d be lucky if you saw anyone other than a Caucasian person walking up or down the street. There simply weren’t that many identifiable minorities. That is until the Liberals, under Trudeau in the mid-seventies, discovered that if you open the immigration floodgates up, you get fresh, grateful voters. I’ll get back to this. Anyway, there I was, little Mr. Unconscious Red-Neck, standing in line for lunch one day in grade 7, beside my very good friend Fraser. He made a snide remark to me, and I looked at him and said with all humor intended, “don’t be a dumb Nigger”. Well, needless to say my very good friend Fraser (who stood 4 inches taller than me, and 25 pounds heavier) almost instantly had me on the ground and was beating the living shit out of me. It took two other buddies to pull him off, and by the time they dragged him away, I’d earned myself two black-eyes and a broken nose, and everyone around me wondering what the hell set Fraser off. You see Fraser was the only Black student in my school, and none of us saw him as anything but another student. We weren’t indoctrinated into a society of segregation, we were not taught to think about the fact that people were this color or that creed… we simply were. So when Fraser lit up, neither I nor anyone else around me understood the profound and painful insult I’d rendered him. This story gets better though. This is the irony of a nave society manifesting itself to try and correct a situation, and doing it the wrong way. I’ll explain: I may have been the one to slight another, callously tarnishing his race to his face with a derogatory and denigrating name, but my school took the insult a little farther, by suspending poor Fraser for 3 days for fighting. I, of course, as the picture of innocence, arrived home looking a tad battered, and of course my Father wanted to know why. I have to say my old man was a damn fine fellow. Once having heard my story, he lost it, he was furious, livid, fit to be tied in his anger, and his anger wasn’t at my friend Fraser. He was mad at me, and at the school. My Father, the paradigm of proper, the champion of all things a gentleman should do. The man who daily bemoaned the state of the world and hated all things communist, picked me up by the shoulders, pinned my sorry ass against the wall, and told me in no uncertain terms that if I ever uttered that word again he would beat me to within an inch of my life himself. He then sat me down, and calmly, explained to me exactly what I had done. He then apologized to me for not having explained this matter beforehand. (Although he did make a comment later that night to my mother that the reason he hadn’t bothered explaining anything to me about race or religion was that he thought I was smart enough to understand, and that he was quite beside himself that his son was an idiot.) Needless to say, I finished up supper, went over to Fraser’s house, and sat at the table with he and his parents, and began a very long, and very heartfelt apology. You see, it wasn’t that I wasn’t aware of the Slavery trade, or how Africans had come to be in North America, or the displacement of the Acadians. It wasn’t that I wasn’t sympathetic to the plight of persecuted people, having only to look at my own Scottish history. I was just too young to have put two and two together and realize that Fraser and his family were a result of those history lessons. I’d never seen Fraser as a persecuted person. I’d never thought of him as someone whose family had gone through so much for the freedoms they had. He was just a buddy I’d been screwing with. Needless to say Fraser and his family forgave me that night, and even spent some time explaining their Acadian roots to me. By the time I’d left for home, the damage had been repaired, but it left a mark on the school, and the rest of our friends, that had yet to be resolved. Curtain lifts, and in steps my old man to fix the unfixable. My father was a very senior person with one of the major banks in Calgary back in the day when that still actually meant something on a societal level, and when he spoke people listened. Particularly the principal and his staff, whom my father on a good day typically treated with the respect one gives a dog as he urinates on your lawn. That is to say, they were all scared shitless of my Dad. He felt very strongly that the school system was highly inadequate, and failing to teach his children anything of relevance. I suppose in retrospect, given this particular occasion, he was right. The morning after the incident, he called the School Principal, the School Priest, and Frasers Dad, and asked them to meet him at the school, with special mention to Frasers father to bring his lad. He grabbed me, his smokes, and drove over to the school with a look that even the Devil would have cowered and withered from, and upon arrival at the principals office, deposited me beside Fraser outside the office, took Fraser’s Dad by the arm and stepped out into the hall. I could hear him apologizing to Mr. Fraser for his lack of responsibility in educating his sorry excuse of a son, and promising Mr. Fraser that the oversight had been corrected, and his son suspension would be as well. All this with one hand in his pocket, and his other hand holding a lit cigarette. With that, he and Mr. Fraser walked into the principals office… and proceeded to rewrite the way my Junior High would treat incidences like this for the rest of time. I vividly remember Fraser and I attempting to lose ourselves in the seat cushions of the couch we sat in, the gathering crowd of students and teachers in the hallway outside the office, and the poor secretaries who looked like they’d rather be anywhere but where they were, as my father proceeded to literally lift the roof of the school off with the level and fury of his voice. For 15 minutes all we could hear was my Father tearing a new asshole in the sides of the heads of the principal and the Priest, and the feeble attempts to defend themselves by saying they were looking out for my fathers son. This only generated more derision, laughter, and general abuse from my father, at a volume that could easily be heard across the entire school. After a few minutes and some, shall we say, muted conversation, the principal, and the Priest, came out of his office, and apologized to Fraser and informed him that he was reinstated in school, then looked at me and informed me I was suspended from school for three days, and the look on the principals face was one of embarrassment and contrition. The Priest had always been a bastard, but you could tell he was none to happy either. The old man took it one step further by making the principal explain the reversal to the entire school, the why and what for. I have no idea to this day exactly what the old man said to that principal, but from that day forward my principal avoided me like I carried the plague. I tell you this story to make a point. We allowed our Government to pervert our traditional “welcome” attitude. We castrated our society with propaganda about how evil Western civilization has been, and how we had to provide opportunity for immigration because we had a responsibility to provide succor to displaced peoples, peoples whose homes were ravaged by war or famine, to do the right thing. To some extent that was definitely true, but on the other hand, are we to bear the burden of the follies of our fore-fathers to the detriment of society in the present sense. I personally do not think so. We have a duty to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past, but we must never try to ignore that they occurred. Not once did our Government in 30 years let people migrate here and become Canadian. Instead, under the banner of “multiculturalism” and the “Mosaic”, the Government let people in with no education about the country, no basic language skills, no sense of duty, or obligation, and no fundamental understanding that when you come to Canada, you leave your shit piles at the doorstep. Hell, at one point, if you had a $150K, we’d sell you citizenship with no status criteria. Come on in, we don’t care if you’re a war criminal, a terrorist, or whatever, just come on in and join the party, but make sure you stand over in that corner, because you are distinct, you are special. Not only did we cheat these various peoples of what the meaning of Canadian is, but we assisted them in the act of “self-segregation”, by funding cultural distinction, allowing them to enter the country with no language skills, which in turn forces an individual to congregate into communities where there was nothing but their own peoples, and hang-ups, just to survive. All this, in the name of favors for votes. We wrap it up in the need to increase our population, because we don’t have enough children, but in the end, it was the votes, and the votes of the future babies, that counted. The rest has just been sound bites for the media. I miss the old Canada where we just didn’t give a shit where you came from, as long as you could appreciate a good winter, the maple leaf, the national anthem, didn’t piss on our flag, and generally contributed to the nation, you were okay with the rest of us until such a time as you proved otherwise. Don’t misunderstand me, we have always as individuals and as a collective, had our prejudices in Canadian Society, but never have these prejudices manifested themselves into the dynamic that our vaunted “Mosaic” has allowed to propagate. We didn’t have individuals living in this section of the city or that section of the city out west. You just lived where you could afford to live. There’s always been the French/English dynamic, the White/Indian dynamic, and who could ever forget the East/West dynamic, and yes in older cities you have your Italian section, or your Jewish section of a city, or the whatever section, but never such a pronounced segregation of population as we do now. I personally believe Canada’s immigration policy has left both the nation and the people coming here a lot poorer in the last 30 years, and while I can’t stand Jason Kenny personally, I have to say “good on you” for bringing Canada first and foremost to the center of the immigration policy, and for enunciating the efforts of all Canadians, and our very proud history. The concept of a Mosaic was to be a blessing, a union, a light in the night sky telling the world there was another path, and if we don’t correct it in the next few decades, it will become the disease that undoes our nation. How many Canadians know that we are the only nation to successfully invade the US, and burn down the White House? How many Canadians know who Laura Secord was? How many Canadians know that Thomas Cook did more than just become a travelers cheque? I asked a young employee of mine last Friday to explain to a new migrant from the UK about the Beothuk Indians on the east coast, as we do a lot of work with First Nations, and he wanted to know why there were no reserves in NewFoundLand. The employee looked at me like I was from Mars. “What’s a Beothuk?” he asks me… “A principle part of Canadian history you uneducated bum”, I replied. I learned about the Beothuks in grade school. What the hell do they teach children in school today? It sure isn’t about the history of the nation. So many people have gone into the creation of this country and when you come to Canada, and want to live here, you need to know this, otherwise you can never know what we as Canadians truly cherish. We fought in 1812 against the Americans, we fought in 1894 in the Boar War, again in 1914, and in 1938, only to face war again in Korea. We stood the line between Israel and Egypt when no other nations would, and marched the walls of Cyprus to keep the Greeks and Turks from each others throats. We screwed up in the 70’s and gave India nuclear power, and spent lives uselessly keeping the Serbs and Croats from doing something they had 1000 years of practice doing before we were even a location on a map. We built the longest bridge in the world, and share the longest undefended border. We have a rotating restaurant in every major city in the country, and most of them serve shitty food. We’ve exported Tim Horton’s and imported Tamil Tigers, and in many respects we are the most irresponsible nation on earth, in others we rank high in responsibility. We have the arrogance to think we are the beacon of social democratic light, yet we bless other nations with our incurable, deficit incurring health and housing programs, creating new dilemma’s that didn’t solve the old ones, all the while allowing our democratic process to slowly erode and fail. Through it all, we simply seek to live, and we wish nothing more than others being able to do the same. These are just a few of the many things that make us Canadian, and we should be shouting them to the world, and making sure that when someone gets off a boat or a plane, they learn the principle values of being Canadian, and they learn the inescapable truth of being Canadian, and that’s that we will die to keep our freedom, and we will die so that others keep their freedom. Nothing else counts, if it isn’t through the freedom we hold, and the fundamental understanding that everyone bleeds red beneath the skin. Canada is a story of great hardship, perseverance, and ingenuity. We have overcome such amazing adversity, and quite frankly, a great deal of it brought on by our own stupidity. The least we can do for a new immigrant is extolling the virtues of our nation, and the lessons we’ve learned, and why they need to throw away the old and embrace the new. No one will stop you from being who you are, or refuse your personal history, but as Canadians all of us must ask that you hold onto your identity in the context of embracing a new Canadian identity working in lockstep with your cultural one. Otherwise the long term prospects for this nation are dim at best.

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The Dispossessed: An Ambiguous UtopiaA Novel by Ursula K. Le GuinWinner of Nebula Award in 1974 and Hugo Award in 1975​回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？周四坐同事车去了一趟surrey ，一路都和她speak english (西人），wow好大的walmart , 里面东西满多的，就是人少了点，听说很多印度人住在那里，可是到没有看见几个印度人，奇怪。

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？周四坐同事车去了一趟surrey ，一路都和她speak english (西人），wow好大的walmart , 里面东西满多的，就是人少了点，听说很多印度人住在那里，可是到没有看见几个印度人，奇怪。点击展开...俺也忍不住了，“哈尼，你这段话想说什么？”哈尼平常想说话的时候，是不是找不到足够的听众呀？

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？针对楼主的特殊情况，偶觉得以后找个白人一起捡菜是个不错的办法。

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？俺也忍不住了，“哈尼，你这段话想说什么？”哈尼平常想说话的时候，是不是找不到足够的听众呀？点击展开...据说温哥华疯人院里跑出来一个疯子的传说是真的么？

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开心了就笑，不开心了就过会儿再笑！ 高兴了就乐，不高兴了就使劲乐！回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？哈哈， 有机会准备带上几个中国老朋友，小朋友捡菜去。告诉mall里的经理，把你们丢掉的菜给我们几个中国人留下。

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？据说温哥华疯人院里跑出来一个疯子的传说是真的么？点击展开...假点点同学又有纯理学新论文写了，题目暂定，《论从高到低，从低到高之势能变态过程之研究（加拿大移民版）》。博导：AIM当家的。

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？据说温哥华疯人院里跑出来一个疯子的传说是真的么？点击展开...对嘹，纠正一个错误观点，温哥华貌似木有疯人院地。据说以前有一个，后来经费不足，加上洋人们认为，这病没治，而且在外面瞎逛，忽悠人，也是这些童鞋们的人权。同时，这些童鞋在正常人群中还能总把自己当回事，自信心豹增，更有利于缓解病情，所以全部遣散了。另外，那个老缝纫院离俺们村不远，风景优美，环境优雅，不去住，可惜料了。

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？哈哈， 有机会准备带上几个中国老朋友，小朋友捡菜去。告诉mall里的经理，把你们丢掉的菜给我们几个中国人留下。点击展开...哈尼，俺建议你做就做嘹，吃就吃嘹，不用喊出来。毕竟去理发地人，怎么也交了几刀，就算木有高级服务，也不会希望有双烂菜叶味的手，在脑袋边转来转去，哈尼，你说呢？

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？4L的Joke文实在太长,看不下去. Are you Joking?

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？4L的Joke文实在太长,看不下去. Are you Joking?点击展开...移民加拿大的人居然不能阅读英文文章, THIS IS A JOKE.

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The Dispossessed: An Ambiguous UtopiaA Novel by Ursula K. Le GuinWinner of Nebula Award in 1974 and Hugo Award in 1975​哈哈， 有机会准备带上几个中国老朋友，小朋友捡菜去。告诉mall里的经理，把你们丢掉的菜给我们几个中国人留下。点击展开...哈尼，拜托不要打着中国人的旗号。虽说你愿意自己去捡，没人说你。那是你的人权。但打着中国人的旗号去丢人现眼就不好了。

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？据说温哥华疯人院里跑出来一个疯子的传说是真的么？点击展开...

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税务局奖15%协助举报海外逃税，想赚钱的知情者积极举报，包括“太空人”房东等逃税者回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？红人，顶

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？小窃的帖子个个都火，跟着顶。 百忍成金，再忍忍。

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？哈哈， 有机会准备带上几个中国老朋友，小朋友捡菜去。告诉mall里的经理，把你们丢掉的菜给我们几个中国人留下。点击展开...哈尼同学已经被无限的“快乐”乐坏了脑子。

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回复: 大家觉得自己的英文是怎么提高的？如果英语已经有个稍好的基础了，最好的方法是多看美剧，像什么吸血鬼日记，绯闻少女，绝望的主妇，迷失等，可以学到比较地道的用法，呵呵！！

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