What fascinates me is how all of us speak the identical language, use the very same words, and yet can mean completely various things by them. Words carry context, culture and an entire host of silent assumptions, and nowhere have I noticed this greater than since moving to Canada.
One mistake I still make is once I meet someone I already know. I’ll say, “It was nice meeting you.” Of course I do not mean meet, I mean see. Somewhere along the best way these two words became interchangeable in my head, but they really aren’t. You meet someone once and it is often nice to “see” them afterwards.
Earning, Saving and Spending in Canada: A Guide for New Immigrants
The same thing happens once we travel. I casually tell those that we might be staying at a certain hotel for a couple of nights until my wife gently points out that we’re staying there. We live at home. We stay in hotels. Where I grew up, nobody would have batted an eyelid if I had used the words interchangeably, but in point of fact they’ve different meanings.
The first time someone told me something cost “a madman,” I actually wondered why they called me a madman. It only took them a moment to clarify that Canada’s one dollar coin is known as after the idiot depicted on it. We laughed and moved on.
These are low-stakes conversations. Now imagine how in another way they may behave when the conversation turns to money.
The word that opened the room
Just a few weeks ago I led a workshop in Calgary on the subject of newcomers and money. One of the case studies involved an immigrant who sent money home every month to support his family abroad. My goal was to begin a conversation about budgeting because I believe we frequently overlook the undeniable fact that many newcomers aren’t just paying Canadian bills; You are concurrently supporting parents, siblings or children overseas, and these regular transfers deserve a spot in every budget conversation.
I referred to those payments as transfers and something unexpected happened. Several people within the room assumed I meant salary transfers to the Canada Revenue Agency. For a moment we were clearly talking about two various things, and this little collision didn’t wreck the session, but made it higher. What began as a reasonably easy conversation about budgeting suddenly became a way more detailed conversation about how the identical financial word can mean completely various things depending on where you learned it.
Outside Canada, for tens of millions of individuals, a remittance simply means sending money home to support family members. In Canada, particularly within the business or tax context, the identical word normally refers to legal payments to the federal government. Neither interpretation was unsuitable, they simply belonged to different financial worlds. This moment stands out in my mind since it made me realize how much context we silently attach to financial terms without ever realizing we’re doing it.
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Just a few weeks later, I used to be on the phone with my accountant discussing my company’s year-end. When we were done, I said, “I’m ready to close.” There was a pause. He thought I meant I used to be closing the business. When I noticed that wasn’t the case, his next assumption was way more exciting: He thought my family and I were planning a brand new home. Again I said no. What I actually meant was that I used to be able to close the financial 12 months so he could complete the accounts and file my corporate return. Three completely reasonable interpretations, three completely different conversations, one word.
When a well-known word means something latest
When I began being attentive, I noticed these little gaps in all places. The interesting thing is that it isn’t about financial literacy. Many newcomers know more about money than the systems they left behind ever required of them. It’s just that a word that they’ve used confidently all their lives means something different here, and nobody thinks to say it.
Take “credit.” In much of the world, a balance in your account simply implies that there may be money in it. In Canada, credit scores almost immediately point in the wrong way – towards borrowings, credit scores, lines of credit and debt. So when a Canadian bank offers a “credit facility” to a brand new entrant, it doesn’t mean giving them access to their very own funds. A loan is obtainable that accrues interest. The word hasn’t modified, but your entire underlying assumption has.
Then there may be “hydropower”. In most parts of the world, hydropower is brief for hydropower or anything related to water. In Canada it means your electricity bill. If a rental listing says utilities are included “other than hydro,” a newcomer can easily assume it’s water, when in point of fact they’re being told to establish and pay for their very own electric account. Same word, completely different bill.
Even essentially the most modest tax return can throw people off balance. It is entirely reasonable for a newcomer to listen to about “return” and picture money getting back from the federal government. In reality, the return is the paperwork you submit. The money, for those who are owed any, is the refund. Two different words, two various things, and only certainly one of them ever leads to your checking account. Until someone explains the difference, it really is not obvious.
What in regards to the word “hold”? In most parts of the world it means picking something up or waiting by the phone. However, for those who deposit a foreign check right into a Canadian bank, you’ll hear it getting used in a 3rd way when the teller explains that the cash might be held for five days. To someone unfamiliar with the term, it could possibly sound like their money is being frozen, questioned, or quietly taken away, when in point of fact it’s only a matter of the check taking a couple of days to clear.
I speak a language fluently and am still learning about money
What I noticed is that every economic system has built its own vocabulary – not necessarily different words, but different meanings attached to familiar words. The gap isn’t knowledge. It’s context, and context is a difficult thing to pack right into a suitcase.
Of course, none of this is exclusive to Canada. Every country has its own financial shorthand, shaped by its history and habits, and I actually have little doubt that Canadians abroad would just as happily flick thru other people’s money terms as I and countless others have fumbled through them. What makes them easy to miss is the undeniable fact that the words feel so obvious when you get into them. The kindest thing any of us can do, whether we’re helping a newcomer or simply chatting with them, is to note when a wonderfully normal word might find yourself in a totally different place than we intended.
