Around ~2008 I was in a Barcelona hostel and met a guy there. He started speaking and I interrupted him excitedly…“Oh you’re American!!”.
He looked down…the weight of pain curdled the air around us. You could sense deep sorrow welling beneath the surface of this man. He paused for what felt like an eternity to compose himself,
He looked up with a piercing, but harrowing, stare and said “No, I’m Canadian…”
I’ll never forget that moment. That sheer depth of emotion is something I haven’t experienced before or since.
Did I silently murder this poor Canadian soul? How do Canadians cope with the mistaken identity?
Born in Canuckistan, I’ve lived in NY + WA and I work remotely with LA+GA people.
Yanks pick out the Canada right away, and Canucks spot the dialect mods at similar pace. Neither country is confused about my origins, though.
When I’m abroad, I remember to be polite as my mom taught me, and no one seems to mistake it.
The main thing is that we need to set ourselves apart from the States and the rest of the English-speaking Commonwealth by our demeanor rather than by accent.