Random thoughts on Canada, from a lower-48 perspective...
Quebec is a major market for my software, something I can only pull off with the help of a Montreal-based company we partner with. But keeping up with their demands requires effort disproportionate to the size of the customer base. I can't even escape it here. They keep sending me more translation requests via email, each marked "Urgent". It's often something quite trivial, where the difference between the English and French spelling is a single trailing character, nothing to impede a user's understanding of the message.
In any other country in the world, save perhaps France, software users are content with English prompts. In the 80's I attempted to enlist help for a German translation of the software I was working on back then. My German counterparts in Frankfurt said it wasn't worth the bother, that nobody cared.
It should be noted that eastern, central and western Canada have quite distinct personalities, just as those regions do in the U.S. Saskatchewan reminds me of Alaska, a place where "characters" are not only tolerated but expected. Alberta is home to rugged individualists, a lot like its neighbor Montana. Also has a similar number of alcoholics. But most of my time in Canada has been spent in B.C., which might as well be a suburb of Seattle, such are the similarities. B.C. doesn't feel like a foreign country. Texas does. Alabama does. Sometimes, even Southern California does. Boston, most definitely. But B.C. feels like home. At least, as long as I don't attempt to follow local politics.
Curiously, packaging and signage are required to be in both English and French, and in the same font size. Even when the English and French words are the same! Odd, because if there is an unofficial second language in B.C. it's Chinese, not French. And when I go to Quebec, I notice that the same requirements don't seem to be enforced there. They don't even use international signs consistently, such as the circle with a bar to indicate "do not enter". Don't ask me how I found that one out.
My friend JP (Jean-Paul, natch) explained some of the curious dichotomy that is Quebec. Apparently, long ago the city of Montreal was divided into English- and French-speaking sectors, lines that represented socioeconomic delineation that were not to be crossed. The English section had the nicest homes, the wealthiest families. If you were a French-speaker chances were an English-speaker was your boss or owned the company you worked for. A lot of class resentment built up, and over time the English-speakers began to migrate away from Montreal, replaced by newly upwardly-mobile French-speakers. They've been gradually taking over the city ever since. Or re-taking it, depending on your perspective. But they still have a chip on their collective shoulder.
Today it's a schizophrenic city. If you greet someone with "good morning" they effortlessly switch to English - at least within the service industries I deal with. But even if English is a prerequisite for employment, say in a hotel, an emploer faces a fine if you don't offer an employment application in French. JP says some agitators actually apply for jobs they have no interest in, just so they can turn the companies in if they're handed an English form.
My experience has been that the French-speakers are much more tolerant once they find out I'm American, and not one of those snobs from the other side of town. Unlike most of the rest of the world beyond North America, where I tell them I'm Canadian.