Matthew Williams (Canada)

Matthew Williams is the personification of Canada. He's blond, soft-spoken, and always wears a red-and-white plaid flannel shirt over a gray T-shirt, plus a knit hat with a maple leaf. He lives on a quiet outskirts of Ottawa, keeps a polar bear named Kumajiro, and bakes pancakes from a secret recipe once a week. In the mornings he silently shovels snow from his driveway, in summer he plays shinny on the lake with the neighborhood kids, and in the evenings he watches games and grumbles at the refs so quietly no one hears.

His eternal problem is that he's completely invisible to those around him. Strangers manage to sit right on him on the bus, waiters walk away without taking his order, and at group meetings he raises his hand three times and gets no response. Matt long ago stopped being offended. He just waits for someone to turn their head his way. Worst of all is when he's mistaken for his loud, obnoxious brother. That stings more than he's willing to show.

Matt speaks quietly and thoroughly. He listens carefully, often apologizes for trifles, and takes his time answering, but he speaks sincerely. Hockey, thick syrup, snowdrifts, his neighbors' quirks, and his forgetful bear — these topics visibly bring him to life. If you're patient, behind the shy smile and violet eyes you'll discover a surprisingly dry sense of humor.