Montreal, Quebec - 2011

Friday, January 20

I could not believe that I was on the North American continent! I felt like I was in a parallel universe that was the perfect bridge between the two cultures that I now consider my own. I think that most ex-patriots encounter the frustration of not being able to explain what you experience in one culture to the other and vice-versa. Cultural mindsets are so strong that it is difficult to elucidate why a certain joke is funny, a certain reference is touching, or a certain way of thinking is just more liberating. However, in Montréal, I did not have to explain myself. I was surrounded by North Americans that speak French and like peanut butter just as much as they do foie gras. The mix was such that I was often caught by surprise; as if I had received an enormous cultural slap. It was going to a great restaurant, ordering duck confit in French and then having the waitress come back with an enormous glass of ice water. Did I mention there was ice in glass? It was listening to French in the streets and then seeing the shiny smile of someone who had clearly had braces as a child. To top it off, a Jeep rolled by. Curiously, if Québec was the bridge from France to the Americas, even while I was there, I still remained on either one continent or the other. In Québec I was American when I spoke English (albeit not surprising), but French when I spoke French. Apparently, they could hear my American accent and I simply sounded French. What a shock!

Even if Quebec seemed like it was caught between two worlds, it certainly had its own unique culture and I had much to learn. For the little anecdote, when I got to my hotel room, the bed was not made. I called the front desk to inform them and I was escorted to another room shortly thereafter. Again, the bed was not made! The Monsieur looked panicked, made a nervous phone call and finally found a room that was ready. For my trouble, he told me that the déjeuner was on the house. I thanked him, while secretly thinking that his offer was absolutely scandalous! Who stays in the hotel for lunch? I later learned that it was actually a nice gesture and I had my first lesson in Québécois French.

English	French (France)	French (Canada)
Breakfast	Petit-déjeuner	Déjeuner
Lunch	Déjeuner	Dîner
Dinner	Dîner	Souper

   

Il y a de quoi se confondre ! It was easy to have made the mistake! However, it was not just the language. Cultural codes were different too. Apparently, people do not kiss on the cheek very often in Québec whereas this is fairly common practice in France. I learned the hard way! Conversely, I never learned how to say bonsoir (good evening), but I could tell by people’s reactions that I clearly identified myself as an étranger as soon as I spoke these words.

I must say that the people of Montréal were extremely hospitable. Both at work and in the streets I was pleasantly surprised by the genuine friendliness of les gens. Friday night I went to a great restaurant and then a local bar. Although I was alone, within fifteen minutes I had struck up a conversation with some of the locals. It was then that I knew for sure that I was no longer in Paris! That and then the accent! While I had been able to understand most everything at work, folks from the countryside were another matter entirely. Fortunately, because they presumed I was French (despite my attempts to clarify the issue), they found it normal to have to repeat themselves. To French ears, the Québécois accent is so strong that they actually subtitle French Canadian movies in French! Of course, this is also the French way of asserting their superiority over the language. Nevertheless, the accent is quite strong. At the end of the evening, I was asked where I was headed and got a ride back to the hotel without even paying a taxi. I loved these people!  

Saturday, January 21

I got a late start because I had been out later than expected. I headed into town around three and went to the island (l’île Saint-Hélène) to see the fête des neiges or the snow festival. It was the Christmas fantasy of every Californian child: dog sleds, horse sleds, ice skating, ice sculptures, an ice castle and even an ice bar (albeit more for the adults!).  Did I mention that it was -22°C! I was so not equipped. Even in two pairs of socks, boots, jeans, two long sleeve shirts, two sweaters, a jacket, scarf, gloves and two snow hats… I was still cold!

From there I walked along the quays of the frozen port in the Vieux Montreal and went to Notre-Dame, the basilica on the central square. The church was stunning. We are so in want of historical architecture on the west coast. The church was built like the old cathedrals often found in the provinces of France. The difference was that this church was actually kept up including the intricate paintings on the interior walls. The colors reminded me of something out of the book Revelations. It definitely made me feel like worshipping God.

Montreal is the largest city in the province of Québec, the second-largest city in Canada and the fifteenth largest in North America. The word Montreal is derived from Mount Royal, the triple-peaked hill located in the heart of the city, whose name was initially given to the island on which the city is located. Culturally and economically, the province of Québec is by far the most interesting part of the great white north. I learned that Québec was formally known as New France when it still belonged to the French. It was George Washington who set the stage for the French and Indian war by launching an attack on the Canadian soldiers without any proclamation of war. As a result of this war, Nouvelle France was lost to the British. On every Québécois license plate is marked the cryptic phrase je m’en souviens or I remember. The origins of this phrase are unsure, but I personally believe that it is a reference to the people’s French origins and the battle that took place to integrate them into Canada.  

If I had moseyed along the river and over to the central square, it was to meet up with a colleague from Paris who had recently been transferred to Montreal. We spent a fair amount of time catching up and as we walked through the city she pointed out all of the light shows. I was lucky enough to be in Montreal for the festival of lights! She then took me to see a rooftop lounge bar where we had cosmopolitans and a spectacular view of the city. That evening, it was the birthday of a friend of one of her friends and I had managed to tag along. We were a mix of French and Canadians… oh yes… and one American; I almost forgot! We had a brilliant time. After a drink, someone brought poutine.  This was the second time that I had had poutine, the traditional French Canadian dish and I must say that my first experience had not left me wanting more. It is basically the American version of chilly cheese fries with a special sauce. However, when your @$$ is frozen (pardon my French) and you have had a beer or two… or three; poutine is the very thing your body must have! I guess some things just need to be tried in the appropriate context. It was another great night in Montreal.

Sunday, January 22   

Again, I had a late start on Sunday for the same reason that I had had a late start on Saturday, but it did not matter because Sunday was my day of rest. The only thing on the program was the Scandinavian spa! Scandinavians are a crazy people and enough of them have immigrated to Québec to leave their mark on the culture. Thanks to my Finish friend Katri, I had a pretty good idea what I was in for. Basically, you cook yourself in a sauna or steam room until you are about to pop at which time you jump into freezing and I mean freezing cold water. The thermal shock is exhilarating at first, but then leaves your body in a complete stand still. Once you get to the point where can no longer remember what stress was like, you have a good cup of tea and curl up for a nap. I was no exception.

I’ll have to come back to Québec in the summer!