An excellent movie!

I think I’ve talked a lot on here about the “Ohh!”s and the “Ahh!”s of Canada and Quebec. All the pretty pictures, the food, the differences. But what’s this really like for me?


To begin with, this is currently where I am in the grand scheme of the world. As you can see, I’m about as far north as the tip of Maine.


Just right off the fleuve Saint-Laurent (the Saint Lawrence River). I’m about half an hour from Quebec City and 2 hours from Montreal. Sainte-Croix has a population of about 2,300; it’s the size of Maxwell. It has a furniture factory and a few big farms (including the infamous pig farm!). It’s also the site of the public schools for 7 other small towns in the area. It’s known for its gardens in the summer and it has the biggest, most ornate Catholic church I’ve ever seen in a small town.

It’s cold. I mean, really flipping cold. I’ve been through some cold winters in Raton. I’ve seen my fair share of 6 foot snow drifts and I’ve had a few days off from school in a row. But here, it’s just such a completely different kind of cold. It does not get above freezing the entire winter. Their first frost was months ago. It kind of just snows all the time. I think 5 out of the 7 days I’ve been here, I’ve seen snow fall. But the air, the air is so cold. It’s about 90% humidity on any given day. Taking a breath fells like pneumonia every time you’re outside.

People have these temporary car ports and porches made out of tarps and beams in front of their house, just because it reduces the amount of shoveling they have to do. That’s the other thing, you wake up and shovel your driveway. It’s just a given. Interestingly enough, SUV’s aren’t popular here. Good tires on little cars: very popular.

The snow just stays all winter. It never gets hot enough for it to melt. It’ll be here til March, all two feet of it, plus whatever else they get. It’s like a ski resort. It's also interesting that the sun sets at about 4:00 here. It's pitch black by 5:00.

So, that’s been interesting to adjust to. Most people just stay inside as much as possible. I’m really freaking glad I spent $50 on that coat from Old Navy, because if I hadn’t, I’d have frost bite by now. I also have decided I really should have invested in a really warm beanie and an awesome seat of gloves before I left. Wal Mart outerwear ain’t cutting it.

But, I don’t mind the cold. It’s a lot easier to get warm in the winter than to cool off in the summer. It’s just that first minute of when you leave your house… that my friends, is unbearable.

So, there’s the weather. And there’s the language.

Never have I been to a foreign country where a language other than English is the primary language (unless you could Hecho N K-Za shows). I think I’d be okay going to Mexico or anywhere in Latin America. I’ve got enough Spanish down that I’d get by, pretty well actually. My French, on the other hand… it’s damn embarrassing. And for several reasons. The first, of course I just don’t know any French. Which was kind of dumb of me to come all the way up here, knowing it’s a French speaking country and not try to learn at least a little bit. And the second, when you get up into these little villages, outside of the big cities, they hate English speakers. I really can not stress that enough. As angry as I used to get when a Mexican would cuss me out in Spanish at the bar for not knowing their language, that’s how angry people get when I open my mouth here. I’ve been sheltered from it a lot, as my family are the nicest people I have ever met and they want nothing more than for me to feel completely at home. But, I’m not retarded. The looks people give me at the Post Office or at the mechanics yesterday (more about that later) are enough to burn me into the damn ground.

There’s several reasons for it. One, would you like a language that conquered you? No. You would not. Two, as my cousin Lucie put it, lots of French Canadians can speak English. Almost no English Canadians can speak French. And three, the biggie, the immigration.

I guess I’ve always been used to it, having immigrants come to where I live. And I am all for letting any person who wants to be able to gain citizenship. It’s kind of a given that if you want to immigrate to the United States, you should probably know some basic English. Here, no. The immigrants come in, from the United States, mind you, and all they want to speak is English. And they’re winning out.

Slowly, but ever so surely, the numbers of English speakers are growing. Only 80% of the country know considers French to be their primary language. That is unheard of. There’s definitely a subset of the population, mostly in Montreal that doesn’t seem to care. English or French, it makes no difference. But in Quebec City, people care a whole lot. So much in fact, Quebec has tried to break away from Canada and become its own separate nation a few times. It never quite makes it. And with the number of English speakers growing and growing, it never will.

The other issue is the public schools. There are public schools for English speakers, as per Canadian law. BUT, Quebec law states that your children must attend a French speaking primary school. (This is another important thing: Criminal law in Quebec is exactly the same as the rest of Canada. Civil law, on the other hand, is completely different. While they weren’t able to ratify a complete separation from Canada, they were able to ratify an independent civil government.) You can send your kids to an English school if you send one of them to an English private school, from whatever age. Then, the rest of your kids can go to English schools. Lots and lots of people are starting to do this, as immigrants are having children. So, a lot of people in Quebec are watching their language die.

I know a lot of people don’t see the big deal. But it is a huge deal here. Quebec is a very proud nation. The QUEBECOIS are extremely proud of their heritage, since, like I said, most of them got here on a boat 300 years ago. It’s like 505 pride times ten. Possibly losing their language is losing a huge part of their culture.

So, it’s kind of sad for me to watch. But maybe even sadder that this is my heritage and I can’t speak the language either.

So, on top of all of this, I’ve never been close with my family. I’ve been so far away from them, yes, but, just like any other family, there were a lot of disagreements, and a history of mental illness I would argue, that kept (and keeps a lot of us) apart. So, here I am, confronting years of fighting that I never understood. I get here, and they’re all so loving and accepting that it almost hurts me that this part of my life was missing for so long. And now, that it’s here, I almost don’t know what to do with it.

I’ve always made my own family, because they’ve been so far away. I have some of the most amazing friends turned family that a girl could ask for. You know who you are and you’ve seen me through so much over the years. Those relationships are the best I’ve ever had, because, of course, they’re by choice and not by blood. But, just to walk into an environment and be handed that instantly; it’s shocking. And a part of me doubts it, just because it hasn’t been time tested. Maybe they’ll be done with me after I leave. But an even bigger part of me doesn’t want this to ever leave. So, all in all, I’ve had a really emotional week.

I guess what this really is, is step one. Etape Une! I have to come back. I will be back. I can’t think of this as the one time, the one chance I’m going to get. I’d really like to find an intensive French program through one of the colleges that I can afford. There are lots and lots of them, but they’re fairly expensive. So, probably not this summer, but maybe the one after. I’d love to bring my mom up here for Christmas next year.

And THAT’S what I think about that.

And now why was my truck at the car hospital? I've had an issue with my windshield wiper fluid for I don't even know how long. Years. It just doesn't come out. In New Mexico, it's not a big deal. My windshield is just normally a graveyard for bugs. But here, it's pretty important. With all the snow and muck and the semis spraying it everywhere. Turns out, the tube that feeds the fluid was pinched shut from a collision I had years ago. HUH.