Three weeks later…

and it is almost difficult to remember the sensation of walking in several inches of snow during our short stay in Québec City. I intended to continue my account of the experience immediately after the first instalment of the blog, however, many things intervened. Thankfully I documented the trip in some detail offline, so hope to share some of the more pertinent facts and experiences here.

After a fine breakfast on the Saturday morning at our ancient and yet comfortable B&B, during which we ate blueberry pancakes, fresh fruit, cereals, breakfast muffins and a whole host of other good things, we decided to make at least one sortie before the falling snow made this impossible. What had initially begun as forecasted rain, had turned overnight into a heavy fall of snow. Thankfully, the temperature was hovering just below zero, so it was not uncomfortable to set out from our accommodation and head for the Plains of Abraham.

A bit of seasonal snow was not enough to deter the owners of the calèches which ply the streets throughout the year; although we were there as tourists, we’re not completely in agreement with the quality of life that the horses receive, so we passed this mode of transport up for walking on foot. Thankfully, the snow ploughs had cleared the paths up to the Plains, and we were able to have an invigorating walk up towards the old fortifications, in the teeth of continually falling snow. The view of the semi-frozen St Laurence was somewhat obscured by the weather, but if anything, the resulting aerial perspective was mellowing (below).  The uncomfortable mix of architecture in the city (quasi-modern mingling with historic) reminded me of Guildford in the UK, where the historical castle overlooks a concrete multi storey car park and a modern cathedral.

We felt cold and extremely damp after wading through the still-drifting snow up by the battlements, so decided to visit the nearby tourist information bureau and find out where we could visit and still remain dry. Quebec’s tourism is an ultra-organised industry, and our informative guide gave us some great tips on where to dine, and attractions to see. We decided to make our way to the Muséé national des beaux-arts de Quebec http://www.mnba.qc.ca/Accueil.aspx as I had not yet explored the fine arts in my adoptive country. It proved to be a wonderful choice.

The museum housed a running exhibition on the artist Marc-Aurele Fortin, a name I had previously not encountered. I was pleasantly surprised to discover what a talent (and motif) this Canadian artist had, and to view numerous of his paintings and drawings. From the number of landscapes and cityscapes in his paintings, I came to the primitive conclusion that his style is an amalgam of Constable, Lowry and Turner. The figures in his landscapes, even his city views, are small and insignificant “insects”, walking with bowed bodies or seated beneath his towering trees and mountainous clouds.

It was an inspiring visit, and the time we spent in the gallery left us drier and more prepared to seek out our lunch. We did this at the recommended : http://www.cafekrieghoff.qc.ca/home.html

The cafe Krieghoff provided a simple but very well prepared comfort lunch, and also offered a local “pub” atmosphere. It was also surprisingly tourist-free, and we mostly heard French and local accents filtering from the bar. We dined late, and then sought out some replacement socks (the walk on the cliff had left our feet soaked, not being prepared for any depth of snow). We then walked, dried and refreshed, to see the Chateau Frontenac. The first, and lasting impression I have of this building, would be summed up in the word “ostentatious”. It has little more appeal for me as a historian, tourist or new citizen, than Harrods in London had in the past, and we did not take the tour, contenting ourselves with exploring the route back to the main square, where we decided to book a restaurant for supper.

We were feeling slightly negative when we called at the Beffroi, a steak house built into  a hotel in the central square of the tourist district, but this only slightly contributed to a disappointing customer service experience.

http://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g155033-d1140130-Reviews-Le_Beffroi_Steak_House-Quebec_City_Quebec.html

We simply felt that, as non-staying guests, the reservation was made in such a detached and indifferent manner, that we were not happy to return there for supper, and after spending a few minutes in a cafe nearby, watching people slipping over on the freezing rain-covered sidewalks, we decided to forget the unfriendly restaurant and make our way to a place nearer “home”.

http://www.entrecotesaintjean.com/flash/index_fr.htm

We decided on The Entrecote St Jean, in the old quarter just a couple of blocks from the guest house. Not only did we receive excellent service at an extremely busy time, with no prior reservation, the food was cooked to a very high standard and equal to any we have enjoyed in Montréal. It did not have the snob factor of the Beffroi, nor the ambience, but we were more than satisfied that the service made up for this, and it is a restaurant I would feel safe recommending to any friend.

The Sunday dawned with even less pleasant weather, a mixture of melting snow and freezing rain turning the sidewalks into treacherous skating rinks. We almost decided to stay at the guest house until departure time, midday, though this would have been a considerable waste of time. The effects of the chill and damp were also making themselves felt, and we both had colds. The only place of any interest within “winter walking distance” of the station was the farmer’s market.

We enjoyed almost every part of our experience of our stay at the Maison James Thompson, save one; we were not pre-warned that they accept no payment cards, only cash, therefore it was a partial relief to know that I’d packed the cheque book. Even so, this one negative experience was not enough to spoil our stay, where we were very well looked-after. Sylvie’s boots were even provided with a heater overnight to dry them out, a fantastic and sympathetic level of service.

Our trip home was a series of unsettling experiences; firstly, our taxi to the station had to be diverted when we discovered that there was a major fire incident in the old quarter, through which we had to pass. The taxi driver diverted up a steep and extremely slippery hill, and instead of easing off the accelerator when his front wheel lost grip, he simply piled on the gas, so we spent several fruitless minutes listening to shrieking tyres and smoke from the differential before we finally made more progress uphill than down. The farmer’s market proved to be interesting, but many of the products were identical to those available in Montréal’s better supermarkets. We did indulge in some locally-prepared nougat, which was comparable to that from Montelimar, and then made our slippery way to the railway station.

Thankfully the rail service was more efficient than the taxis, despite the weather, and we made acceptable progress Montréal bound. Two families of screaming kids incarcerated in the same carriage with us made it a far-from positive journey, as did the frequent stops to allow the Canadian National freight trains to pass our “lower priority” train on the single track sections, but we rolled into Montréal acceptably on time. The whole experience was a learning curve, but gave us plenty of ideas for future visits. We intend next time to:

• Hire or borrow a vehicle and not be shoehorned into a cattle wagon with hyperactive and undisciplined children,
• Take a trip at a more favourable season of year, though preferably not at the height of summer,
• Stay in a similar accommodation: affordable and comfortable, very quiet, and near to the “action” as far as tourism is concerned.

All in all: a very positive experience, though it left us both with severe infections- these were more likely contracted before we left, and in fairness, were probably provoked as much by the change in routine as by picking up “fresh germs”.

(Above) Mr Ghandi feeling the burn.

A little trip to the North

to the city where the battle for the main language of North America was decided, according to some… at any rate, for us, a restful break from the routine and stress of life in the Banlieu of Montréal, and a debrief for me personally after the stresses of the first exam this year!

Of necessity, our weekend was short, as we decided to take the Via Rail train from Montréal’s Central Station early on Friday afternoon, and return by the same route on Sunday. Rather than blow our budget for the whole weekend in a luxury hotel, we opted fortuitously for a wonderful and historic bed and breakfast in the heart of Québec’s old town. http://www.bedandbreakfastquebec.com/

But I am jumping ahead! For me, the train trip was interesting despite the fact the route lies through the less than inspiring river valley between Montréal and Québec City; for one thing, this was my first rail trip on North American soil; for another it enabled a much closer study of the landscape than that permitted by taking the AutoRoute in the current wintry conditions.

Rail transport in Canada is highly organised, boarding our train involved more formalities than would be undergone to board a pan-European budget flight, and despite the aging infrastructure, shared tracks and ugly station facilities, our departure from the central station was agreeable, especially once we had crossed the shaky Victoria Bridge and left behind the sleepy South Shore town of St Lambert with its one-horse station. (below)

I doubt if rail is even second-fiddle to road transport in this country, which is a little sad. The coaches were old and tired but very comfortable, and the absence of stress inherent with road travel was a huge advantage. The logistics of maintaining a railroad in the fairly remote shooting-box countryside North of Montréal during winter most certainly cannot be easy; despite this, the ride was smooth, and we arrived in Québec’s outskirts several minutes early. One has an impressive view of the St Lawrence River as the train crosses one of two huge bridges into the provincial capital, and glimpses of the more imposing buildings in the city, such as the ubiquitous Chateau Frontenac.

The Gare du Palaise was both imposing and tasteful, something we are not accustomed to in Montréal’s architecture. Though built significantly later, it harked gently to historic railway stations in England, and the old town, when entered by taxi, was redolent of Stamford. I was pleased at the absence of pretentious architecture and also of cold grey granite, as the weather on our arrival was far from welcoming, snow forming slowly and steadily into slush and rain on the steep, crazy-paved streets.

Our welcome at the Maison Historique James Thompson was a most favourable first impression- and thankfully one which lasted! The historical aspect of the ancient house has been tastefully incorporated to make the place charming, romantic and welcoming without being kitsch or artificial. The “security system” particularly tickled me:

An old blunderbuss (I never discovered whether or not it was loaded….) to back up a feature built-in by the Scottish builder of the house, James Thompson-  a “murder hole”! This strange little device initially reminded me of a pillbox loophole, then suggested a very old fashioned mail delivery system or speaking tube, but no… in tandem with the blunderbuss, they offered a significant “deterrent” to would be marauders. Thankfully our hosts spoke English and seemed to have no predisposition against English speakers, and as we remembered the door entry procedure, we had no trouble on returning in the evening!

Our accommodation had everything we needed, in a delightful antique room with every modern comfort tastefully concealed. Being at the top of the house meant that we were very quiet and save for the inhabitants of an aquarium, we had the whole top floor of the house to ourselves.

We had a small supper at Le Saint-James, a resto-bistro very near to our guest house, having spent the evening wandering around the many rather expensive stores which are mixed in with cheap gift shops and “Irish” pubs.

http://manoir-victoria.com/index.php/en/gastronomy-table-manoir-resto-bistro-st-james

We decided to have an early night, as the next day portended very poor weather, and we wished to use the best of our time in the morning to have an excursion. The room, despite being antique, was warm and well furnished, and as previously mentioned, wonderfully quiet. I doubt if that kind of tranquility would exist anywhere on the Island of Montréal.

Our delightful accommodation. On seeing the road in the morning, we were glad to have taken the train!

To be continued…

A hasty catch-up

(The strawberries above are just incidental; needless to say, they are from the USA… but they represent the occasional distortions that occur in everyday life, the things we term “weird”.)

Several factors have kept me from my blog of recent days, among which my evening classes at chemistry have featured heavily. I seem to be experiencing every form of education in Quebec, including the continuing education, professional training programmes and adult education. If I, a thirty something “mature” student find the academic discipline difficult, struggle with motivation and performance anxiety, and even detest much of the homework, how much more so those students going through the difficult teen years! My sympathies to all!

It has been hard for me lately to retain an entirely positive outlook on life, especially with the pressures of class, keeping a household running and searching for work. Seeking employment is by itself stressful and bad for the morale, though it is interesting. Most stressful of all has been trying to manage the time efficiently between all of my various commitments. In my humble opinion, it’s possible to waste equally as much time in “time management” exercises as in a former, less organised state! Only too well do I recall the “miracle” time management books, organisers, seminars and business schemes which my former religious group were so into. Both in retrospect and at the time, these seemed little more than diversions to keep the minds of the members occupied with things other than the outside world. Their protection lies within having a super-organised system which both creates a dependency and effectively distracts the mind, while ensuring that stress levels and pressure keep those more active members from challenging the dogmas.

A very poorly organised learning system has made me fall behind with my course, that is also one reason for my lack of comments on this blog, as I read that to properly concentrate on studies, one has to abstract oneself as completely as possible from the everyday and anything which could potentially be a distraction: no internet, no music, phone shut off, desk cleared of all irrelevant material, in short, exam conditions… these have been helpful to me, as a very easily distracted individual. I have also noticed that my ability to study in a noisy, crowded environment has improved, as it forces concentration. Most stressful is the interruption by an open email page or the phone- or an individual who is asking irrelevant questions. I find it curious that I can now concentrate fairly well even in the noisy cafeteria at Dawson College, where music is piped from several sources and the students are far from quiet

.

Many distractions certainly cause higher stress levels. It’s vital that I learn to control the effect of distractions before I become a full time nurse, as they could otherwise have disastrous consequences. On reflecting on the impact the internet has on my studies, I have to conclude that the illness recently diagnosed and named “infomania” can be a very real threat. The need to persistently check Facebook, email, internal college messaging, texts, even the answerphone, can certainly get a grip on one. Another threat to learning is the amount of time it is possible to waste on a completely fruitless use of a website such as YouTube. This is a double edged sword, as many useful videos are found within this type of site, explaining difficult concepts, showing practical results of theories etc… but also, a search can occupy a lot of time with absolutely no positive result. The internet, as with many other useful tools, can literally be as much of a hindrance as a help.

So, how to combat the stress and mismanagement of time? Spend less time on the internet, including blogging, try to allot time for each and every need, including relaxation, and to think positively about every choice I have made. Of course, the negative has to be considered, but it is still heavily outweighed by the positive: I am homesick, but on the other hand, I am always making a home here with the love of my life; I am finding the course difficult, but that is because we are covering concepts I have always found tough, and we are just arriving at the sections I have already covered; I am unemployed, but at the same time I am not unemployable, and results will reflect efforts. The balance sheet is still ending in black, so overall I believe the balance is there- I have to simply make the most of it!

I am actively planning on starting a proper website when I have found out if it would be better to run a server myself or to use hosting, this is key to my personal development. I don’t intend on  going in for technology, merely on establishing my profile independently of common sources of web media so that I can stand out from the crowd a little more.

More will follow later, when I have another allotment of time for this blog, which I fully intend on continuing!

What’s in a resolution?

Sometimes a wish, sometimes a desire to better oneself, sometimes merely an empty promise! This year, I resolved to cut down on “useless” resolutions; I firmly believe that all of us have an innate desire to be better people, but the real proof of the pudding is in the eating thereof...  I should clarify before I go on, that I regard as “useless” all resolutions which are not kept, and ones which are made in the full knowledge that they won’t be kept!  I wrote down a list of all my resolutions, my hopes, my aspirations, my ambitions for the coming year: it makes for a lot of reading in the original form! Therefore, I did some pruning, and came up with some resolutions which I promised myself, and which I am fully capable of fulfilling:

• To respond more promptly and carefully to my pen pals. This won’t be an easy resolution to keep, but I would say that penpal friendship is still a hobby to me, nay, more than a hobby, as these people are my friends. I will make time in my schedule and room in my wallet to post out my snail mails, and be better organised to reply to those with whom I communicate electronically.
• To study. It goes without saying, that if I don’t make every effort with my Chemistry studies, I have no chance of gaining a place on August’s nursing programme at Dawson. Already suffering the consequences of serious procrastination, my studies are a lot more than a casual whim- they are a route to my career and livelihood, the means to give my family and friends what they need and deserve.
• To better my French. After my French course is over, I will have an attestation to say I sat through the programme, but that will count for nothing si je ne pratiquerai pas la langue du Molière chaque journée! I simply have no excuses, being married to a Francophone and living in this district for over a year. I hope to continue my learning, albeit unofficially.
• There are many activities that I want to get out and do, or stay in and do! As these are aspirations rather than resolutions, and some of them are very difficult to realise, let’s just stick to resolving to concentrate on the activities that others can enjoy as well as myself.

Normally, people compose their New Year messages with some form of retrospective: in my case, I prefer to think in the present, because dwelling on the past never did me any favours. Perhaps some events in 2010 deserve mention though!

 

• Losing my job: while for some people this is a disaster, and yes, it was not easy, yet it gave the kick start to a career I had long wanted to follow! I was beginning to get tired of working in the call centre, trying to sell products against my ethics while ostensibly giving customer service… on a positive note, it did introduce me to some good Anglophone friends and colleagues, gave me a moderate income, and meant that when I was laid off, I could go back to school to take up my ambition of a career in nursing. I survived through my first Canadian Winter, though it was far from typical, and I only had to walk 200 metres between the Metro station and the workplace in the Plateau of Montréal, in slushy snow. The commute was rather a bore, but I enjoyed speaking to Canadians from almost every province, and felt less isolated in a country that had seemed dominated by French speakers at first arrival.

• Outings: Though we did not go as far afield as last summer, we did try out more local experiences, visiting for the first time the Islands of Boucherville, a real treat for a nature lover like myself. We spent memorable hot summer days cycling and walking around our area, exploring and enjoying the fresh air, thanks also to my amazing wife for splashing out on an amazing bike to get me more mobile in the absence of a car!

• Hobbies: Having a bit more free time whilst going back to school and being off work, gave me time to reawaken some hobbies which had taken a back seat while I was working. My Sylvie bought me some art materials to replace those which I had left in England, and inspired by the requests of my fellow students, I took up painting again. I also began writing again to my pen pals, new and old, having realised that this was more than just a hobby, but an important part of my life. A disappointing postal service has rendered snail mailing expensive and disagreeable, but I hope that things improve in the new year. Particularly successful were the paintings which I made for fellow students and also as a leaving gift for a retiring professor at my school!

• School for “francisation”: This has so far been one of the best experiences of my life! I am very grateful to the government which takes such pains to integrate immigrants, by donating free classes to learn the French language. As I already speak one of the official languages of Canada, I was surprised to be accepted, but it means so much to me! Not only do I have better job prospects, but I understand the majority of my neighbours, I can form new friendships and talk to my fellow countrymen, and I feel much more like a part in the society here. I have formed some wonderful friendships that cross the boundaries of race, religion and background, and those close to me have been able to share in those friendships, so everyone has benefitted! I will be immensely sad when the course is over, in late January, but hope to keep in touch with the wonderful students and professors, among whom I am proud to count many friends!

• People! I realised, not for the first time, but stronger than ever, that I am innately quite a sociable person! This has been a year of making and forming many new friendships, with people from across the globe! The picture above, taken this Christmas, is just one example of many, many happy memories, showing my Colombian and Ukrainian friends from the French classes, along with my beloved wife and one of our “girls”! I’m truly grateful to all my friends for helping me to realise that, whatever a restrictive sect tells you, there are many good people out here in the real world, and they are worthy of calling friends in the truest sense. Having these close friends is more healing than years of therapy and counselling, both of which I had originally thought I would need to recover from my past. I now firmly believe that if our past can be treated positively, regarded in a positive light, it is possible to learn from, and even be healed by, the same.

I wanted to close this blog post with thanks for a wonderful year, to all those near to me in heart, for all that you have done to bring me to now:

• My darling wife and soul mate Sylvie
• My family in England, distant from me geographically, but not in heart.
• My wonderful friends at school and in my social life. You know who you are, and you are appreciated!
• My pen friends, without whom this year could have seemed much emptier and rather lonely.

The list of names is huge, more like a block buster end credits, so I truly apologise for not putting the names above- I also wished to respect the privacy of some individuals who do not wish to have their names on the internet, but whose work is nonetheless greatly appreciated by many!

So a good night to the old year, and let us raise a metaphorical glass to 2011. May all of you be blessed!

A special day.

And one which is unforgettable for all the right reasons. A day full of amazing moments, many smiles, some tears, much laughter, and moments of sheer joie de vivre. The occasion? The party held at École Pierre Dupuy, for all the students, professors and monitors from the three classes of francisation.

The day began quite early for me, although the actual party was set for 11am. The bus service was mercifully running to its normal schedules, but I still had a logistical challenge: how to get almost 100 cookies, 25 Christmas cards, a camera, camcorder, mincemeat tart, tripod and mini laptop to school on public transport, without breaking or losing anything! In the event, it was straightforward, and my careful preparation did not go to waste, as I arrived at school with plenty of time to spare. None of the students had arrived, but the room had already been set out the previous days, with tables laid out for dining in a big double room, and a long table down one wall for all the edible contributions.

   The students began arriving in ones and twos, mostly bearing interesting looking parcels and bundles, contributions for the feast to come! I took the chance of having most of our class there early, to hand out the cards which I’d attempted to write in hasty late night French, to all my fellow students and teachers. The professor, who had already presented each of us with a beautiful, thoughtful gift and card the day before, had her turn to receive a present from the students, and it was touching, as this kind of friendship does not often exist between students and their teacher.

 

As more students began to arrive, the large classroom quickly filled with many accents and a whole world of different foods; not only were people practising the French they were here to learn, but also their maternal language. I did not have this luxury, being the sole Anglophone, but this was not serious for someone who has almost completed the final level of the course! The students rearranged the tables so that they were seated with their classmates and teachers, which worked well for all.

Being the “official” photographer was slightly lonely, as I did not get to include myself in too many photos, but perhaps that was for the best! At least I got to do something I really love doing, recording people really enjoying themselves!

After most of the students had found a place at the brightly decorated tables, we lined up to sample the food. There were many dishes, from the four corners of the globe, and it was good to sample a very little of almost everything. Those who went first (our group!) were relatively restrained so that there would be plenty for all, though this proved not to be an issue. The math is simple, if 60 students plus 5 teaching staff all contribute something, there was bound to be plenty!

I did not manage to sample everything, but there was nothing which I tasted that I would not like to eat again. There was plenty of variety, and with the fun to come, it was not great to eat too heavily in any case.

After the dinner, our group put on our performance of our teacher’s poem (awaiting permission to translate and reproduce it here), which worked very well, followed by our rendition of Silent Night in French, Spanish, English and Ukrainian. With candles and a semi-organised choir, it created a very nice and also moving, atmosphere. I felt extremely emotional, as hearing others singing in my native language could be compared to a taste of home, and also a poignant reminder of how far I had come from the repressive culture I was born into. The choir was followed by  a presentation by the professor of the first level, and then the floor was cleared for the dancing. Several had imported music from their country, and almost everybody had a go at dancing to music from Hawaii, Cuba, Ukraine, and a host of others. It was warm but entertaining work, dancing while wearing an elf hat with bells, but I would not have missed it for anything.

After the dancing, which was looking to continue all night, we commenced a game of musical chairs. As I had not taken a huge part in the dancing, I volunteered and was whipped into the game, while a trusty classmate took plenty of photos to ease my mind! It was fantastic fun, and not too challenging to the grey cells, a great way to wind down after a short but intense day of celebration.

So, with a few tears and farewells (only for the duration of the holidays!) we parted company and made our way home, tired and happy, feeling very much richer in spirit and experience than before. The event helped me to realise just how important this kind of activity is, to retain the interest of those who immigrate here, and to help them to feel a part of the society and culture. On a personal level, it was wonderful to be able to call so many diverse people my friends, and was without comparison to anything I have experienced before. I came from an outwardly very close-knit religious group, but one which gave no room for individual expression or happiness- and I found both to be running freely in this party, with none of the negative side effects I had been ‘taught’ to expect! How absolutely right, that one can be taught so much more from people than from books. The professors and monitors of our classes seemed to love their job, and I for one can see that it must be immensely enriching.

With this positive note, I end, but will be posting more over the next few days, as the good times continue.

Tis the season to be active!

The above group of happy people was taken on Friday at the St Joseph’s Oratory, Montréal. All three levels of French classes, together with our teachers and monitors, took the trip to this famous and extremely frequently visited landmark, to better understand the place the church and religion in general have shaped the society we are slowly integrating with.

Although the week had boded ill, with rain instead of snow, and a cloudy start, the sun came out for our entire voyage and we were able to enjoy the bracing air high above the West of Montréal. To see the church and basilica, and to explore thoroughly, requires a lot of standing and walking, and the huge variations in temperature (for example in the chamber of candles, the heat was suffocating, but in other parts the cold of the mountain penetrated to our very bones!). We learned much more about the history of Saint Frère André, and the importance in the local culture of this representative of humility. I didn’t know what to say about the miracles attributed to this undoubtedly influential man, but if the numerous crutches discarded by those who had been healed were anything to go by, he certainly had many successes to his credit.  It reminded me somewhat of Notre Dame de Paris, with all the amazingly well worked pieces of architecture, paintings, windows, and fittings; even though this church is quasi modern, I didn’t find the decor to be extravagant ad nauseum. It did illustrate again for me (as if there was a need!) the power and influence that religion has over people, and how this power does not disappear overnight, even with a tranquil revolution.

The fondness of the Catholics for their relics always amused me, though of course I respect that they have a right to attach a belief to an inanimate object; the relic comprised of the heart of Brother André was slightly bizarre, especially the history of its loss and later discovery in a basement just a few miles away. Always fascinated by the history of people and their effect on society, it was a great experience also to walk around the Crèches (nativity scenes) which were donated by countries around the world. It was especially interesting to note that both Palestine and Israel had contributed relatively conventional figurines, and that these were in fairly close proximity. I was interested to note that the United Kingdom had contributed a nice painting, and close inspection of the detail gave me fresh confidence in my own painting ability and the motivation to continue.

After the tour of the Oratory, I parted company from the rest of the school apart from one classmate, who took the Metro back into Montréal with me. I applied for my Chemistry courses for the January semester and was relieved to note that I had plenty of time to sort these out, though I will face a difficult period when I have to rush from French classes to get to my night classes in Montréal. At least I will be significantly headed towards my goal of eventually taking the nursing course, as long as I can successfully make it through into the programme before my equivalence arrives. Later in the evening,  I met with Sylvie and we treated ourselves to the IMAX experience, to watch Harry Potter. We were most impressed, and now obviously eagerly awaiting the last part of the film!

Today has seen a lot more rushing around, buying decorations and putting them up. We have not swamped the apartment with decorations, and kept the tree pretty much the same as last year, with the important addition of real candy canes to be true to tradition. This Christmas, I hope I will be able to do more than just talk about the traditional things we planned to do last time; visit the midnight mass, hear a choir, etc. I love the ambience of Christmas, though like most, I hate the commercialism and also the hypocrisy of people who don’t normally behave generously, clamouring for recognition for making one paltry donation to charity or being sociable for one day.

I doubt we will be disappointed in a white Christmas, but it may not turn out to be very white; today we had a whole centimetre of snow, which partly melted; this evening, the melted crust has frozen into a sheet of ice, and as I type this I can hear the sliding of cars whose drivers have not yet bought winter tyres. The purchase of crampons to put on my boots will prove to be a necessary evil, I believe. Tomorrow we are to make our way to Montréal for brunch, but I can’t see a few millimetres of snow stopping the buses and Metro.

Winter approaches, but not here!

(and I make no pretences, the photograph of our apartment block above was taken last year after the heaviest fall of snow during that winter!)

I am not  sure whether to be amused, pitying, or even alarmed, on regarding the news and learning that Europe has received a lot more snow that we have so far, and promises more to come! Here, we are experiencing many rain showers, but so far the sum total of our snow barely made it to 3 cm in the drifts. That said, I finally had the chance last week, to experience something which I had frankly been dreading throughout the previous winter: freezing rain. This appellation is not very scary to those  who have never experienced the phenomenon, but to those who experienced it last week, it was far from being a joke. For those not versed in the weather or the climate here, freezing rain is not the same as hail; when the weather conditions are just right, hovering just below zero, the rain freezes immediately as it falls, making a veritable ice rink of the sidewalks and roads. Last Friday, I duly observed the signs and warnings on the TV, and wrapped up warm, also wearing my intermediate boots; this was not enough to stop me from slipping on the top step and bouncing down the whole flight,backpack and coffee flask flying. Maybe my open umbrella helped to absorb some of the speed of my flight, but I was still quite shaken and bruised by the speed and violence of the tumble. The sidewalks were practically impassable, even the seasoned Québecois were tumbling into the road, into the path of traffic which could not always take evasive action. I finally made it to the bus stop by hanging onto the lamp posts and walking on the grass where possible. On finding about thirty people waiting at the stop which I normally share with two people, I suspected there might have been a problem with the transport, and sure enough, the driver of a snow tractor stopped to tell us that there were no buses.

I spent a while trying to contact the school, only to discover that it was closed as a consequence of the ice; I was very surprised, but seeing that the majority of students go to that school by public transit, it figured that school couldn’t function if the pupils couldn’t get there. Bus services and some semblance of normalcy returned by 10 am, but the school was closed for the day, so I enjoyed the chance to relax at home with the wife and family, and to take stock of our preparations for Christmas. I was recently very disappointed to be turned down for the job at Costco, because according to those who conducted my interview, and other staff within the store with whom we spoke, my candidature was fine for the job, and they needed a lot of people. The rejection letter and inadequate explanation was not much of a consolation, and though everyone has to deal with some degree of rejection in their life, I am not sure that this was expected. I still hope to get some form of work for the winter, as life will be very tough if we have only the one income to live on. Thankfully it won’t spoil Christmas too much, as we can afford a few small gifts and cards, plus we already have the tree and some decorations.

Life at school goes on apace, with a couple of birthdays, and the unexpected holiday, taking their toll on the curriculum. I don’t mind going along with the more cultural, less academic exercises the school offers along with the francisation programme, but I do find that sometimes a lot of time is lost sharing things which are best reserved for out of school social times. I have made some good friends at the school, both among teachers and students, and it is a lot less formal than a regular classroom. We have a much easier curriculum lined up for this season, as there are many field trips and other functions in December, the last day of school basically being a party, before we leave on a  comparatively long holiday.

On Friday, we will be visiting the St Joseph’s Oratory http://www.saint-joseph.org/ in Montréal, which promises to be interesting, especially as the different students have little experience of nativity scenes. I am not sure how those with other than Christian beliefs will fare on this trip, and in a sense, their reactions bring about a sense of déjà vu, especially those who have to opt out of birthday and Christmas celebrations. It serves to highlight just how unpleasantly narrow and unrealistically restrictive was the sect which I left; by the same token, though I am not that fond of Christmas and its associated commercialism, the hypocrisy of those who donate money that is not theirs in the first place, or who put on a  nice face for only a few days per year. Not to be too cynical, I love the excitement of unwrapping presents, the beauty of a tastefully decorated Christmas tree, the fun of giving and receiving cards, and the general feeling of bonhomie that exists during that season.

We have another visit lined up, to the Electrium, an exhibition by the company HydroQuebec

http://www.hydroquebec.com/visit/monteregie/electrium.html

, the company everyone here loves to hate. This province is dependant on hydroelectricity to a frightening degree, and of course with such a huge company holding a monopoly, they can do pretty much as they wish with consumer bills. All the same, electricity here costs about one 5th of the price of that in the UK, so it is not without its upside. The visit to the Longueuil Palais de justice was a flop, as the lady who did the talking talked much to fast, and we basically spent one hour listening to a stream of explanations in a stuffy court room. On the plus side, it was only five minutes walk from our school, so we lost no time in returning for lunch! I found it an interesting insight into the criminal justice system here, which is thankfully not overloaded in our region. It was also encouraging to see that I could follow a presentation in French, and came away having understood 95% of what was said, as opposed to 30% when I began the course. The interview with Costco, although having a negative outcome, did at least demonstrate to myself that I can hold my own in this kind of situation. I can’t hold a lively discussion in a group of French speakers, but am always encouraged by the response of those around me in the school. I think that when my course is over and I am plunged once again into the Anglophone world, I will miss these great experiences, these chances to literally immerse myself in the culture not only of my own adoptive country, but that of the other countries who have contributed people to the circle of my friends and colleagues!

This is a relatively picture-free episode, but I hope to rectify that with the developments of Friday and next week, although my free time at the computer is absolutely certain not to grow in the next few weeks.

Hopefully this video of Bibitte, who finally discovered that she is interested in television, will help to offset the lack of photographs!

Bibitte discovers the television!