I suppose last weekend in Paris wasn’t enough French culture for me, I’m ready to push forward to Montreal tomorrow! And you can be sure I will be on the hunt for some poutine. It’ll look like this, but with cheese curds:
NOT poutine, but halfway there…
I got my first taste of poutine during my one-year stint in Banff, Alberta, a resort town in the Rocky Mountains where you will find probably the largest Quebecois population anywhere outside of Quebec. I worked with them, lived with them, partied with them, and grew to be quite fond of French Canadians. I was 18 and 19 years old at the time, and it was my first time living outside of my parents’ home. An impressionable age, to be sure, and I’d been quite sheltered up until then. My French Canadian friends introduced me to so many things for the first time: music of all genres, new places, experiences, ideas. I owe much of my early passions to them, because they were such passionate people. They seemed far less self-conscious in their identity and how they appeared to others, and they were always happy to share their culture and verve with me, no matter if there was often a language barrier.
In fact, even though tomorrow will mark the first time I have ever visited Quebec, when I returned to Canada from overseas in 1995 I was convinced I should either repatriate myself to Montreal or Vancouver. Vancouver won out, because that’s near where my family lived. Otherwise, I would’ve ended up in Montreal and that would make for an entirely different story…
I think I’m in a minority in this country when it comes to appreciating the French Canadians. But that’s OK, I’m more accustomed to being in a minority than a majority in most everything. This Canada Day long weekend I’m looking forward to being around the French Canadians again, soaking in the ambience of Montreal, and eating my way around the city!
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