Easter lunch at the the F… family reunion, on the beautiful island of Ile d’Orléans, in the St.Lawrence river, Québec. You are the only foreigner in this 40-strong crowd of French Canadians. M himself does not know most of the crowd as they meet very rarely, and this is his rich uncle’s house by the way. You are slowly getting used to the weirdness of it all. Especially enjoying the high regard people now seem to have for India. No more mention of elephants and kings, like during your visit to France 10years ago.
After
lunch, served at a huge table with a vast variety of dishes, many of
which you have to ask M's wife A to explain, you go Easter egg hunting with the
kids in the huge beautiful garden outside.
When
it is time to return to Toronto, M calls a taxi for you to go to Québec
City airport. Stéphane, the young taxi driver, has his small baby
strapped in a baby seat in the back. He is delighted to know that you
speak French – and that too “original” French, not the Canadian one. You
are also happy, when you realize that your French hasn’t rusted as much
as you had feared. So we no speaka any English at all.
Stéphane is special – he runs the only taxi on the island! Though it is
quite a sizeable island, with 6 villages, situated in the St. Lawrence
river. Stéphane is from France, he migrated here in search of a better job, 2
years ago. He feels the immigrants are the reason for unemployment in
France - he had to suffer it himself.
He loves Québec, especially the island. During the summers, he and his wife run a bed and breakfast place as there are many tourists to add to their earnings. There is a school on the island too. And it is beautiful throughout the year, though the winters are very harsh. A small place, a quiet peaceful life. He does not miss Paris.
He loves Québec, especially the island. During the summers, he and his wife run a bed and breakfast place as there are many tourists to add to their earnings. There is a school on the island too. And it is beautiful throughout the year, though the winters are very harsh. A small place, a quiet peaceful life. He does not miss Paris.
At times there is a
certain discrimination because he is French French and not French
Canadian – “Mais vous savez, ce qu’on fait aux Algériens à Paris?”[You
know, what we do to the Algerians in Paris?]. “So in a way it all comes
back, oui?”.
At the airport, we shake hands
like friends. We have spent an hour in delightful conversation in the
car, while it was rainy and gray outside. He gives me his number – “Call
me anytime you want to come to Ile d’Orleans. I’ll come and pick you up
in Québec city. Au Revoir et Bon Voyage!”
2006
* Photo from Google Images, copyrighted to Francis Vachon. I can't find my Canada photos.
beautiful ...
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