For all you devout Quebecer Catholics out there, you will be pleased to hear that Father Andre is one step closer to becoming an official saint. I saw in The Mirror that the Pope proclaimed that a second miracle has been officially linked to Father Andre, which means he has passed all the hurdles to become canonized. I found out about this not because of any celebration in the streets (there were none as far as I know) but because I read it in some free indie newspaper. The church does not seem to have as much sway over life in Quebec as it used to. At any rate, today I went an visited his tomb at the Basilica/Oratory. I came too late to go all the way up for what I am told is a spectacular view, but I got to see the sunset while in front of the engineering school which is on a large hill. So I am pretty fine on the vistas of Montreal front. I am kind of bummed out since I didn't get to see his heart which I'm told is in a glass case somewhere around here.
After the Oratory, I went to meet up with Sophian (the Parisian who came to Montreal to visit his girlfriend who skipped town). We found a bar for a drink and to watch Montreal play Atlanta in hockey. Oddly enough I was the only one who clapped when Atlanta scored. I did not get nearly as many dirty looks as I was hoping to get which was a little disappointing. But on the bright side, Sophian had his first ever nachos and decided they were pretty good (except for the guacamole). He and I had a very long chat about a wide variety of thing (he doesn't like Sarko, is from the Berber part of Algeria that wants to separate, is studying geophysics and how to find oil) but we had a lot of trouble talking about anecdotes.
I told him about a little interaction I had in a bar on Saint Denis and he chuckled a bit. I then pointed out that he has been in Montreal a lot longer than I have but he hasn't told me any stories about his time here so far. The thing is I said that in French and to say "story" I said "un histoire" which evidently didn't mean what I think it did.
After lots of confusion, translations, retranslations and hand motions I realized I had asked him to tell me about booty calls he has made in Montreal. Woopsy. I looked pretty stupid then. But everything was evened out when the bill came (separate checks) and he was short on cash because he didn't know that in Canada, as in the US, prices on the menu do not include tax and tip. The tip thing was particularly crucial as in France I am told you generally do not tip. The waitress and I explained the situation to him and the reasoning behind it to his satisfaction. Yay for bridging cultural gaps!
We then parted and I headed off to Rue Crescent, where I heard my fellow Anglophones hang out. I went to a bar called "Brutopia" where they were having a trivia night. Towards the end the host told us how he's been doing this for three years and tonight is his last time* and how he was thankful we were all here. He said, "you could go to the bar across the street and get date raped, or go next door and spend $9 a pint, but you came here. Thank you"- looks like I dodged a bullet with that one.
I ended up spending most of my time chatting with an Isreali girl named Dennit who has lived in Montreal for 14 years. Tomorrow she is taking me on a tour of the city (after I go to the Biodome) and will drive us up Mont Royal which sounds like fun. She made the offhand comment that I didn't look American because I wasn't "wearing plaid and breaking things." I still don't know how to take that comment.
I rounded off the night with a 99 cent slice of awful pizza (with ranch dressing though, so not too bad) and now I'm off to bed so I can get up early and go to the Biodome- I hear there are penguins there so I am definitely going
*for some reason I keep going to bars for the first time that are having important last times going on.
So...instead of a book, can I have your new friend for Christmas? I can't believe that you met a Berber Parisian in Montreal. That is too cool, and I am majorly jealous.
Posted by: Allison | 12/22/2009 at 08:51 AM