And we're back.
Back in stinky (literally) TR. Things here are as always, only muggier and rainier. I keep trying to banish the rains to the west of the country, but my powers must be on the fritz. Other than that, things are pretty quiet around here. The cats (and boy) are glad to have me back. I'm glad to be back too, but I think I'm experiencing withdrawal or something. We had a barbecue on the back patio the other night, but it was just with us. What's that about? No people, no playing cards, only one bottle of wine? I'm sure once I get deeper into my planning and lists I'll get over it, but it seems I miss spending time with family types.
For Canada Day yesterday we hid out from the rain in our fave local cafe with a few books, enjoyed a pint at our fave local pub, and sangria at a place near us -- it has our fave patio and okay sangria, but the food isn't too good and the service has been crap lately. The patio was full unfortunately. The crappy service made me cranky.
We did have a fabulous fireworks display, which the city has now moved so that we can see it perfectly from our balconies. Excellent. I'm told that these fireworks were much more intense than the fireworks for St-Jean Baptiste, but not as well attended. Does that mean some federal funding body is pumping money into Canada Day fireworks in Québec? I have to wonder, especially as they are cutting money everywhere else (cultural capital of Canada, festivals, etc.). Who knows. But there were a lot of Canada flags on the streets that I don't remember seeing last year...
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Third time's the charm... almost
What with all the changes in schedules that have been going on around here recently*, we decided to get out of Dodge for a few days. Somewhere not to far, preferably with something interesting to do. We thought about going back to Ottawa, but we were there last summer. The idea of pubs and British-ness held sway though, and we ended up in Kingston. And yes, I was just there last month. And in January as well. But neither of those trips count, because the one in January was to move my sister out of storage, and the other was as a chaperone. So it was like I had never really been after all.
So we booked a place to sleep, hopped in the car, and drove to Canada's first capital city. We ended up in a lovely little B&B near Queen's University, not far from the waterfront.
We ended up spending our first evening in a walk-in clinic. Nothing serious, and I found it excessively funny that somehow I always end up doing something similar whenever I visit Kingston. I swear I've spent more time in the Shoppers Drug Mart there than anywhere else in Kingston.
We had a very relaxed mini-vacation: we spent the morning touring Fort Henry, and the afternoon touring used bookstores and local pubs**.
The next day we were back home again. Short and sweet.
* Me heading off to distant corners of the globe mostly.
** Katie -- you were right. The Toucan really is the best pub in town.
So we booked a place to sleep, hopped in the car, and drove to Canada's first capital city. We ended up in a lovely little B&B near Queen's University, not far from the waterfront.
We ended up spending our first evening in a walk-in clinic. Nothing serious, and I found it excessively funny that somehow I always end up doing something similar whenever I visit Kingston. I swear I've spent more time in the Shoppers Drug Mart there than anywhere else in Kingston.
We had a very relaxed mini-vacation: we spent the morning touring Fort Henry, and the afternoon touring used bookstores and local pubs**.
The next day we were back home again. Short and sweet.
* Me heading off to distant corners of the globe mostly.
** Katie -- you were right. The Toucan really is the best pub in town.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
quatre flashers
Every day, I am amazed by the new driving skills that I have acquired by living in Québec. When we first got our car, I was criticized for driving "too safely". I was a danger to those around me. Crazy moves like coming to a complete stop at a stop sign, shoulder checking, using my turn signals, obeying the speed limit, and leaving 2 seconds of space between myself and the cars in front of me -- all of these caused no end of trouble for the drivers around me.
But experience on Québec roads has taught me the error of my ways. Besides learning the correct way to drive (eliminating all those pesky old bad habits) I've also learned the correct way to park. And I certainly don't mean parallel parking. Maybe people do that in Montréal*, where space is at a premium, thanks to all those scary foreigners with their strange ways and customs. And food**.
No, here in la région, it's much easier to just stop your car wherever you are and turn on your quatre flashers. The four-way flashers. Hazard lights. Need to stop in the middle of a busy street? No problem. Quatre flashers. Double parked? No problem -- quatre flashers. Just stopping for a minute and don't feel like feeding the parking meter? You guessed it -- quatre flashers.
Based on a highly scientific study of parking habits in downtown T-R, conducted from our balcony, people in these parts have serious problems with parking. The spaces may be big enough to accomodate a tank, but it's still problematic. And that's not even counting having to figure out how to use the parking meter... True story: we were once stopped by a young woman who had apparently NEVER SEEN A PARKING METER and asked us how to use it. Not a question of what are the hours or something similar, but she actually wanted to know HOW to work the machine. So apparently, it's not just me who is learning things about how to drive in Québec.
* Where it is illegal to turn right on a red light.
** I'm dying for restaurant options that don't include bad Italian (overcooked spaghetti) or pub grub (variations on burgers, fries, poutine, and club sandwiches). Hello Indian? Thai? Chinese???
But experience on Québec roads has taught me the error of my ways. Besides learning the correct way to drive (eliminating all those pesky old bad habits) I've also learned the correct way to park. And I certainly don't mean parallel parking. Maybe people do that in Montréal*, where space is at a premium, thanks to all those scary foreigners with their strange ways and customs. And food**.
No, here in la région, it's much easier to just stop your car wherever you are and turn on your quatre flashers. The four-way flashers. Hazard lights. Need to stop in the middle of a busy street? No problem. Quatre flashers. Double parked? No problem -- quatre flashers. Just stopping for a minute and don't feel like feeding the parking meter? You guessed it -- quatre flashers.
Based on a highly scientific study of parking habits in downtown T-R, conducted from our balcony, people in these parts have serious problems with parking. The spaces may be big enough to accomodate a tank, but it's still problematic. And that's not even counting having to figure out how to use the parking meter... True story: we were once stopped by a young woman who had apparently NEVER SEEN A PARKING METER and asked us how to use it. Not a question of what are the hours or something similar, but she actually wanted to know HOW to work the machine. So apparently, it's not just me who is learning things about how to drive in Québec.
* Where it is illegal to turn right on a red light.
** I'm dying for restaurant options that don't include bad Italian (overcooked spaghetti) or pub grub (variations on burgers, fries, poutine, and club sandwiches). Hello Indian? Thai? Chinese???
Sunday, May 31, 2009
j' heart montréal
In the middle of a torrential downpour I drove into Montreal yesterday. Usually it's Francis who does the driving in the city -- the excuse being that he knows his way around better, so there's fewer navigational problems. But he was already there. I was meeting him and one of his friends for breakfast. Miraculously, I survived, and thanks to our GPS, I even found the spot*. The weather even cleared up.
We had a lovely brunch and wandered around Mile End. We went to used bookstores and bought the best bagels in the world. We found my birthday present -- a used copy of the two volume Compact OED. Including magnifier. Completely unnecessary and impractical. The perfect gift. We had coffee, went to a movie (Star Trek -- quite good actually, and nothing like the terrible previews suggested), and finished with Reubens smoked meat sandwiches.
Now that's the way to celebrate the end of the session.
* I am totally exaggerating. Montreal is not the impossible navigational challenge I make it out to be. I just never have the opportunity to drive there. But the traffic? There is no exaggerating that.
We had a lovely brunch and wandered around Mile End. We went to used bookstores and bought the best bagels in the world. We found my birthday present -- a used copy of the two volume Compact OED. Including magnifier. Completely unnecessary and impractical. The perfect gift. We had coffee, went to a movie (Star Trek -- quite good actually, and nothing like the terrible previews suggested), and finished with Reubens smoked meat sandwiches.
Now that's the way to celebrate the end of the session.
* I am totally exaggerating. Montreal is not the impossible navigational challenge I make it out to be. I just never have the opportunity to drive there. But the traffic? There is no exaggerating that.
Friday, May 29, 2009
fin du contract
It was my last day of work as an English monitor today, and I couldn't be happier.
Okay, so being an English monitor is actually a pretty great job. Go in, do activities with the students, and take no responsibility for anything. For the majority of people who work as monitors, this is a great deal. And you get a chance to experience life in another part of Canada, and improve your other official language. The pay is pretty good, and the benefits aren't bad (i.e. not having to deal with disciplining students, not having to deal with administration, not having to deal with parents, not having to be at school when there are no students, free trip to Québec City for "training", money for your flights home, etc.). And then there's all the other people who find themselves in the same situation, living away from home in a second language and looking to speak their mother tongue.
I feel almost like I didn't experience the intended purpose of the program. I already lived in Québec when I applied for the job, and will continue living here now that my contract is finished. I have a lovely apartment, a boyfriend, and a (small, too small for my liking) social network here, and my French was pretty good even before I started the job. So I didn't go out of my way to get to know my students, the teachers at the school, the community. I don't even live in the community where I was working*, so I didn't spend a lot of extra time there. Which is hugely different from my experience in Japan, where I may not have gotten to know my students either (what can I say -- I'm lazy, and they all had funny names, were they French or Japanese), but I became much more a part of my community. Let's put it this way -- there was not send-off for me today, and nobody cried.
So somewhere between the differences in culture, linguistics, and my personal living situation, I didn't have quite the same Odyssey as other participants on the program. But then again, I don't think I went in with the same expectations. I think I'll miss the steady paycheque most of all.
*This made it awkward to prepare a guide for whoever takes over my position next year. No, I'm sorry, I can't give you practical ideas about community activities you could join during the year.
Okay, so being an English monitor is actually a pretty great job. Go in, do activities with the students, and take no responsibility for anything. For the majority of people who work as monitors, this is a great deal. And you get a chance to experience life in another part of Canada, and improve your other official language. The pay is pretty good, and the benefits aren't bad (i.e. not having to deal with disciplining students, not having to deal with administration, not having to deal with parents, not having to be at school when there are no students, free trip to Québec City for "training", money for your flights home, etc.). And then there's all the other people who find themselves in the same situation, living away from home in a second language and looking to speak their mother tongue.
I feel almost like I didn't experience the intended purpose of the program. I already lived in Québec when I applied for the job, and will continue living here now that my contract is finished. I have a lovely apartment, a boyfriend, and a (small, too small for my liking) social network here, and my French was pretty good even before I started the job. So I didn't go out of my way to get to know my students, the teachers at the school, the community. I don't even live in the community where I was working*, so I didn't spend a lot of extra time there. Which is hugely different from my experience in Japan, where I may not have gotten to know my students either (what can I say -- I'm lazy, and they all had funny names, were they French or Japanese), but I became much more a part of my community. Let's put it this way -- there was not send-off for me today, and nobody cried.
So somewhere between the differences in culture, linguistics, and my personal living situation, I didn't have quite the same Odyssey as other participants on the program. But then again, I don't think I went in with the same expectations. I think I'll miss the steady paycheque most of all.
*This made it awkward to prepare a guide for whoever takes over my position next year. No, I'm sorry, I can't give you practical ideas about community activities you could join during the year.
Friday, May 15, 2009
la session achève!
I can't believe I haven't updated in such a long time! What can I say -- the end of term does that to you, especially when it makes you write long paper in your deuxième langue. It was an excellent challenge for me, and really gave me the boost I needed with my French, not to mention a good kick of the old confidence.
Well, I won't go bragging about my mad skillz yet -- I had a lot of help, and I had to ask for an extension for said term paper. Thank you gentle professor.
Not only has university finished for the year, but I'm also two weeks away from the end of my contract as an English monitor. A contract that has gone by extremely fast. I've been doing a lot of thinking about this past year, because eventually I'd like to write a juicy tell-all book about the strangeness of pretend English teaching abroad and nearly abroad (hey -- Québec is almost a foreign land -- they talk funny, and have whole other government institutions for my taxes, because everyone loves to do two tax returns).
Next up, I'll be -- hey! look over there! The patio is open and the 5 à 7 is about to start!
Bonne fin de semaine!
Well, I won't go bragging about my mad skillz yet -- I had a lot of help, and I had to ask for an extension for said term paper. Thank you gentle professor.
Not only has university finished for the year, but I'm also two weeks away from the end of my contract as an English monitor. A contract that has gone by extremely fast. I've been doing a lot of thinking about this past year, because eventually I'd like to write a juicy tell-all book about the strangeness of pretend English teaching abroad and nearly abroad (hey -- Québec is almost a foreign land -- they talk funny, and have whole other government institutions for my taxes, because everyone loves to do two tax returns).
Next up, I'll be -- hey! look over there! The patio is open and the 5 à 7 is about to start!
Bonne fin de semaine!
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Three days in Kingston with Option Anglais
It was 5am, and I was up and getting ready to go for the day. Usually, I'm a late sleeper, but today I was getting a ride to Shawinigan to get on a tour bus with 59 students and three other teachers. Destination: Kingston, Ontario. Canada's first capital, home of Queen's University and known for its many penitentiaries. We'd be spending three days there to give the students a chance to visit a real anglophone community, and hopefully learn something along the way*.
Our departure was timed so that we would arrive in Montréal to pick up our guide** just in time for the morning rush hour. Oh joy! Having requested an anglophone guide for our English speaking tour, we were a bit surprised to find out that our admittedly very nice guide was not terribly comfortable in the language of Shakespeare. Nor that of Molière, according to the francophone teacher. Ouch. You know its not good when the tour bus of Secondary 2 students is snickering when the guide tells them when it is time "for to go" somwhere or asks them "are you understood?".
We had a very full schedule though: a tour of Upper Canada Village (a collection of turn of the previous century houses manned by guides in period costume)***. Like Heritage Park in Calgary, but on the shores of the St. Lawrence. After that, a quick cruise through the Thousand Islands, and finally on to the hotel for supper**** before a Haunted Walk of Kingston. Ooooooo... scary stuff kiddies!
The evening was less fun. Our hotel was out in the middle of fast food wasteland, so after the haunted walk, two of the teachers volunteered to take interested students to McDonalds for a snack. I stayed with another teacher to keep an eye on the students who opted for swimming in the hotel pool -- much to the consternation of the guides. Understandably, they were concerned about liability and accidents, having had a death in the past. We were more concerned with the students having something to do for the three hours before lights out. No mishaps, and we were off duty at 11pm when a security guard arrived to keep an eye on things.
The next day it was up bright and early again. After breakfast we were off to Bellevue House, and then on to a guided tour of Kingston. The students were less than energetic, and there were a few we caught sleeping during the tour. Not that I blame them. It's hard work travelling in another language!
Our last stop for the day was Fort Henry, where we were signed up as soldiers in the British Army, circa 1867. Uniforms, muster, inspections -- the works. Including guided tours and a scavenger hunt. And another evening of ghost stories... It was a great visit, marred only by the presence of a pack of princesses in our ranks. They lamented the "icky" food, the lack of showers, and the humidity (we had some light rain) that curled their hair. And do you believe it, there were no outlets for them to plug in their hair straighteners! They had to wait to plug them in on the bus the next day! Seriously. During the ghost tour they almost injured themselves (and my ears) with their screaming and panic. I (and the other teachers) was ready to slap them. Especially the ones who refused to eat because the food was "gross". They reminded me of the group of Alberta students who did a homestay in Japan while I was there, and reacted much the same way (much to the distress of their Japanese hosts). I guess it just goes to show that spoiled adolescents are, well, spoiled.
The evening was rounded out with a big show put on by the students, my favorite part of the trip I think. The students were given free reign to do whatever they wanted, and came up with some highly entertaining skits, songs and other entertainments. Even the teachers (myself included -- I gave an improptu Japanese lesson) participated. The evening wound down with a game of telephone, and then it was time for everyone to go to bed.
We slept in the "schoolroom" between the two girls dormitories. Well, I slept. The two other teachers didn't do so well what with the grandfather clock that chimed every 15 minutes and the heater that made noise every other 15 minutes. At least there were no ghosts!
We ended the trip with an hour of free time in Kingston and a quick tour of the penitentiary museum, before lunch at Swiss Chalet (holy nostalgia batman!) and getting back on the bus. Where we once again arrived just in time for rush hour in Montreal.
In all, it was a great trip and I think the students had a lot of fun (and maybe even got some English speaking in). In the words of our guide, "it was very fun to trip with you".
*One parent complained there was no reason to go to Kingston -- what was there to do there? Wasn't there more to do in Boston or New York? Keeping in mind that this is a group of Grade 7 and 8 students. Because you really want to be crossing international borders and dealing with passports with that age group. I blame a lack of knowledge of Canadian history (and tourism). I heard much the same question from francophone friends.
** No, the guide didn't come with the bus to Shawinigan. It's much more fun to go through the middle of Montréal to pick them up. Weird.
*** Another bump in the road here -- UCV wasn't actually open yet, so the buildings were all locked. So instead of a free visit, we had a guide. Not a grave problem, but not something that speaks well for the tour company organizing the trip.
**** Another problem: hungry, cranky teens; small hotel lobby; and not enough food for everyone. Well, according to the guides there was enough, but there were only drinks for half. If they understood drinks for 30, wouldn't there be food for 30? Hmmmm...
Our departure was timed so that we would arrive in Montréal to pick up our guide** just in time for the morning rush hour. Oh joy! Having requested an anglophone guide for our English speaking tour, we were a bit surprised to find out that our admittedly very nice guide was not terribly comfortable in the language of Shakespeare. Nor that of Molière, according to the francophone teacher. Ouch. You know its not good when the tour bus of Secondary 2 students is snickering when the guide tells them when it is time "for to go" somwhere or asks them "are you understood?".
We had a very full schedule though: a tour of Upper Canada Village (a collection of turn of the previous century houses manned by guides in period costume)***. Like Heritage Park in Calgary, but on the shores of the St. Lawrence. After that, a quick cruise through the Thousand Islands, and finally on to the hotel for supper**** before a Haunted Walk of Kingston. Ooooooo... scary stuff kiddies!
The evening was less fun. Our hotel was out in the middle of fast food wasteland, so after the haunted walk, two of the teachers volunteered to take interested students to McDonalds for a snack. I stayed with another teacher to keep an eye on the students who opted for swimming in the hotel pool -- much to the consternation of the guides. Understandably, they were concerned about liability and accidents, having had a death in the past. We were more concerned with the students having something to do for the three hours before lights out. No mishaps, and we were off duty at 11pm when a security guard arrived to keep an eye on things.
The next day it was up bright and early again. After breakfast we were off to Bellevue House, and then on to a guided tour of Kingston. The students were less than energetic, and there were a few we caught sleeping during the tour. Not that I blame them. It's hard work travelling in another language!
Our last stop for the day was Fort Henry, where we were signed up as soldiers in the British Army, circa 1867. Uniforms, muster, inspections -- the works. Including guided tours and a scavenger hunt. And another evening of ghost stories... It was a great visit, marred only by the presence of a pack of princesses in our ranks. They lamented the "icky" food, the lack of showers, and the humidity (we had some light rain) that curled their hair. And do you believe it, there were no outlets for them to plug in their hair straighteners! They had to wait to plug them in on the bus the next day! Seriously. During the ghost tour they almost injured themselves (and my ears) with their screaming and panic. I (and the other teachers) was ready to slap them. Especially the ones who refused to eat because the food was "gross". They reminded me of the group of Alberta students who did a homestay in Japan while I was there, and reacted much the same way (much to the distress of their Japanese hosts). I guess it just goes to show that spoiled adolescents are, well, spoiled.
The evening was rounded out with a big show put on by the students, my favorite part of the trip I think. The students were given free reign to do whatever they wanted, and came up with some highly entertaining skits, songs and other entertainments. Even the teachers (myself included -- I gave an improptu Japanese lesson) participated. The evening wound down with a game of telephone, and then it was time for everyone to go to bed.
We slept in the "schoolroom" between the two girls dormitories. Well, I slept. The two other teachers didn't do so well what with the grandfather clock that chimed every 15 minutes and the heater that made noise every other 15 minutes. At least there were no ghosts!
We ended the trip with an hour of free time in Kingston and a quick tour of the penitentiary museum, before lunch at Swiss Chalet (holy nostalgia batman!) and getting back on the bus. Where we once again arrived just in time for rush hour in Montreal.
In all, it was a great trip and I think the students had a lot of fun (and maybe even got some English speaking in). In the words of our guide, "it was very fun to trip with you".
*One parent complained there was no reason to go to Kingston -- what was there to do there? Wasn't there more to do in Boston or New York? Keeping in mind that this is a group of Grade 7 and 8 students. Because you really want to be crossing international borders and dealing with passports with that age group. I blame a lack of knowledge of Canadian history (and tourism). I heard much the same question from francophone friends.
** No, the guide didn't come with the bus to Shawinigan. It's much more fun to go through the middle of Montréal to pick them up. Weird.
*** Another bump in the road here -- UCV wasn't actually open yet, so the buildings were all locked. So instead of a free visit, we had a guide. Not a grave problem, but not something that speaks well for the tour company organizing the trip.
**** Another problem: hungry, cranky teens; small hotel lobby; and not enough food for everyone. Well, according to the guides there was enough, but there were only drinks for half. If they understood drinks for 30, wouldn't there be food for 30? Hmmmm...
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