Spiders, old houses, Squirrels & Trees... I'm getting used to it!

Hi everyone,

We're on a roll!! 

URIEL: Continuing along with the theme of quirks and fables of TR from the last blog post (if you haven't read the last blog you might want to), I've got a few more oddball stories that I think represents my experience of Quebec thus far.

The tree I get to admire on my way to work every day. What came first the tree or the fence? 

This blog post is dedicated to the sights and sounds on my way to and from work everyday. I'll have a whole separate blog for my "Day in the life of a language monitor".

If you zoom in you'll see my name's on the door. I've never had my own door tag before! Stay tuned for the next blog post.

My walk to work is all uphill, that's why the walk home is much preferred.

On my route to work, I get to see some beautiful yet odd things. A lot of preserved and repurposed buildings. In the fall, the bushy trees, the same ones that swallow fences, also litter the streets with a thick layer of leaves. Interwoven branches and electrical wiring dangling over the road, entangled like the Smith family in Will's new autobiography. 

This whole blog is just my fanciful recounting of TR, the city where powerlines, trees, and fences all get along. Where old and new blend together. Where street cats and creepy crawlies live harmoniously in all the nooks of your old home, and you can hear unfiltered laughter and church bells through the window.

I'm not a photographer, but I think I did a good job capturing the essence of the scences. Take a second, see if you can pick out the features in these scenes that I thought were picture-worthy.

WARNING! Explicit imagery including squirrel-smoosh ahead:

The squirrels in some neighbourhoods outnumber its residents. I think there are probably an equal amount of squirrels in TR as deer and goffers in Lethbridge. It's gotten to the point where people are either purposefully or accidentally flattening squirrels on the road. At peak roadkill season there's a new daily tapestry of 2-D creatures, in a different orientation everyday. The pacifist in me could do without the morbid scene of resting squirrels on my way to work, so I've decided instead as a coping mechanism to identify and name the ones that I think haven't met their fate yet. I've befriended a small number of them so my eyes keep looking for the live ones instead of ya know...Focus on the deceased

A squirrels home? or is it an Apartment complex? I was brave enough to poke my hand in there but no one was home to greet me.

I only had the heart to name three. There was a light brown squirrel with a grey-streak I saw skillfully scaling the brick wall, from my "office" window. Like an Idris Elba in the next James Bond Movie, and that's exactly what I named him (or her), it took its sweet time descending 2 stories of vertical brick. Thanks for the show Daniel Craig but it's time to make room for Idris Elba as the next James Bond.

Idris Elba after scaling a building, taking a break before embarking on his next mission.

There's a larger-than-life squirrel, bigger then any I've ever seen but she's no different than the other gentle critters. Without making any noise, she elegantly prances on what seams like 2 feet. She saunters from hind legs to front legs over invisible mini hurdles 2 legs at a time. I named her Black swan. Lastly, there's a brown-grey furry friend that tries his luck with larger cats. I once saw this one I named Spots attempt to befriend a cat. Spots is really good at playing tag.

At this point, I don't know if it's ever the same one's I see on my way to work, surely not, but I'd like to believe the ones I named aren't scrapped off the road, but there still playing their game of tag, and never letting there situation get the best of them.

I realized while driving to work a few times, how easy it is to hit a squirrel, it's as if they don't know that the car is not there friend. It's as if they're too friendly and haven't quite figured out their timing. I swirved a few times to avoid them. It's a mystery how the squirrel population continues to thrive...

How did the french Squirrels cross the road? They don't! -A cringy joke by Uriel 

How not to cross a road in quebec... brought to you by non-Quebec residents... fun was had this evening.

Not only is it risky to cross the street as a pest, but pedestrians also have a hard time understanding the right-of-way rules here. The funny thing is that pedestrians might as well be pests. Turns out we don't have the right of way. It's the pedestrians job to make eye contact with the driver and ask for permission with the age-old head nod, or any non-verbal means. Unless you want to take the squirrel approach and launch yourself onto the street unapologetically. To the driver that's exactly what it looks like when pedestrians exert their given right at a crosswalk.

 It's not as simple as it is out west where the 2 legged human always has the right of way. There are times when you come to a 4 way stop and naturally proceed to cross and activate a cacophony of french mouthing and very enthusiastic hand movements. The rule here is that you've been demoted to the second most important road entity, behind cars yet just ahead of squirrels. You must first check with the driver, who must nod to show they approve, or else you'll have to answer to some angry Frenchmen. When they get mad, at least it's not your run-of-the-mill western road rage. it's more like a parental disapproval type of anger after you do something stupid or slightly askew and as a parent, you need to show your disapproval in hopes of steering your child in the right direction. Thanks to all the Quebec drivers who meant well as they hurl advice, very loudly out of their car window, because they care, I can now cross the street properly in Quebec.

"What happened when 3 french cats walked across a river covered in a thin sheet of ice? 
Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinque" 🤣

We live in an old house, occupying half of the top floor. It was built in the 1900s, and the school I work in was built in 1939, there's one thing that all buildings from this age/decade have in common: they're riddled with spiders. Small multilegged critters have better housing potential than millennials. Spiders  have it made, they've found a reliable multigenerational home in the empty unchecked dark spaces. Spiders love old houses more than millennials love coffee shops and avocados.

The spider that we saw everyday from sept to end of October. It's territory remained untouched for fear of retaliation.

Doesn't matter if you're outside walking in a forest or inside your own home, it's not uncommon that an eight-legged creature descends from above and tries to make a jungle gym out of you. I'm not talking about the cute little ones you can look in the eyes...I'm talking about the ones you had nightmares about when you were small (Back when everyone validated your fears instead of laugh at you). Before moving here I didn't think I was arachnophobic... I'm learning so much about myself! 

You know what they say, the best way to get over a fear is exposure. I would add that jump-scares are not conducive for fear extinguishing.  

What are people like in Quebec?

People are really nice here, unless your crossing a street or calling any customer service line or walking into a store with 20 minutes to close... Similar to most places I think, except Quebec has its own unique character born from its different history.

People's willingness to invite you in, try to speak in English and laugh with you are all great signs that they are Canadian. You can understand the culture that people are born out of if you look up "The quiet revolution". The incessant protests drove out the heavy and rigid influence of the orthodox church from Quebec politics and culture at large. 

Religious symbol across the street from the hospital.

As a result, the numerous, ancient and once wealthy churches are re-claimed as schools, hospitals or hotels, the french dialect here is lax and the radio announcers sound like they have a constant buzz going. I've never heard such happy radio announcers. Do we have the quiet revolution to thank? I can't speculate why these differences exist, but I think you can understand the character of the people by looking at the experiences through history that giveaway to the creation of collective culture. They spend more time laughing than talking on the talk radio show. There's always someone on the phone line that wants to talk, share a story or a laugh...how BEAUTIFUL!! I can get behind people that value laughter and time together. 

As I was saying, the only time people don't joke around is when you walk into a store with 20 minutes left until closing time. There is no good reason that anyone should walk into a store with 20 minutes left, says the working Quebecois. If the closing time is 9:00pm, they've closed the cash register by 8:30pm, the ice cream is put away by 8:45 and all that's left is an empty casket at the door for the poor fool to walk into and attend their own funeral. The unwritten closing-time etiquette kills me. In the province where people fought to reduce the church's influence, the greatest sin boils down to disrespecting the worker's right to close early.

The church 2 blocks away from our house. It's a small church in comparison to the larger one's down the road. The bells have a nice chime. They ring at noon and 6pm. 

So a drive home consists of dodging roadkill while listening to french laughter, passing old churches that are not in fact churches anymore, and never making it home in time to visit the thrift shop by our house that closes at 16:15.

Don't forget to look over your shoulder for spiders, and if you happen to get bit, all you can do is laugh, cause you ain't getting into see a doctor for a few weeks anyway... don't get me started about using the health care system as a non-resident.

Uriel K (with Mel's approval)