July 11 - Quebec

I had been dreading entering Quebec because of the rep that the Francophones (French speakers) have for being assholes to outsiders. I also thought it would be good for me, because I was traveling through an area where I didn't know the language at all, unlike Mexico where I could probably get by. So it was the hard-edged training for getting through Latin America. I entered from New Brunswick. Immediately all of the signs changed from English and French to French only. So in about an hour, I had a few quick lessons in French, as I learned what sortie meant as well as the French for "Be prepared to stop." The drivers were faster and cut each other and me off.

I stopped for gas, and I tried to speak as little as possible, not knowing any French. The owner of the first place dropped my change on the ground, shouting "Shit!" in English. At another gas stop a guy zoomed in front of me to get to a gas pump, cutting me off as I was turning my bike around. Then there was the kid who was at a gas station 30 miles from Ottawa, which is in English speaking Ontario. I asked him if he spoke English. Not a word. He asked me if I spoke French... now I'd just asked him to speak English in French. I tried Spanish, because I figured if he wanted to make an effort he would understand some of it, and at least it showed that I wasn't monolingual. So finally, I made sign language. This is something that I got good at when I was towing cabs in New York City, and I never really had a problem with it, regardless of whether the other guy spoke Korean or Hindi, provided that the other person wanted to communicate. I motioned to the pump, to myself, and made a gas pumping motion - to show that I was going to pump the gas myself. "Parlez vous Francaise?" he asked again blankly. I took the nozzle from his hand, pumped the gas, and handed him my credit card. There were some other incidents like this. I have never, not in Panama, not in Brazil, or Thailand, had so much trouble buying gasoline from people and giving them my money. And I did my best to not have any other interactions with anyone unless someone spoke to me first. So I wasn't really in a good frame of mind when I got to Quebec City.

Quebec City is the capital of the separatist movement in Canada, the home of the Parte Quebecois, which has been leading the legal battle to make Quebec an independent country. I arrived and booked myself into a hostel, and then went on a walking tour of the city with a local Quebecois journalist. Jacques took us on a 3 or 4 hour tour of the entire old city, pointing out things like the first bank, the first jail, the first bakery, ad nauseum, to the point where it got beyond local history into local minutiae. Quebec City has the feeling of a museum reconstructed for the tourists that the Quebecois apparently despise, except when taking their money.

We walked at one point onto the walls of the old city of Quebec. I asked him about the relative importance of Louisbourg and Quebec in New France, and he said that the loss of Louisbourg was bad, but the loss of Quebec was the end. I got the sense from being in Louisbourg that at the time it had been more important - since it was guarding all access to the interior - but I wasn't about to contradict him.

The next day I went to the Plains of Abraham museum and interpretive center. This talked about the 2 main conflicts that happened at Quebec City - the English siege in 1759, which made the city part of the English colonies, and the unsuccessful attack by the American army during the revolution. One of the things that was missing in the Canadian interpretation was that the American colonists were trained in the war of 1759 - which we call the French and Indian War - to fight in 1776. George Washington served in the English army in the Ohio Valley. This happens elsewhere in Canadian history - for example, Yankee colonists first took over Louisbourg in the early 1700's, and it was then given back to the French. These Yankees (from Massachuesettes and Maine) stayed in the area of Halifax to form the core of the local English speaking population when the Acadians were deported.

So when the American Revolution happened, some historical accounts say that roughly a third of the people in the 13 colonies were for revolution, a third were loyal to the English crown, and a third were indifferent. Meanwhile, the historical exhibits at the Halifax fortress mention that if not for the fact that Halifax was the main garrison for British forces in North America at the time (since the British were subduing New France) Nova Scotia could have joined the US as the fourteenth colony. I'd wondered why the French in Canada had not rebelled at the same time as the US. It turns out they were not disposed to help either side, since the English were their oppressors, but the Yankee rebels were the same guys who had attacked Louisbourg on their own, and formed a large part of the army in the war of 1759.

After the revolution was over, the loyal third - hundreds of thousands of people - left the nascent United States and headed to Canada, forming a large part of the original English population. This group was the most conservative and politically connected of the American colonists, and thus very likely the most disposed to be anti-French, in the sense that they wanted to secure the English Crown's hold over the remaining colony. The English went to work trying to neutralize the power of the French speakers, with the help of the Catholic Church.

Jacques' interpretation of what happened after this was that the Francophones stayed because they had a deep connection with the city, whereas the Anglophones tended to leave because they had the entire west of Canada to emigrate to. There was also the "Revenge of the Cradle" - basically, much like the Catholics of northern Ireland and the Palestinians, the Quebecois outbred the English speakers. The Francophones were a lower class group even in Quebec and had very little economic power or political clout for most of their history coming up to the '60's. But eventually, the separatist movement of the 70's not to mention some acts of terrorism polarized the province, and English speakers started leaving in greater numbers. Quebec City is now 97% French speaking. In light of all of the history, it's easier to sympathize with the Quebecois.

On the other hand, I had a friend at my last job who was Bosnian who went to Quebec to renew his US visa, and while was there got shit for not speaking French... to which he said basically "I speak Bosnian/Serbo-croatian, German and English, what the hell do you want from me?" The last referendum in the mid 90's was 49.6% for, 50.4% against - prompting calls for another one, which made some pundits call it "the Neverendum". After that a lot of Anglophones hit the road for Toronto, so if there was another referendum it might well pass now, but the political will of the Parte Quebecois was largely spent after the last referendum, so for now the issue is in remission.

When the referendum was lost by the separatists the last time, I remember seeing articles in the NY Times saying that many Francophones blamed the loss on the immigrant communities - Greek, Chinese, Vietnamese and others - in Montreal, who wanted their children to speak English. The Quebecois also have a very rocky relationship with the native Canadians in the province. All in all, you feel for them a little, but they drive the sympathy out of you by being complete shits.

The one place this is not true is Montreal. Montreal had the grittiness of New York with the flair of Quebec City. Where in Quebec City the Old World style felt embalmed into the old city for the benefit of tourists, in Montreal it was a light flavoring that felt genuine. I showed up there to meet my girlfriend Cathy, who speaks good French from a year spent in France. She never got a chance to really speak it though, because if anyone heard us talking as we for example entered a restaurant, they would immediately switch to English. People in Montreal were friendly even when they spoke little English. It was hard to fathom why. Many of the people we dealt with were taking money from tourists all day, but not all of them. Possibly it was having more neighbors who weren't French speaking that helped, or the fact that Montreal is a very cosmopolitan city.

Cathy and I had a really great time in Montreal, which redeemed much of my feelings about the province. I still couldn't wait to leave. On my way out I moved to the border.

July 14 - Ottawa

Map of Ottawa

I entered Ontario through Ottawa, Canada's capital. The Quebec side of the Ottawa River is Hull, a hard line French speaking town, and the transition after crossing the bridge is immediate. If Quebec ever became independent, Parliament Hill in Ottawa would be on the cliffs visible on the Ontario side only half a mile away.

Parliament Hill is an interesting place for understanding the identity of Anglophone Canadians. First, the whole complex is not as imposing as many national capitals. This is not a Kremlin, or a Capitol Hill, or any kind of national palace. I expected it to borrow heavily from the Parliament in London. Instead, it really looks like it is borrowed from Oxford, or better yet a Public School in England, which makes a lot of sense given that until relatively recently this was an offshoot of the English ruling class. Until the early 50's there where no Canadian citizens - only "English Citizens living abroad". The Queen of England is still on the money, and Queen Victoria and Queen Elizabeth are two of the main statues on Parliament Hill (technically they are monarchs with multiple kingdoms... Queen Elizabeth moonlights as the Queen of Canada, presumably between shifts dedicating shopping malls to herself in England.)

So it's no great wonder that Canada is a little defensive about its national identity. Molson, the very Canadian brewery, had for the last few years exploited this with the "I AM" campaign. It basically boils down to statements like "I am a Canadian... I don't dress in plaid. I don't have a pet beaver. I don't live in an igloo." In other words combating the stereotypes of Canadians that Americans supposedly have. There's a spot on TV here that's really funny where a snide American asks about this Canadian's pet beaver, and the Canadian guy pulls out a beaver who savagely goes for the American guy's jugular.

The whole "I am" thing also goes on to talk about how Canadians support peacekeeping, not fighting wars, etc, etc. This is true - the Canadians volunteered a unit for the Gulf War but were unable to get it there and it was unready for combat. The English in Bosnia referred to the Canadian battalions as CantBats - referring to the fact that Canadian soldiers had problems getting permission to fire, and Canada was one of the leading voices for years preventing the bombing of Serb positions that ended the Bosnian War (this information I picked up at the Glenbow Museum in Calgary in its exhibit on arms, armor and warfare). So it's more like peace-observing-if-they've-already-decided-not-to-kill-each-other. In some circumstances, this is definitely better than the America cowboy mentality that our government - especially the current one - often has, but probably the best stance would be something in the middle.

Canadians in general on a personal level are really friendly, and in a community sense better citizens that Americans. Institutions in Canada generally tend to work because people believe they will, where in the US they don't because people think they won't. I generally get the sense that people are more trusting of authority, a little more passive than the United States, but more inclined to work together. This social cohesiveness is probably tied to the colonial origins of Canada, since Canada evolved away from being an English colony. The Canadian suffragettes fighting for women's rights immortalized on Parliament Hill sound a lot more patient and willing to wait for change than Susan B Anthony and her gang, talking about not being able to speed up evolution - nothing like American feminism.

The night that I was in Ottawa I went back to Parliament Hill where I watched the Sound and Light show projected on the Parliament Hill Center Block (I forget the French name of the show) which was on the Winds of Canada - where Canadians played the "voices of the winds of Canada" and at the end, citizens of Canada talked about their feelings about the wind. This was fucking hilarious (about on par with the patriotic American laser light show at the Grand Coulee Dam). Another element that this show emphasized was the diversity of Canada, which so far in this trip is nowhere in evidence. Granted, I come from New York City, and my viewpoint on this is skewed, but the blacks and latinos of Canada are very few and far between, more visible in government ads than in reality. The diversity that most Canadians talk about is Quebec and tiny numbers of native Canadians who live far away from them, and huge numbers of immigrants that are concentrated in Vancouver and Toronto. Compared to the US, most of Canada is an incredibly white place - contrast Ottawa with say, Washington, D.C... I couldn't tell if they were talking about this as one of the elements that distinguishes Canada from the US or as part of a way of forging an identity that can embrace Quebec. That's probably what the government is aiming for, but the I AM Canadian folks seem to think that this is different from America - i.e., Canada is more diverse, which is ridiculous. The government is strongly pushing immigration especially to places like Manitoba which are losing population, so there is a pretty good chance that Canada is going to end up being just as diverse as the US in the future.

The Canadian English speakers are true to form, very polite and kind. Barring minor lapses like Stand On Guard, the Canadians put up with a lot of arrogance from the US, as well as their own French speakers. As most Americans are completely unaware, the main Canadian casualties in Afghanistan were caused by a US pilot bombing Canadians soldiers who were doing a live fire exercise. Four Canadians were killed after a US pilot - nicknamed "Psycho" - bombed a position on his own, which if he had waited a minute, he would have gotten permission to bomb anyway. I happened to be in Canada as this was being investigated, but it never came up except as a tragedy if the news happened to be playing.

Overall, Canada's identity at least among English speakers seems to be getting stronger in many places (though there is grumbling in the West about also seceding if Quebec does.) Canada seems to be slightly more class-oriented - the blue collar motorcycle guys I met stopped talking about work as soon as I mentioned that I used to do computers, but it was a little different than if I talked to an American guy who was a construction worker. In the US, those guys would be showing you that they didn't feel any less than you because you worked in an office or made more money. I used to work construction and do mechanic work on cars and the guys I worked with weren't going to let themselves be looked at as inferior. Perhaps it was just my imagination or the people I talked to, but in Canada I got the idea that people had a sense of a persons "place in society" - and at least in Nova Scotia and the Maritime provinces there was a deference that I got when I talked to many people, that made me feel separated.

July 16 - Western Ontario

Heading west in Ontario, I ended up passing through North Bay. I decided to stop for dinner on a Sunday night because I had seen a sign advertising the local rib fest. Everywhere I looked on the shady side of Main Street, shad flies covered the buildings by the thousands. They looked a little bit like dragon flies, and a little bit like mosquitos, but they were harmless. I stopped at a gas station and fueled up, where I asked the woman behind the counter "Do you guys always schedule 'Rib Fest' to be in the middle of this infestation?"

She looked a little chagrined. "No, this year they came out right at the beginning of the Strawberry Festival, and they should be gone by this weekend. They only last two weeks... they're harmless. And they live only here and in one town in North Africa, which I guess makes them disgusting and special at the same time."

I camped the next night outside of a provincial park at a private campground where I continued my ongoing battle against the mosquitoes of Ontario. Ontario means land of waters. Mosquitoes love swampy areas. The result is your own personal swarm within minutes of stopping your vehicle. Mosquito coils have little effect, and 20% DEET repellant is like shouting "come'n'gettit!" so I ended up a couple of night setting up a tent wearing my helmet, gloves and rain gear, which worked fine until the mosquitoes figured out how to get into my helmet. Ontario also offered a wide variety of other bug life, and sometimes as I cruised along at 130 klicks an hour I'd try to identify the smears across the visor of my helmet from the inside.

The scenery in northern Ontario was spectacular among the Great Lakes, and worth all of the bugs. I thought the American geography of coastal plain in the east, Appalachian mountains, plains, desert and Rocky mountains would also hold in Canada, but it was actually very different. The Appalachians barely existed, but around the north end of Lake Superior there were mountains right on the lake.

The highway traveling through this area was the same as the Trans-Canada pretty much everywhere, which meant that it was 2 lanes, with an occasional passing lane, and a dashed yellow line in the middle for passing in some other places. This was used by trucks and everyone else, and the resulting average traffic speed could be really slow, especially climbing a mountain. Also, the road was not controlled access, which means that people could turn onto it from the side, and sometimes you would need to stop at an intersection. This made for some exciting riding, trying to pass a line of vehicles doing 100 km (60mph) on a curving mountain road with people who might be speeding on the oncoming side or your occasional local trying to dart to the other side. But once I was past Sault Saint Marie, the traffic died down and the Trans-Canadian became a really enjoyable way of getting across North America, because it ran through local towns, and the highway did not gut a huge dead zone through the center of the land. This made it more dangerous from the point of view of having moose or deer on the road, but you could at least see wildlife, which you probably wouldn't on an American interstate. The Canadians were also really good about moving over to the right to let you pass in the occasional passing zone, which is something you don't see in the US, and allows this system to work.

As it turns out, Chretien, the current Prime Minister of Canada, is thinking about widening the Trans-Canada to 4 lanes as his legacy to Canada. Probably a good idea in terms of reducing people killed in head on collisions, but it might also kill a lot of small towns and make for a less interesting drive. The US Route 90 runs near the border for a lot of its length anyway, so thanks to NAFTA truckers can always just use that if they want to make time, and I think a lot of them do. As I entered western Ontario, I expected things to flatten out, but the terrain stayed hilly right up to the border with Manitoba. This could be how they decided to mark the border. When I was in PEI, I met an old man and his wife who had driven to Alaska in their RV, and he insisted that it would take me 3 days to cross Ontario. I had crossed Montana in 1 day, and I thought he was wrong.

And he was. It took me 4 days. Looking at a national map can be a really bad way of getting the scale of things - but I really should have known better because I've bicycled from NYC to Seattle, and I made the same mistake before. Ontario basically runs to the north of the US border from Philadelphia to Fargo - basically half of the width of the United States if you take route 80. This is really big. Bigger than Texas. Almost as big as Quebec or Alaska. So it got a little depressing being in Ontario day after day, but then I was out and it seemed like I was in a new province every day.

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