Chronically Awkward

Boys

Now for you to fully understand the 'sugar and spice and everything nice' process that goes into making young Quebecois boys into young Quebecois men, something needs to be clarified. For all you lot who keep asking me- 

So, who have you met in Canada?

or

So, what's Canada saying?

or

So, what's new in Canada?

You all are under the illusion that where I live, the male population walking around Quebec (all areas excluding Montreal, which is the New York of Canada #imo) look like this:

When really, the vast majority of Quebecois boys (that I've seen) grow up to look like this:

Sorry guys, the image you have in your head belongs on a runway, not reality. 

Anyway, I said all that to say that the whole 'look' can be boiled down to some basic elements. And the training to put this look together, and basically succeed at life and own adolescence, starts from around grade 5. No better place to see it get executed to perfection than at a school disco. So, let's have a look at what I learnt from les gars:-

Maple Syrup Trip

Right, so pre-Easter my most exciting escapade was going maple syrup collecting with some of the LBG. This basically consisted of me risking my very non-expendable only child life climbing all over snowy hillsides that may as well have been mountain sides (everybody knows we only children like to exaggerate and amp up our descriptions to highlight how special we are, so allow me).

It was actually really interesting though. I'm not gonna lie, I sincerely thought they would stick some kind of tap/funnel/tube thing into the tree and maple syrup sap would just sludge it's way out. For all those who were sadly misinformed like me, check ben ça: 

Special thanks to my lovely assistant, and 5 points to anyone who can spot the moment where he airs (ignores) my question lol. So yea, maple syrup starts off as maple water, then it has to be boiled down into the good stuff. 

That was probably one of my most enjoyed experiences de la vie québécoise. I would have taken more photos of the farm etc but I was too busy trying to hold onto the tractor/not fall into mud or snow.

The only downside in being Quebecois for the day was trying and failing to do things they could do easily, and failing miserably. Instead of going down the hill the long way on the tractor, we decided to scale the hillside like the other young people. Well, Joe went down pretty smoothly, while me, Aimee and Leanne's descent was basically like this:

Weather Changes

So, this past week or so it's been raining all over the place and I'm so happy about it I may as well be a 90's boy band about to do the wet shirt scene lol.

You see, as much as rain on-top of heavy snow leads to the black ice I always love to complain about, this time it's different. The rain has been employed as natures clean up crew to finally shift all of this bleak snow and slush out of the way so Spring can finally move in and the layers and boots can start coming off. Let me say it loud and clear people: 

Spring is finally IN!!!!

Hair #TheStruggle

So, anyone who sees me in person or on social media and cares knows I've been rocking braids since Cuba and actually loving it. But anyone who has braids/knows about black hair will know that they can only last so long and only have a few months life span. I've decided I'm at the end of mine. How did I come to this decision? I heard the one thing you never want to hear from a restaurant manager, ever: 

Excuse me sweetie, did you loose your braid? [said while she holds it horizontally between her fingertips and its blatantly yours]

When life reaches that stage, you know it's time to call it a day. So who can guess how this weekend is gonna be spent? For once I'm glad I have nothing else to do but take down my braids, sad I know. I can almost see the faces of all my students now when I walk into school back to original hair, which I'm guessing they've all rationalised no longer exists over the past month. Monday is gonna be fun.

Easter Escapades

Allow me to use N*SYNC to describe to you how my 5 day Easter break arc was looking about a week and a half ago:

Leanne and Dan are Chris in the blue PJs hanging out in the back waiting for their family to visit/ weekend engagements. 

Joe and Aimee are JC in the purple PJs already living it up gallivanting cross contry/countries to visit family members.

Meanwhile I'm regrettably bleach blond, curly fro Justin, crying left outside alone because I have nothing to do/nowhere to go. So I did something about it.

I decided to ignore my non-existent bank balance in favour of the ridiculous #YOLO mentality and book myself a Greyhound facilitated trek to good old NYC rather than stay in Buckingham doing nothing. In true Monique fashion I left it all to the last minute before I booked my ticket and asked my family in Jersey and my old friend Mike (who I met in Cuba - calling in the favours lol) to take me in over the weekend. Luckily for me everything panned out well and I managed to see quite a few off my relatives and have a day to myself to strut around Times Square like a celebrity. On the latter day two amazing things happened:

Even though getting there and back was absolute murder thanks to being stuck at border patrol and carrying the heaviest bag in the entire WORLD (with only myself and my lack of packing skills to blame) I don't regret it. I got to see even more parts of the city I'd never seen before. That being said I need to lock off all these trips to the US and stick to francophone destinations for the rest of my time here I think. Given the chance I would still go again though.

#SorryNotSorry

So, we're in a cabane a sucre (sugar shack) right - gotta love weekends in QC lol - all gathered round for story time....well Uni Freshers/Secondary School ladsladslads tales....and this particular tale was set on athletics day or something where the boys in question (sadly the LBG were the oldest young people there, everyone else was like 18-21...what is this life?) were doing high jumps or long jumps. 

If you haven't gathered by now, I was no where near invested in this conversation, the others can confirm lol I was being about as sociable as the chair I was sitting on, only that I had ears. Anywho, all I heard was:

*blah blah blah we had to go do long jumps*

*blah blah blah so the Blacks go first and do really well, then so an so*

* blah blah then it's WhatsHisFace's turn and he says it's not going down like that and he's about to dominate blah blah blah*

So I did what anyone would do. I thank Drake for helping me demonstrate the 2 steps in this process.

 Case #2 Mais, tu viens pas d'Angleterre toi?

• Minor but still stupid seeing as she directly challenged what I just told her and it was only me in the car.
• Resolved only by me repeating myself seeing as I didn't want to fight with a stranger (I'd met her at Zumba but never actually had a convo with her) who was giving me a ride home.

*blah blah blah talking about which schools we work at in the area and where we live*

*blah blah I'm helping out teaching English at my school I'm from England blah blah my flatmate does the same thing at your school*

*blah blah oh but wait, you're not from England though are you?*

After I JUST said so. Why would I lie? Why would you even frame the question in  that way, putting in the negative already like there is some discrepancy? 

I just repeated what I said and clarified yes, I'm from London, England. Hence I'm teaching English. Like I already said.

Case #1 Mais, ca match pas! a.k.a the one that started it all

• Major offence because it was just plain stupid and done in front of several witnesses.
• Unresolved because between being lost in translation and disbelief that she could be saying what I thought she was saying - and she was - I had her repeat the question and had no comeback for her answer tbh.

*Oh well, if you'd said Zimbabwe that would have made sense sure, but....*

Me trying to rationalise what my new staffroom friend had just said and all that it implied.

The other two teachers (including Friday English teacher) on the convo sidelines. Our survey says: Invisible/Imaginary Audience reaction:

my face for the rest of lunch

First. She, like case #2 assumes that, even though I already said so, I can't be from London.

I'm sorry do I need to carry a passport and birth certificate because you can't hear what I said?

Second. She offers the logical solution/suggestion that I must be from an African country....as a joke ofc.

Please feel free to have all the seats in the stadium.

In her slight defence maybe she has only come across African families that have migrated to Quebec. But still. I just told you I'm an assistant from England, from London. Why is it hard to accept that my mum was at some point 9 months pregnant in London, gave birth there, and raised me there? Not complicated at all. Also, let's skip the whole Caribbean and any other place there are black people shall we? Ok. Pick Zim at random? Sure. Exotic enough name, why not?

I don't turn to any Quebecois or Canadians and say, wait, you must be from Sweden though right? Just because they have blond hair and or blue eyes and they evidently aren't First Nations people - the ones that were there first FYI. So then why would you question and then offer to correct where I'm from as if my nationality is less plausible and yours is a given. Oh, no baby. No way.



Now, I've had my BigGirlBoots moment about this and it's not the first time I've talked about (casual) racism I've witnessed in Quebec but there are also two other points I think it's equally important to make:

The first is, as much as I love to get my imaginary Angela Bassett on it's not enough to say that all these strangers are just purposely and directly:


On interview day one of the coordinators asked me, as delicately as he could, if it would bother me being the only one "like me" in the area I get placed in. I responded that I was no stranger to being "like me" in another country - oh, hi Spain! - and knew people would treat me differently. I told him I knew it wasn't all a case of out and out racism (KKK on my doorstep, cross burning in the yard) but ignorance (never/barely seen any other races let alone know what to say or not say when given the chance) and that it was my job not just to learn about the Quebecois culture but to teach them about mine. No one forced me to come here or promised me it would be all gravy from start to finish. Anyone doing Residence Abroad rest assured:


But that is not an excuse not to go and do it. You might be the only ethnic person to roll through your placement and draw some lines in the "racist/not racist" sand or be the first of another race people meet. This is especially important, I think, if you're working in education, with kids in particular. There are a handful of black kids in my school, and a couple that are Asian too, there's a chance that you could be the only ELA they see that "looks like them" or is at least different in some way they can relate to, if you're placed in a school like mine, and I think that's important for those kids to experience.


As much as I'm a proud black woman, this isn't limited to black RA students. Anyone who ends up being a minority on their placement could find themselves in a situation like any of the ones I've talked about. And I think RA organisations should do more to prepare students for it, and their placements - in terms of what you can and can't say because boy, the stories I've heard since ELAing in Quebec alone...ugh.

Whats more, I didn't say anything. In these cases, when you're trying to make friends and be sociable in a foreign country or culture, how do you combat these foolish comments people make with no awareness of how offensive they're being and how awkward that comment made things for you? I'm honestly interested like, in the comments box, pick one case, or all 3 and tell me what you would have done in my shoes?

I know to some they might seem like minor issues but if someone said "oh and then the blacks went and did this", in the middle of a big old group convo how do you even side rail the whole thing and what do you say? Other than clarify they just said "blacks" and it sounds wack to you, sounds fine to them and you're still the only black person in the room, now with an added awkward spotlight....?

For those of you that have reached the end of this post and are still thinking:


Asking why I'm bothering about such small issues and making such a big deal out of this. I have no time for this opinion as this is a genuine concern that functioning adults, not kids this time, can say these things to people they barely know, with no common sense reflex of oh better not say that, sounds rude. Maybe you don't get it because this has never happened to you #reverseracism #blindedbythelights who knows?