Part 5: Just For Laughs

Having had my first taste of French Canada it was time to dive in at the deep end of all things Quebecois.

Dear readers, ladies and gentlemen: This is the Montreal post. It has been long anticipated by those who I met in the the Francophone metropolis and I hope that after reading it that those of you back home will have a pretty good idea why I am enjoying my trip so much. I do not want to build this up too much but it should be stated at the outset that Montreal is, frankly, blooming amazing.

I arrived by bus on October 29th and was met an incredible feeling. If you have ever stepped off a long flight to a hot country and a powerful waft of scorching air floats over your unaccustomed body then you can compare that feeling to arriving in Montreal. Without exaggeration the second I stepped from the bus I was punched in the belly by a fist full of French. Many people are bilingual in Montreal (and Quebec as a whole) but the default setting is undoubtedly French. As for me, I had not spoken a word of French since I finished my finals in high school. Needless to say that while I enjoyed the music, cinema and food of the country the language was not my strongest attribute and my final grade (which I will not divulge) reflected this. Despite my utter ineptitude at the language I spent the next two weeks in Montreal trying like the dickens to engage in conversation en francais and I did have some luck. As it turns out my ability to converse in an almost entirely unknown language is augmented tenfold when I am under the influence of one or two (who's counting?!) beverages. I constantly told my high school teacher this, but she never believed me. Arriving in Montreal just before Halloween turned out to be a very wise move indeed. I was invited (thanks to Cassie F, to whom I owe several drinks) to a few parties to celebrate the most unholy of holidays and I am proud to say that my costumes did not disappoint. I dressed one nuit as a stereotypical Canadian and the other night as a "Doosh-Bag". Words alone genuinely cannot do justice to the amount of fun I had with Cassie and her amies but the pictures tell the whole story, including the 40 minutes we spent trapped in an elevator only to be rescued by the Montreal Fire Department. Add me on Facebook for all the photos. They are great and so was my first few days in Canada's second biggest city.

I had a couple of days to kill in Montreal before getting back on the Habitat wagon so I trekked up Mont Royal (thats where they got the name from, n'es pas?) to get a magnifique view of the city, followed by a stroll and bite to mange in Old Montreal, which looks like a petit French town plucked straight from the mere-land.

The time had come to go to travaille in the second province of my cross-country Habit-rek and it seems something had gotten lost in translation. I showed up for my first day at the Montreal Restore with the knowledge that I had some press to attend to during the day. However I did not know that Habitat Montreal had organised for me and another Habitat volunteer to speak to a television show for young adults about activism, Habitat and the work we do. And all of this in French! I struggled through with "Je m'appelle Jason" and thankfully the whole experience was not entirely cringe-worthy, although the show does not air until the Spring, by which time I will surely be creatively edited out. I had a great day at the new Restore and even tried my first poutine, which is a traditional quebecois dish of fries, gravy and cheese. Back home we call that 3am drunk food, but over here it is a delicacy. I would not have survived my time at the Restore without the help of Karin, Ron, Ian and all the team there - merci beaucoup mes amies.

Next on the agenda was a Habitat build just up the rue from the Restore. This was a build like no other. Situated on a compact, urban street and sandwiched between two other three story houses with very little access and hardly room for a Porta-loo was the guts of a wonderful home. I spent my time on the top floor and just like in Toronto I was again found wanting whilst roofing. I got the chance to put up numerous roof tresses, did a lot of lugging 2 by 4's, and overall had a great laugh with everyone on site. The fact that my French is fairly despicable did not seem to bother anyone and even though at times I felt like I was back at the Romania build where I didn't understand a thing there was always someone on hand to explain my mistakes to me in English. The curse word "tabernac" was barely even whispered in my direction, although on more than one occasion I had it coming.

Not willing to be outdone or out-partied by any other Habitat affiliate the team of staff and volunteers banded together to organise a fantastic night out in Montreal's Latin Quarter. We sang, danced and savoured some traditional liquids, all while I attempted to converse in broken French with all of my new found friends. I also got the chance to feel some real Canadian winter - the temperature hit about minus 15 Celsius that night, and I can honestly admit that it scared the life out of me, even with a rather sizable "beer-jacket" on.

I must thank Julia, Ernesto (aka Pepe aka Obama), Christine, Mark, Tracy, Steve, Gina Baun Metallic, Vanessa, Tassie, Catherine, Alex, Allan P, and Slick Rick for making Montreal so much fun for me. Extra special thanks to Julia just for being an amazing person with such a kind and giving heart and to Ernesto who despite not speaking a word of English is still a top contender to be best man at my wedding, if he has not been deported back to Cuba by then!

The blog is about to get colder yet even steamier as I tell the tales of my times in Winnipeg, Manitoba! Miss it. Miss out. Miss me? Add me on Facebook to enjoy more Jason than you can shake a stick at. Just mention Habitat for Humanity Canada and set aside a few hours to look through almost 1000 photos of my trip.