This is an ad for Spanish language courses at Montreal’s biggest English university, which says that learning Spanish might yield you 480 million new friends.
However, I don’t think they would dare to make a similar ad with “Make 1500 million friends by learning English”. That wouldn’t go over well.

Today was the day of the Citizenship test. I had myself reasonably well prepared but as I wrote before I’m not very good at studying dry facts. So I was a little bit nervous. The invitation mentioned I should take 3 hours for the test and you can ask a lot of questions in 3 hours.

First I had to wait in a waiting room with about 50 other people. Sitting there I noticed my nickname on the wall, right under the Coat of Arms of Canada. I had seen the Coat of Arms before, but had never read the Latin motto underneath it. It says “a mari usque ad mare”. It means “From sea to sea” and I interpreted it as a good sign.

We were then led into the test room, with rows of desks, all with a freshly sharpened pencil on top. One side for people that took the test in French and the other side for us English speakers. The test consisted of 20 questions of which I needed only 12 answer correctly. They were all really simple questions, and just reading the booklet would have been enough to answer them. One of them for example was: “What are the two official languages of Canada?”. On top of that they were multiple choice so I was finished in 5 minutes. For good times I went over all questions again but then I really had to hand in my answer paper. I would be surprised if I didn’t score 100%. I was the first to finish and then had to go to another room where after a short wait I was interviewed to see if my understanding of at least one of Canada’s official languages was sufficient. I started in Mandarin but then switched to Spanish.

The women checked if all the stamps in my passport matched the dates that I had indicated on my application form as dates I was outside Canada. They matched. Subsequently she asked some questions about my housing situation, sources of income, and if I had a partner and what his/her profession was. And then it was over and just 25 minutes after I had entered I was outside again, where it was still snowing.

In about 2 months I’ll have my swearing-in ceremony where I have to sing “O, Canada” and swear allegiance to the Queen. Better start practising:

Since a couple of months I’m regularly visiting a workshop in Improv Theatre.
Improv theatre is a form of improvised theatre were people go on stage without a script and react to each other and create spontaneous scenes.

The basic rules of improv are “Be positive” and “Don’t block other people’s ideas”. Both are things that I’m not very good at in real life. So it doesn’t come natural to me. But —maybe because of that—I like it a lot and I’m slowly improving. So maybe I’ll be performing on stage soon. I won’t tell you exactly when that will happen because it sure will make my stage fright even worse.

The workshop is held every Sunday afternoon and afterwards there is a show with around 12 performers, most of them participants of the workshop. The performers ‘compete’ —in a very gentle way— with each other by playing scenes together that are rated by the audience. One by one they are eliminated until there is only one left, who is then declared the winner.

So even though you won’t see me performing yet, I’ll invite you to join me as an spectator and enjoy the other performers, some of them are very good and outrageously funny. It is much more fun than hanging in front of your TV all night.

Sunday Night Improv
Théâtre Ste. Catherine
264, rue Ste. Catherine E. (between St. Laurent and St. Denis, Metro Berri-UQAM)
Every Sunday at 8 PM until 10-ish
Admission $5.

Hope to see you there soon! (All three of you.)

O, and here is an article from Montreal Magazine about the event.

Seeing a Dutch film in our neighbourhood cinema with French subtitles is a strange experience. Hearing people around you laugh about jokes that you thought were typical Dutch was even stranger.

The movie was “Garçon !” (“Ober”) written, directed and played by Alex van Warmerdam, a Dutch multi-talent (he also designed the poster and drew the storyboard) who’s work I really like. His humour is quite absurd and harsh, and for Canadian viewers sometimes even misogynist and racist. I myself? I laughed a lot.

I should be in the Netherlands today, but I’m not. I had a ticket for a flight to Europe last night, but I didn’t use it.

During the past 6 years, I always bought return tickets from the Netherlands to Montréal. In the beginning because I just went for several weeks to several months to visit Alison. And when I finally immigrated to Canada, 4 years ago exactly, I didn’t buy a single ticket. The reason is that a single ticket is actually more expensive than a return ticket. To give you an example, I can fly next week from Amsterdam to Montréal and back two weeks later for EUR 403. If I book a single ticket however, the cheapest flight will cost me EUR 1049. That’s more than twice the price for half of the product. Explain that to me. It’s like if you go to the grocery store and 1 loaf of bread is more expensive than two loaves of bread. It’s absurd and some economic watchdog should take measures to correct this, but that’s a whole different rant.

So I always, during the past years, bought return tickets. Usually with British Airways and those tickets were valid for a year and you had to pay a certain
fee (100 USD) if you wanted to change the return date. But, I discovered a loophole. Those tickets are valid for a year, but you can’t actually book your return a year ahead. The computer only “knows” about dates 10 months in the future. So I had my travel agent call BA and ask if I could change my return date for free because I couldn’t book it yet. That was very convenient, an open ticket for a low price. Later they closed that loophole and I could only change the date to a date after those initial 10 months but then I just paid the fee. Which I did a couple of times, when my mother was severely ill and I decided on short notice to visit her.

Last December, after such a surprise visit, all flights back to Montréal were fully booked and the remaining seats very expensive. So, suggested by my sister, I booked my flight from a city in Germany that is actually closer to my mother’s home that the airport of Amsterdam. There was room on that plane, I could just be on time here for Christmas evening and the price, although high was not unreasonable. As a return date I put 11 September 2007, because that was the last date the computer would let me, and easy to remember. I actually feared I would have to go back much earlier, because my mother’s health situation at the time was very precarious. (She seems to be doing much better now, thanks for asking.)

So a couple of weeks ago I foresaw that I couldn’t make it on 11 September because I was just too busy with all those projects here, that needed to be finished. So I called Air France to change the return date on my ticket and fell from one surprise into another. The first person told me I couldn’t change my ticket at all. I looked at the ticket and there it was clearly marked that I could change the date for a fee of EUR 150 (yes, those penalties did increase over the past years). Yes sir, but I see here that your ticket is only valid for 9 months. What? They now sell tickets for 9 months. And they don’t advertise that in any way when you book it. She then transferred me to another person who said that OK, even though I couldn’t officially change my ticket they would make an exception. My heart rated lowered instantly. Because the new ticket was more expensive I only had to pay a surcharge. A surcharge of 3400 EUR. Yes, you read that correctly, thirty! four! hundred! fucking Euros. That’s almost 5000 Canadian (or American) dollars. My hearth rate went up a couple of notches and I started laughing uncontrollably. “Vous faites un blague madame, n’est pas?”, but no, she wasn’t the type of person that made jokes, probably never had. The only thing I could do was hang up and stare at my computer screen in disbelief.

Just to put the absurdity of that amount in perspective: A return ticket Montréal-Dusseldorf with Air France on December 4th to December 24th would cost me EUR 3,245.64. Of course that would be a Business class ticket, since a normal economy ticket would only cost EUR 717. That is with Air France, I could have a direct flight with KLM to Amsterdam on the same dates for only EUR 578…

And these prices are for flights from Canada to Europe and those flights are always more expensive than if you fly from Europe to Canada. Don’t ask me why, I have no idea.

So now you know why there was an empty seat on flight AF 347 last night.

I had to restrain myself from going to the the airport yesterday, checking in an old suitcase, and then just leave the airport and let them have to remove the suitcase from the cargo bay after they found out I wasn’t showing up. That would have caused a nice delay. But with all the no-fly lists these days I figured out that was probably not a smart thing to do. Even though I actually was in the neighbourhood of the airport at the time.

Just hearing my name (that nobody can pronounce here, neither English nor French speakers) over the intercom would have been worth it.

“Last call for Mr. …. Rash-n-ders on flight Air France 347.
Mr. Rash-n-ders, please head to gate B34 immediately or your luggage will be offloaded.”

[I’m too lazy to translate this. Try

for a computer translation.]

Dit gebouw bevind zich op een legerbasis aan de oostkant van Montréal. Nee, ik was daar niet om een aanslag te plegen, maar voor een bijeenkomst van Habitat pour l’Humanité, een internationale organisatie die huizen bouwt voor mensen en deze vervolgens aan hen verkoopt voor een laag bedrag en met een 0% rentedragende hypotheek. Zodat mensen uit de spiraal van armoe gehaald worden. Dat huizen bouwen doen ze over de hele wereld (er is ook een Nederlandse afdeling) en het is een tamelijk goed doel vind ik.
Ik heb natuurlijk meerdere redenen om dit te doen, ik wil tevens mensen leren kennen en leren hoe men hier huizen bouwt, want dat is heel anders dan in Nederland.

Helaas ligt de Montréalse afdeling een beetje op z’n gat en wordt er momenteel niks gebouwd. Dus heeft men mij de taak ‘gegeven’ om diverse gemeenten te gaan bellen met een hele waslijst aan vragen over leegstaande bouwterreinen en huizen en gebouwen die leegstaan en die eventueel gerenoveerd kunnen worden door Habitat pour l’Humanité.
Ik ben niet zo’n ster in het bellen van vreemden (geen idee waarom) dus dat is een hele opgave. Vooral als het in het Frans moet. Want ondanks die cursus, Frans over de telefoon vind ik nog steeds erg lastig. Men verstaat mij niet goed, ik versta hen niet goed en dan slaat de paniek toe. En geen lichaamstaal die mij kan redden. Nu ja, ik ga het samen met iemand anders doen, en die spreekt vloeiend Frans, Engels en Italiaans dus samen lukt het ons vast. Hoop ik.

[I’m too lazy to translate this. Try

for a computer translation.]

Ja, zo noemen ze in Québec een lunch. En het avondeten heet een souper.

Vandaag hadden we een diner met een aantal van de cursisten van de cursus Frans ter viering van de laatste les. Het was een korte cursus, te kort, maar desondanks heb ik een hoop geleerd. Ik denk soms zelfs in het Frans momenteel.

Met een aantal van de cursisten klikte het ook, en ik wil ze graag nog eens ontmoeten. Ik heb hun emailadressen, en hoef alleen even de eerste stap te nemen. Ik denk dat ik ze maar ga uitnodigen om gezamelijk naar een Franse film te gaan.

[I’m too lazy to translate this. Try

for a computer translation.]

Voor het eerst in bijna 20 jaar zit ik weer in de schoolbanken. Ik volg (sinds maandag) een twee weken durende cursus Franse spreekvaardigheid. Eerst een dag op nivo 4, maar nu doe ik al twee dagen nivo 5. Het is erg gezellig en behalve Frans steek ik er nog een heleboel andere dingen op. Er zitten namelijk een heleboel erg verschillende mensen in mijn klas en de meeste zijn nog boeiend ook. En ik vind discussieren erg leuk, zelfs in het Frans.

Vroeger op de middelbare school haatte ik de talen. Ik heb ze dan ook zo snel mogelijk laten vallen. Saaie grammatica en woordjes leren; ik vond er niks aan en bakte er nog minder van (dat had een oorzakelijk verband). Maar nu ik talen gebruik om te communiceren (iets wat ik toen nauwelijks deed; ook niet in het nederlands trouwens) is dat heel anders. Ik zat vanmorgen echt te genieten, met een grote grijns op m’n gezicht.

[I’m too lazy to translate this. Try

for a computer translation.]

Eindelijk eens een keer naar een film in onze buurtbioscoop, het onlangs opgeknapte theater ‘Cinema Beaubien’. 10 minuten lopen, maar op de een of andere manier was het er nog niet van gekomen om er een film te gaan bekijken.

Maar als Nederlander naar een Duitse praatfilm (“Nackt”) kijken met Franse ondertiteling samen met een Engelstalige vrouw is hard werken.

De taalverwerkende delen van mijn hersenen waren dan ook ernstig oververhit.

[I’m too lazy to translate this. Try

for a computer translation.]

St. Jean Baptiste is de Nationale feestdag van Québec. Want Québec wil graag een natie zijn en geen ordinaire provincie van Canada. Dus hebben we een eigen regering, een eigen hoofdstad (Québec) en betalen we twee keer belasting. En hebben we twee nationale feestdagen: een op 24 juni en een op 1 juli. En om de festiviteiten (die onder andere bestaan uit drinken, een parade en een popconcert) kracht bij te zetten rijden er vele auto’s toeterend door de straten met grote blauwwitte vlaggen.

Het toeval wil echter dat deze 24ste juni de Grieken een wedstrijd winnen tijdens de Europese voetbalkampioenschappen. En Montréal heeft een groot aantal Griekse immigranten. Dus rijden er vandaag nog meer gekken met toeterende auto’s en blauwwitte vlaggen door de stad dan gewoonlijk.