Hi Bill's Bar ~
My orientation to Quebec City was a bit one-off. It was approximately 1985
and I absolutely, positively, fell in love with the city. However, I saw it through the eyes of a rose peddler [me
], running down narrow streets and up cracked steps, through narrow doors that opened into glorious spaces of restaurants... seemingly tucked everywhere in the nooks and crannies of the city, the entrances of which you would never dream would be a classy restaurant. I remember being continually astonished at what kinds of spaces those cracked steps and narrow doors would open up into... white tablecloths and candles and such, where you might have anticipated a tenement house. It seems the mode of eating there is French style, too... many luxurious and leisurely courses to a meal.
Really dreamy... like a romantic, French film. The women seemed all to be exquisitely beautiful... creamy clear skin [from lack of sun damage], fashionably thin, and dressed to the nines, which often appeared to be straight out of European fashion magazines. I was so taken by the visuals of the city and the sounds of Quebecois-French coming from everywhere
. There seems a cultural refinement in the people. Beautiful.
I memorized my French, rose-selling presentation phonetically; and then memorized the most typical responses in French to listen for; to which I had also memorized the corresponding phrases and sentences to complete the transaction. I got completely thrown off if someone came back with something not in my verbal arsenal... and that happened a couple times. [[
Edited to add that the most outstanding one for me was when a man, sitting at a bar where I approached to ask the sitting patrons, turned around to speak with me, and using some form of j'acheter ~ in it's future tense, I learned later ~ said something unanticipated and unintelligible when mentally put alongside my memorized lines. He repeated it to my confused, yet ever hopeful, face... and, finally, some man sitting near him recognized the problem and intervened. "What he's saying is that if you'll take the rose across the street and give it to the lady that [whatever the criteria was... don't recall], he'll buy one." "Oui! Oui! Yes, of course, I'll be happy to do that [I'd deliver those roses anywhere
!]" So, he relayed that in additional French, or perhaps the man actually understood me in English... not sure, looking back. It was the initial
lack of understanding that stuck with me
. He bought the rose and I ran across the street to deliver it, with my explanation as to who sent it to her. The woman was thrilled
!]]
I also encountered the proverbial 'Ugly American' as I cut through a park on a sidewalk, in the dark except for the lit pole lantern lights. I gave my little ditty, and he [yes, arrogantly] said, "If you want to talk to me, you're going to have to speak English!!" I won't share my train of thoughts; however, I pretended to not understand his English and chose, instead, to bypass the potential sale altogether. It was a
GRRRrrrr moment and very eye-opening as to how we are perceived by that attitude. I remember, too, something funny to me at the time. I did my ditty to an elegantly-dressed, middle-aged woman and she asked me where I was from. I told her I was from the United States. She matter-of-factly responded, "Not with
that accent you're not!" Okay
. Who am I to say
?
I found a room [my own] as a short-term housemate with two fellows [I had 4 cats with me, so this was not an easy assignment]. One spoke no English at all... and the other, only very little. It was a lovely time, nonetheless and a beautiful setting, as the house overlooked some undeveloped, valley-type land.
The sounds of Quebec were awesome... French music on the radio made me feel [again] like I was in one of those romantic French films. I recorded onto tape a number of songs off the radio. Almost every one was exquisite. I don't know if they still have the "billboard law," but at the time they were not allowed... so driving across that region of Canada, the landscape was uninterrupted by all the ugly advertising we've gotten so used to here... but OH so noticeable in its absence
.
I missed the Ice Festival, where huge ice sculptures are brought in... I want to say that its held, not necessarily in the warmest of weather, but not in the coldest either, as you might think. I'm not clear on that, though. Won't take much Googling to figure it out, though.
Quebec City is built atop a large hill/small mountain and it seems there's a castle involved somehow. Obviously, I'm doing all this off the top of my head. I would seriously suggest, Bill's Bar, that you Google Quebec City and make the best of your time there. I worked nearly every afternoon/evening, selling the roses for $1.00 apiece. Some proprietors didn't want you there, and others really didn't care. It was paramount that you dart in quickly and get back out [for the sake of selling as many as possible, as well as to avoid an owner unhappy with your presence] ~ many sales took place kneeling beside the customer at their table. Even THEN, that many years ago, I would make, on average, $65-$95 a night. Great money in those days and, in these economic times, not even so bad now... considering it was cash.
The Reward for my French-speaking co-workers, offered by the boss, was for his top-sellers to get an all-expenses-paid trip down to the Keys. A couple years later, a van-ful of them came to visit me there. I strongly recommend that you visit as many small, magical restaurants as possible... even for snacks, tea, or whatever. The window dressings are magnificent, too, if you like just walking and looking. That high-quality, olde-style way of doing things with windows. It SEEMS like there was a doll shop there, too... unless I'm confusing it with another old city.
You just can't help but fall in love with Quebec and Quebec City. A
wonderful place to visit
. I want very much to go back one day. I would love to see the inside of wherever Leonard will be performing.
~ Lizzy
"Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken."
~ Oscar Wilde
