Fin de Détour
Fin de Détour
There is a colour in Montreal
that is synonymous with waiting. A shade
of orange so striking, it can be seen miles away contrasted against the grey
stone and roads that build up our island. Détour. Travoux. RUE BARRÉE.
Orange is the colour of
construction. More specifically, the diamond shaped, orange signs signify a
detour ahead. The road you were expecting to use is not going to work.
I was coming home from work last
night where I saw one of the aforementioned signs in front of our apartment.
“DÉTOUR FIN”
It dawned on me first that the
number 27 bus would no longer be as late on my morning commute. Though there
was a deeper symbol to be read.
It was November 3rd
last year, where I had no job, no prospects and couldn’t order a coffee without
an eye roll and a language swap. It was also the time that roadwork had begun
on Saint Joseph Boul. East of Papineau. A year later, and well over budget, the
roadwork is finished. It’s a fairly smooth sail eastbound until about
D’Iberville where the roads return to their crumbly origin. At the same time, I
stand at these literal crossroads; a year later, speaking French, and employed
full time in a beautiful restaurant. Also significantly over budget but that’s
for my credit card to worry about.
The sign struck me with a smile,
something construction signs rarely do. I was able to reflect on the rocky road
and harsh winter that had been the construction of Evan Français:
7 months of French class 8 hours
a day 5 days per week taught me that anything is possible if you’re motivated
and partially assisted by the government.
2 Not so fantastic jobs that
helped me to realize that I am able to get up for work at 4am and also able to
work until 4am. One also taught me to know what I’m worth and to not accept
anything less. The other supplied me with coffee for a year. Thanks green
Siren!
1 Brain willing to learn about
the history, the culture, and the ways of the people. I think that this part
was the most useful in the French-ening.
3 456 the number of people who
helped me to get here. My parents “la banque.” My friends back home who
listened to the weepy texts and calls. My friends here who helped keep this
little English heart from freezing. Max, for without whom all of this would not
be possible. Most importantly my shower, which has excellent water pressure and
continues to be a safe space to cry-scream into the void “WHY?!” over and over
without judgment!
I love this city with most of my
heart. I wouldn’t dare say it’s been welcoming or warm, but then again was
Toronto? Is any large city? You have to put in the work to carve your name into
the culture. Toronto happened to be more like melding gold and Montreal, more
like granite.
Thanks for sticking with me this
far. Hopefully we can continue to navigate the rocky waters of the Saint Lawrence
together. There’s one thing for sure about this life, you can’t go it alone.
Keep an eye out for those orange
signs.
Evan
Comments
Post a Comment