BONjer

BONjer!

These first few days in Montreal are reminiscent, in certain ways, of my first days at Yale. I remember trying to go out and see and audition for everything (as I hope to here), but as a Yale freshman it was in my little B22-suite pack; Sash, Liubin, and sometimes Allison and I went to a cappella shows, orientations, health and safety presentations, even some improv. The skit from one of those shows that especially reminded me of my current situation went something like this:

--Two guys sitting at a round table. Small paper table tent with red letters, "FRENCH LANGUAGE TABLE - BEGINNERS." Long awkward silence.--
One pipes up, "Hey! I mean...um."
Other: "Hey, BONjer." (note pronunciation)
First guy looking relieved: "BONjer!"
Second guy: (Silent.)
First guy gesturing to watch: "Uhmm, BONjer?"
Second guy: "Yeah, uh, BONjer." (Makes "so-so" gesture with hand)
First guy: (Silent.)
Second guy: "BONjer...ketchup?"
First guy: "BONjer!" *passes the ketchup*
Second guy: "BONjer."

...etc. Little did I know how accurately this skit would predict my current life...though I must admit, it's pretty fun to be always addressed in a foreign language (I'm getting pretty good and the shrugging "Oh sorry I dunno I'm really dumb and don't understand you!" face). At home in California it's always a small victory to be addressed in Spanish, since I'm so light-skinned, that being addressed here in not-English is a nice, assumed one-of-us gesture. Soon, French, soon we'll meet...

I'm sitting in the McGill library café, surrounded by Harvard crimson (what!?! Oh, McGill colors, right. Weird.), waiting for the student services, int'l student, and enrollment services offices to re-open post-lunch. This campus looks so incredibly different to me now from when I first visited for my Jan 31st audition; it's nearly unrecognizable without the vertical and horizontal miles of snow. I'm finally eating out after a few days of cooking at home (self-imposed zero-spending post-traumatic IKEA guilt) and am quite entertained by my Tropicana orange juice AVEC PULPE and Salade César au poulet, the latter of which even comes with a slice of lemon (fortuitous, as I like lemon on everything). The chicken in the "caesar" salad was definitely curry seasoned, and who adds lemon to a caesar salad?, but, I'm amused and rolling with the punches. Who says my U.S. definition of caesar is absolute?

Speaking of U.S. v. Canada, at least v. Montreal: now within McGill's gates I'm finally seeing some *not* teeny tiny skinny girls! Whew, was pretty freaked out there for a while. Of course all of them, anorexic-looking or no, are carrying Diet Coke with lime and are on their cell phones - some things know no borders, I remind myself - but at least they're not three-quarters naked and spandexed like most of the girls I've seen boodlin' around the internet café. I really love my area, don't get me wrong, and it is by far the most chic part of town I've explored; but seriously, put some clothes on.

Anyway, time-warp: I'm now finally back home, having spent the past 4.5 hours going to the first-year office, then career planning/work permit office, int'l office, enrollment office, music department, ID card center, attempting to go to the music grad student society building and grad student offices (under construction)...geez. But, here is where I thank my YBOP job and all people associated with the Yale mus department: not only did I grow to appreciate how much more informed Yale administrators are than McGill ones (no, Career Services, the Int'l office is on the 3rd floor, not the 4th as you insisted...UGH!), but through my YBOP productions job found that I myself was better at dealing with mean people, with overly-talkative not-actually-helpful people, etc. Take that as you will...

The campus, while seemingly spread out and still pretty confusing to me, manages to be very pretty within the very-city feel of Montreal downtown. I unfortunately chose a particularly hot day to walk around today, so I heard more than one family of tourists complaining, dragging their kids, etc; but I was especially happy to overhear, from behind me as I walked up a pretty steep hill with no shadecover:

Little boy: "Dad, what's the steepest street our car has ever gone up?"
Dad: "Well, that'd surely have to be one of those streets in San Francisco, last summer..."
(E, huffing and puffing: grin)

So, even despite having to sift through all the bureacracy, I was really relieved today at a bit more human contact - yesterday washing and sorting kitchen supplies, organizing sheet music, etc all day was pretty lonely. The woman at ID card services especially chatted me up, since she'd been a voice student and was happy to hear I'd be doing early music; lucky for me, between parts of conversation, that made for a very happy-looking ID picture. :) Though, I had already been laughing to myself quite a bit while waiting in line, since the girl in front of me was just so overdone too-hipster-to-function (the top-of-head birdnest hairdo and heavy eyeliner were just, over the top).

Anyway, after McGill escapades I was delighted to discover 1) cheap plastic pitchers to buy at the grocery store so I can make iced tea - it really is hot esp w/o A/C and that 2) Bank of America is partnered with Banque Scotia, so I may be getting an account sooner and more easily than anticipated! This would allow for ease of scholarship fund transfer, and really be a load off my mind. Not to mention, still working on the cell phone thing...but, one (or ten) thing(s) at a time. Regardless of whether I'll actually get an account with them, I stopped off at the Banque Scotia near my apt, made an appointment for Wednesday, and am glad of it. Didn't yet make it to the store to actually buy some necessary items (eggs and an orange for making orange popovers! mmm), since I was carrying so much paperwork, but there's time later (Mus Man reference: check).

Slowly but surely, I'm learning the way of some things around here. That wry humor, still present in some who helped me today at McGill (in some more or less mean forms) is catching me much less off-guard; I'm starting to understand that dropping the coins into the bottom of my purse after having made a purchase is *not* effective as some of those are actually *worth* something here; and I'm keeping all open ears for things to keep myself entertained even without many acquaintances here, like trying to understand bits of high-pitched valleygirl French or the slurred muttering French of a homeless guy with a sandwich outside the library. I'll admit French still has me a little on edge, but I'm really gaining appreciation for a truly bilingual city - an amazing concept turned reality, here.

Love to all!
E