new-found respect

I had a realization this week that made me feel even better about where I currently live. I have made the mistake of thinking Quebec is its own country numerous times since coming here - asking Michele about the elections ("for President?"), asking about the national language, etc. After the fifth time she corrected me, the source of my confusion finally sunk in: Quebec may only be a province, but its independent attitude totally makes it a nation at heart. It was then that it hit me:

Quebec is the Texas of Canada.

To prove my point:

Exhibit A - Here in Quebec, a sign just outside of the capital city alerts drivers to the national capital. And in Texas, of course, we have the national beer*.

B - There is no doubt about Quebec pride. The fleur de lys is ubiquitous, the Quebec flag is seen everywhere, and I'm positive the reason behind all the white and blue xmas lights is unadulterated Quebecois patriotism. (See? There's no other word for this kind of pride than one meaning "love for one's country.") Nowhere in the states have I seen more pride than in TX. I know no fewer than four people - and possibly more, if I'd only seen more of my friends naked - with the state shape tattooed on their person. And everyone knows nothing says "I'm proud and I fucking love you" like permanent ink injected into your skin.

C - The language laws in Quebec are different than all other provinces. Okay, Texas may not have its own language, but the anti-litter slogan has to count for something. Don't Mess With Texas. It's a phrase so catchy and famous and awesome that it doesn't need its own language, it's original enough. It is tough, pure, and amazing. Just like the state.

D - You can say you're from Canada, and you may get an "eh??" to poke fun at you. But you say you're from Quebec, and you get a different reaction. People think, Sexy! Baguettes! Cheese! Berets! The language of love! All the things that make this nation - goddamnit! province - great. Similar to how "American" means one thing, but "Texan" is a whole other ballgame. Hospitality! Tex-Mex! Cowboy boots! Guns! And an air of proud coolness that makes other states wish they could have it so good.

Anyway, once I had the above realizations, I felt a little more at home here.



* Lone Star, it has been a long damn while, but I have not forgotten you. I think of you when beers from other lands touch my lips. However far away, I will always love you.