I Love Montreal

Tara slept at my hotel last night, but was up early this morning with a list of things to do. She left unshowered and I took my time getting ready. I had not booked a room after two nights, thinking I would join Tara in her place. I felt disconnected from her and thought we would be closer if I stayed with her, knowing I could always find another place if necessary. I did not realize that I was being presumptuous or naive or incurably optimistic.

I packed my bags and checked out and chose to walk up the hill to her place. My bag has rollers and I had little in it, but the walk was long and arduous, perhaps because my feet were still tender and the sandals I opted to wear had a heel and were not a good choice. I walked almost all the way and then collapsed at a Starbucks near her place. She was agitated that I was taking so long and met me at the place. After dropping off the bag, we tried another coffee place near her apartment called 'Cafe Depot' where the cappuccino was absolutely undrinkable. There was a cellphone office nearby where she decided on a cellphone plan and purchased her cellphone, a great relief for her. One more check off her list.

We were late for her appointment at the Biology building to discuss her psychology minor. We could not find the building (I realized only too late where it was) and gave up. She was particularly irritable at that point, so I did my best to keep quiet and not complain about my miserable feet. She suggested we trade shoes and I took her flipflops and she looked very sophisticated in my sandals. We headed back to the passport office (kilometers away) and applied for her passport. I am impressed at how organized and efficient everything is here, so different from Ecuador and far better than any government office in the US too. I was relieved that Tara is taking care of these very basic things that seemed too much for her when I had talked to her over the phone. It seems that so much energy goes into the decisions about cellphones, getting a SIN and passport, choosing a bank (still to be done) etc. I guess my job here is to ensure that these tasks are taken care of.

We both had a yen for a burger and rushed to eat at O'burger on University, where we had seen a big crowd gather at noon on our way to the passport office. There were no queues when we arrived, and we both scarfed down our six ounce Angus beef burgers with gusto. It began to rain cats and dogs at the end of our meal, so we scurried inside to avoid the downpour. Tara had a meeting to discuss transfer credits at 2:00, so she left me, and after more wandering through the myriad of shops in every direction, I decided to visit the Museum of Fine Arts on Sherbrooke. It has grown since I lived here, and I remember being stuck at the north side last time with Maya, so I focussed on the more modern section on the other side of Sherbrooke this time, with a Napoleon wing and paintings from the Middle Ages to the 19th Century. There was a 'Miles Davis' exhibit too, which was $15 to enter, so I passed on it. Tara called to join me a few hours later and she ended up on the north side confused about where I was and how to get to the fourth floor which did not exist in the building she was in I finally had to leave the exhibit and exit the building to find her and drag her back to the section I was in. The museum closed at 5, but there was a 'frosh' event at 6, which I encouraged her to participate in. Somehow we missed the group of students, and Tara needed another coffee. We tried 'Nezpresso' , which is partly cafe and partly a store for 'nezpresso' machines, but the coffee did not pass the taste test. Tara wanted to pursue some 'retail therapy', so I tagged along behind her. We bought her first groceries at the Greek place near her apartment, and snacked on hummus and pita bread and nutella for dinner.

It may have been an error to stay with her. It was tight and Tara slept on a mattress on the floor. I was comfortable and slept well, but the room is meant for one, not two, and I had invaded her space.

August 25 Exploring Montreal

I was tired and spent after all the emotion of the day before and slept soundly until 8. Tara and I had agreed to meet at the front of the Arts building at 10. I arrived a little early and did not recognize her as she walked up the hill a few minutes late. She is bigger, taller, older, and her hair is dyed darker than the bleached blonde look of the past year, and she feels unfamiliar and not quite familiar. I had no agenda for the day, and planned to devote my time to her and her needs. She had a list of things to attend to. For one thing, making a decision about her apartment was crucial. She had chosen it sight unseen from Italy and had made all the arrangements from afar. It is more expensive than other options, but her father and I are not complaining about expenses, because the year will be so affordable anyway. The place is small but a convenient location near Concordia University and ten minutes from McGill. She changed immediately from the first place assigned to her, to a room a few doors down with more light. Bathrooms are shared and there is a large common room and kitchen where the 19 students from several different programs get together and commune. The attractive part is the expectation of social connections; Tara does not want to be isolated and alone.

We decided to look for good coffee near her place. After a year in Italy, that would prove to be a challenge. There are several coffee places nearby. I had already tried Starbucks in several locations, and the cappucino there is palatable but not Italian, so we had our breakfast at Cafe Myriad up the street and it was okay but not quite perfect. She liked her vegan muffin and my carrot muffin was yummy. Next on the agenda was a decision about a cellphone. There had been two booths on campus competing for her attention. She did not want to commit to a two or three year contract, so that limited her options. We spent a considerable amount of time visiting every cellphone kiosk around. There are malls on every street here, designed for the long cold winters when everyone stays underground, so shops and restaurants and food courts and cafes are plenty. I wandered after Tara and her list of wishes. Decisions, decisions.

I had developed horrendous blisters yesterday wearing new clogs that were not broken in (silly me). Tara convinced me to pop the blisters last night (disgusting with tweezers as my only tool), and I changed my shoes this morning, but walking was painful nevertheless. I noticed that I complained too much, and sounded like an old woman, which I suppose I am, (but I do not feel that way inside). I sounded so much like my mother. I walked long distances anyway, and that aggravated my agonized feet.

We had visited the tuition payment office yesterday, where we learned that Tara not only would be eligible for in-Canada tuition ( I brought her Canadian citizenship card), but moving to Quebec for her first Canadian residence may make her eligible for in-provingce tuition rates. Of course, Johns Hopkins will likely pay for her tuition anyway, so all of this was good news. We walked the miles down Rene Levesque Boulevard (new name for an old street, I cannot remember what it was called before) to the government office where she was able to apply for a social insurance number and get her application for a passport. The offices were cool and neat and organized and inviting, so astonishingly different from Ecuador or Italy or even the United States, which is far more chaotic than I imagined and gets more chaotic with time.

Our next destination was Little Italy, which we had failed to reach yesterday. We took the metro this time, which was easy and direct (but costly at $2.75 a trip), and arrived in a very small version of Italy which appeared to be a disappointment to Tara. The grocery store was amazing however, with every possible product from all over Italy. She bought a coffee maker and coffee and olive oil and balsamic vinegar and some cantuccini and a small panettone. We found a place to eat, where it was too cold to sit on the sidewalk, and shared a wonderful foccacia/pizza with fresh tomatoes, basil, and parmesan, so very delicious. Montreal is known for great food, and our gourmet experiences have attested to that. The coffee was not quite right. I could not resist a gelato of nocciola and pistaccio, and was surprised that Tara did not indulge too.

Our walk back down St Laurent was not as long as the walk up yesterday. We passed our Indian restaurant and then turned toward Mont Royal park, where bikers and strollers and ballplayers were out and about. Near the McGill stadium we saw dozens of frosh making noise and I urged Tara to join, but she demurred. The new students are all over town making noise and drinking and carousing, and Tara although a new student here is not a first year, so she is not participating.

Decisions about cellphones continued to be a theme. We stopped at the dollar store and Tara chose all sorts of items to decorate her apartment. Shopping is king here in downtown Montreal, and there are sales everywhere. Tara likes to shop ('retail therapy') and the possibilities are endless.