Song 3, The Tatler

Here's the second of those 2 songs. It's by Ry Cooder, who I heard playing it on some Saturday Night Live rerun from the 70's when he was the musical guest. I later heard Billy Bragg doing it too. Anyway, the take-home message is: you want a good relationship? Give it a little effort, dummy. That's Ry Cooder's message, I mean. I personally believe good relationships just happen by themselves. You know, luck, or something.

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Daniel Johnston

Tomorrow morning is the end of my first week of teaching at the National Assembly. I have a class of 4 people, a class of 3 and a class of 2. And the the first two days, only one person showed up to each one, making it a little more difficult to hold a conversation class. We got through it, though. I've started putting them through their paces and they'll all be using the past perfect with visiting dignitaries before you know it. Now if I can just get the Secretary General on Parliamentary Affairs to show up to class on time, we'll be all set. Yesterday I walked around town handing out c.v.s, trying to find a part-time job to supplement my teaching hours. I thought about applying at a store called Kama Sutra, but for obvious reasons, chickened out. I did, however, sneak into the Chateau Frontenac, which is a luxurious hotel, and just hang out in the luxurious lobby for a while (pictured here).
This week I'm grateful for:
Being employed
Buildings lit up at night
Talkative students
Having an apartment
The catholic Goodwill (Emmaüs) where I bought a phone, a radio, a bookcase, a book and a poster for 27$.

And to finish up, before I pack for a weekend visiting friends in Montreal, here's me singing a song by Daniel Johnston (thanks to PinksandRoses who showed me how to post it.)

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Love,
Matthew

Back in Québec. New job, new apartment, no food.

I arrived back in Québec after a month out of town that went like this:

Québec,
Boston, MA(2hrs),
Portland, ME(48hrs),
camp in Harrison, ME(2 weeks),
Ottawa(3 days),
New Haven, CT(5 days),
Montréal(24hrs),
back in Québec.

So I arrived Thursay afternoon, immediately started apartment-hunting, and 24 hours later, I'm sitting in my new bedroom in my new apartment on rue Saint-Olivier! Everything just came together. Pictured is the street where I live. Click on it, then on these: (a), (b). Life with my new roommate, Frédéric, should be interesting. He seems very different from me, in that meat-eating, hockey-loving, video-gaming, beer-drinking kind of way. I'm more the tofu-eating, figure-skating, guitar-playing, juice-drinking type. Fortunately, he's really nice, so I'm looking forward to the next months.

Interesting fact: after all that good food in New Haven with Laura and Indian food with Alexia in Montreal, today is my third day eating exclusively Ramen noodles (with the exception of a few stale biscuits). So I'm about to go to the market and get some food. Monday I give my first English class to the bureaucrats. I saw the class list and some of them are big shots, which is kind of funny. We'll see how it goes. I'm trying to decide how to go about testing high-powered civil servants on their verb tenses.

I Heart New Haven

My too-short visit to Laura in New Haven ends tomorrow. I visited the Destefano campaign office today and said hi to some people, specifically, Becky and Lauren (shout out). I love New Haven and I'm glad to visit it again. And by "New Haven", I don't mean "Yale". I mean Yale AND the fair and fascinating world that surrounds that bastion of Academe. And now, the restaurant roster. In the past four days, we've eaten:

-Japanese twice (Haya's on Trumbull)
-Ethiopian (Lalibela on Temple)
-Indian (Zaroka on York)
-Pizza (Pepe's on Wooster)
-Thai (Thai PanAsian on Chapel)
-and bubble tea from a new Vietnamese place.

Tomorrow morning I take a bus to Quebec city to start a new job: teaching English to bureaucrats at the National Assembly! For all the Americans who look at me quizzically and ask, "wait.. English?.. don't they speak English?" The answer is "no". Quebec is a francophone province and only 8.3 percent of its people are English mother-tongue, making me an (invisible) minority and explaining why our civil servants might need some English tutoring. Which works well for me. That's going to take me through October. After that I'm open to ideas or job offers, although I have a fancy that I'd like to go to China...

Ottawa

[Pictured: me in woods, friends Julie and Seth, my brother Benjamin.]
I left Family Camp Monday in the pouring rain, catching a ride up to Montreal with Emmanuelle, the only other Quebecker. From there I decided to take a bus to Ottawa, where my mother and 3 of my brothers now live. Seth Anderson from Nashville was supposed to drive me up after camp in his '89 Lincoln, but had to follow me up instead due to a breakdown. (He's looking to sell, btw...) I also saw Julie Snorek, another american camp friend, who was up here with her mother staying outside of Ottawa in a cabin in the woods that belongs to a church friend. My brother Benjamin and I spent a night there and took a hike in the woods which involved a whole lot of scratched legs and careful stepping. (See picture captions). The 4 of us also saw a light show projected onto the Parliament and listened to Daniel Johnston, who is a trip, I discovered. Today Seth and I take the Lincoln down to NYC. I'll be getting off in New Haven to see Laura (who was kissing a clam in the last post) before going back to Quebec to start a fall job. Quick New Haven story: I lived there with Laura last summer and one day, looking for a job, I went to a temp agency. I mistook the mezzanine for the second floor, though, and ended up walking right into Mayor John Destefano's campaign office (for CT governor). Anyway, we talked, and long story short, I ended up working there all summer. It was pretty cool, I staffed the mayor at some fundraisers and did lots of database stuff. The election still hasn't happened, so if you're in CT, vote Destefano. The End.

Family Camp

I'm in Maine. Which is why I haven't posted in a while. Two weeks ago, my (girl)friend Laura came to see me in Québec, I finished my contract at the Assembly and we spent a fun-filled week seeing the sights (see her blog for details 1, 2, 3). Then we flew to Boston, met friends, including her brother, and drove up to Portland, Maine. We spent a day in Portland with our friend Callie, and took the ferry out to the Casco Bay islands where we swam and played with a live clam.
Then we went to camp. Meaning camps Newfound and Owatonna, where we both not long ago worked as counselors. I didn't this summer, because obviously, I had other things going on, but we both came back to work at Family Camp, and that's where I am now. Family camp is 2 weeks at the end of the regular summer camp where families (usually former campers or staff) bring their children and treat the place more like a very rustic resort than a summer camp, meaning that between meals, they pretty much do whatever they want and the staff just facilitates, lifeguarding, driving ski boats, etc. My job is usually to have fun with the 6-10 year-old kids whose parents are off playing tennis or something. So we play games or go exploring or swim... it's very fun. Much more news from family camp, which ends in one week, but it'll have to wait because I have to get up early to help in the dining hall. I've peppered the post with pictures, hopefully you can figure out what's what. There's one of me and friends on the ferry (Laura in pink, Callie in grey) one of Laura and her brother Martin checking out a clam, one of me stuck in a toy car and one of the sunny and beautiful H-dock at camp.

Scaredy me and the wall

Yesterday was amazing! The old part of Québec is surrounded by a fortified wall, with turrets and cannons. It was built by the French, then conquered by the English, and now, tourists and locals walk along the ramparts and hang out up there. I live inside the old city and for a month now, I've been practicing climbing the wall. The catch? I'm scared of climbing. Tree climbing? Fun! Rock climbing? Pants-wettingly scary. But something about climbing alone seemed to take some pressure off (and something about having no rope makes falling not a great option.) Eventually I found three places I could climb consistently. I started climbing the wall to get home from work, and so if there were people up there they would see this guy in a shirt and tie poke his head up. I always got a kick out of that. Scuffed up my work shoes pretty badly though. Fortunately they cost 2$ at goodwill. Then one day I looked over and saw a taller section that looked doable.... maybe. I tried it, and didn't make it halfway. I tried it 4 more times on different days, and each time I fell. I would get up almost to the top, scared and exhausted, my arms would just start shaking and my feet would slip. I was at the point this week where I couldn't fall asleep because I'd be replaying those last seconds over and over in my mind, and I couldn't concentrate at work cause I knew that at 5 o'clock I'd have to try again. Honestly, my palms would be sweaty just thinking about it. But! Yesterday... I made it. It scared me out of my mind to climb those last few feet, but I finally, finally, finally made it. [Insert take-home message here]

The Bangles at 3:15

Unfortunately, it's actually 3:15 am right now. And I do work tomorrow morning. Stayed up late on the phone with my brother Benjamin (one of several). Mostly about Raffi and Robert Munsch as I recall. (No time to explain, Google can tell you who they are.)
Anyway, I wanted to write a post about how I went swimming tonight, like, swimming-laps swimming, even though that's not my style, even though I was a lifeguard for 6 years, at camp (see picture link to left) and at the Saint Lambert indoor pool. How on my way home I was recognized by a Vietnamese girl I kind of know who had a mouthful of pizza, heard some Irish fiddle, and how prior to all this I saw the sunset on the ramparts in the artillery park. (Not one person reading this knows where that is, don't feel left out.) It's beside my house. Overlooks the lower city. Twinkling lights, red sky, you get the picture. But the problem is just that: I don't have a single picture to show you all. I tried to draw a picture but gave up cause it was ugly. Then I saw the time and decided to just give you all a late-night recording of "Eternal Flame" and get the heck into my bed.
Click to hear. Goodnight.

This old guitar

I invented a strap for my guitar yesterday and so I'm showing it off. The guitar I'm playing nowadays is a classical, and has no knobs anywhere to attach a strap to. So while I can walk and play with it, it's difficult. And last night around 10pm I wanted to stroll and play without the difficulty. So I improvised this strap, using an office clip (courtesy of my job) some duct tape, and a telephone cord. And I walked and played around old Québec to my little heart's delight. During which time I saw three street shows: a comedian-magician, an escape artist, and two loudmouth kids on unicycles and trampolines with a flaming torch finale. I also met a girl in a hammock shop who I kind of know. I really enjoy being able to walk out my door at night and see street performers and crowds of people. I like crowds. Usually. And for when I don't, like this morning, there's a park to the left. I got up late and spent about an hour there today.
P.S.: For those who didn't catch the title, the references are John Denver and Bob Vila.