I graduated with two law degrees from the University of Cote St. Luc Law School in Montreal. Despite the fact I spoke very good French having learnt this noble language at the King’s School for Young Men in Bombay my French was trés Parisien and nowhere near the joual of the Montreal working class. I was a “L’etranger” and a “Tete Carré” to the locals. Quebec at this time was going beyond its “Quiet Revolution” and trying to neuter the English or anyone not born in La Belle Province. The nationalistic Quebec Government’s Bill 101 criminalized all languages but French. In any Canadian city in you were free to advertise in your language of choice without any restrictions but oh no in Quebec you could only advertise in French with any other language secondarily measured in centimetres below the French text. This is how bureaucratic bean counters save a culture. Anyone perceived as English was penalized for the defeat of Quebec on the Plains of Abraham by the English in 1759. Oddly penalized for not completely wiping out the French population and giving them certain fundamental and cultural rights. No need to further discuss lest the FLQ terrorists who graduated into respectability with the Parti Quebecois firebomb a mailbox outside my home!
I headed down the 401 Highway with 425,000 Quebec “anglophones” to the safety of Toronto. What a horrific wasteland Toronto was! Everything closed on Sunday (churches excepted!) leaving only the smell of Yorkshire pudding and roast beef wafting in the air. Locals dressed in sweatpants and running shoes. Frightening but at least you could advertise in Punjabi without any restrictions. And the subway creaked and squealed like a pig in a slaughterhouse unlike the beautiful Montreal subway running on rubber tires! And bagels were Kaiser rolls. I recall heading out to a pizzeria after arriving in Toronto and asking for a mushroom pizza only if the mushrooms were fresh. After sitting down I heard the stoned out server ask his pizza maker to open a can of mushrooms to ensure they were fresh. Yes, high gastronomic culture in Toronto! Torontonians were well deserving of their nickname of Hogtowners due to their love of peameal bacon.
My publisher Wuhan Wet Market Publishing demanded I replace my view of the Quebec government’s attitude with a kinder word “nationalistic”. I had another word in mind. Unlike Rosa Parks I decided to disembark from the non inclusive Quebec political bus and flee.
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