[Chronique] Open your door and your life abroad

It’s all thanks to Mafalda. When I zoomed in on Maria’s avatar, I noticed she was sitting next to a cardboard Mafalda that read, ” hay mas gente interesada que gente interesante (there are more interested people than interesting people). I liked her straight away. Here is a girl who has understood the essentials.

The previous week, in mid-August, I had read an article that related the glaring housing problems for foreign students. They landed in Montreal for the start of the school year, in the midst of a housing crisis, in search of a roof already furnished, decorated, inhabited and the instructions that come with the left half of the fridge.

I decided to put an ad in order to help a student to integrate (sorry for the gender, I know, it’s bad, I’m an incorrigible her, she/her) and I wanted to give a new vocation to the room of my B flew away earlier in the year. “Are you sure, eh, that you won’t come back?” ! I semi-warned him.

Empty nest syndrome makes us do funny things. I’ve never had a roommate in my life, I’m rather orderly, solitary but sociable, AND I cherish silence. I write, criss!

Maria was the first to visit my apartment and I gave her the key after ten minutes. So. It was settled, we were going to live together. Crazy as well. I told her that I was there to help her with everything and in French—a little lesson on the French peril in America here—even though she speaks English and Spanish very well. A doctoral student at UQAM — my alma mater — she is from Rrrrrrralapa (Xalapa), the capital of the state of Veracruz in Mexico: “You know? Like the rrrrrralapenos ! »

Weather Integration 101

My apartment has become a spicy refuge for a young 31-year-old historian whose dream bears a sharp title: “State, culture and censorship, Mexico and Peru, 1933-1940”. You have to live with that and the resulting discussions: “You see, it’s the comparative analysis between two authoritarian systems to create a hegemonic culture. ” Either. I have nothing to add. On the other hand, when we talk about Mexican vanilla or feminicides (eight a day in his country), there, I get chatty.

Maria dreaded her first winter el norte ; his anguish increased as the mercury fell. She survived, impressed by our national sport: the weather. “Here, we talk about the weather like drug traffickers at home, you see? This is serious. It is our guerrilla. Some don’t come out alive. A generous Lavalloise offered her a Kanuk coat that she had advertised on Marketplace. When she found out that Maria was a student, she gave it to her. There are still good people. Let me see one speak ill of Laval.

Maria’s thesis director was surprised that her protege moved to the suburbs. ” Oh ! It’s because of the person,” Maria replied simply. I must be more interesting than interested. Entécas, the director was delighted when she found out it was me: “You’ll fit in well in Quebec, that’s for sure! »

A good is only pleasant if we share it

The first box of maple syrup — arrival gift, I hesitated with an orange cone — the first pancakes with blueberries from Lac-Saint-Jean, the night tour of Montreal towards the Oratory buying hot bagels and cream cheese and passing by the illuminated bridges, the first snowstorm in the countryside, the angel in the snow, how to shovel, the Christmas choir outside with the hot chocolate, prepare for breakdowns, attack the cold to -35°C on the 35, I was there to make him live and witness his astonishment.

Take him to the urban spa in the winter water vapors in February, give him a taste of local cuisine at the SAT and dream under the dome of the Satosphere, share a ginto during the Nuit Blanche or his quesadillas with spicy sauce (his grilled cheese seasoned), cook Swedish cakes in the winter and leave the knife in the mould, make homemade chaï and talk about feminism, her career, Roxham Road and politics, invite her to see The Vigil of Two Days Beforethe square sets and the baquaise on December 30, then to eat mussels and fries in my family the next day, it’s all part of the lease.

“You can tell your mom to stop worrying, I’m your mom from Quebec, okay?” His mother is reassured. No, there are no drug traffickers in Saint-Lambert, but stolen vehicles are concealed in front of my building. Seven police cars last week, the guns worse all. It’s not flat. Let me see one speak ill of Saint-Lambert.

Stay at the same address

I am finishing the fascinating essay by journalist Gabrielle Anctil Stay at the same address, on intentional communities and cohousing: “Combining our forces in the face of the housing crisis, isolation and poverty. There is no doubt that the future is not what it used to be and that we will have to rethink our homes in the face of a climate, energy, economic and social crisis. Not to mention the aging boomers, a problem for the state.

But the result is always the same: when I move away from the collective, I’m less well.

Gabrielle Anctil has been practicing extreme flatsharing since 2008 in HoMa, an intentional community she founded with two friends, which has become an urban hamlet of 5 apartments and 9 people.

They question the nuclear family as a supporting model and divide responsibilities by sharing resources in the friendly clan, including two meals a week prepared for the group, except in the summer. The formula where everyone contributes according to their income can make you dream. But Gabrielle Anctil also mentions the conflict resolution and non-violent communication portion in her book. It offers concrete leads. I’m going to pass it on to two friends tempted by the model.

There is no doubt for me that maintaining privacy while sharing common spaces is a desirable model for the future. Just as the transgenerational and the transcultural are a mutual enrichment. My little “community of intention” requires me to get out of my comfort zone, but going towards the other has allowed me to re-enchant my gaze and add spicy : mi casa are you casa.

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