Among the lost Quebec traditions, that of the begging bench particularly appeals to me. I got one 25 years ago. At the entrance to our bungalow, it still serves as a drawer for old hats and as a support for behind when it comes time to put on our boots. Far from its traditional role, my bench is above all a painting of a page of history that has become mine.
In rural areas, the beggar’s bench was used to welcome beggars and other wanderers without ties who roamed the territory and invited themselves into houses that were willing to show them a certain Christian charity. In exchange for food and lodging, these travelers shared tales, anecdotes and news from the region they had traveled.
It is said that some were also manual workers able to help repair things around the house in exchange for the services received. But, like all gypsies, the beggar ended up taking back his pilgrim’s staff, sometimes leaving his benefactors with lice as a souvenir of his passage.
It was to avoid this risk of parasitic contamination that they were installed on this bench at the entrance to the house. Storytellers today say that some kind souls drew a line with molasses between the guest and the rest of the house. This sticky border served to trap and stick the lice that sought to leave its body to conquer a new territory. After the beggar left, the molasses were removed and the portico where he had spent the night was meticulously cleaned.
Obviously, the line between tale and lie being very thin, it would seem that these molasses stories are as legendary as those told by the beggars to impress their hosts.
As in Darwin’s natural selection, the beggars have disappeared to make way for the homeless and itinerant. These victims of the system have become signs of major societal problems. According to figures reported by the Ministry of Health and Social Services, in Quebec, there are at least 10,000 homeless people, half of whom reside in Greater Montreal.
In other words, we are beginning the march towards the very unjust model of society found in the United States. In these southern neighbors, even if censuses are difficult to carry out, two researchers from Johns Hopkins University have estimated that there could be up to three million homeless people.
In other words, within one of the most prosperous global economies, there would be the equivalent of a small country of homeless people.
In New York alone, some estimates put the number at 75,000 people. A figure comparable to what prompted the City of Los Angeles to declare a state of emergency for what it considers to be a national and health tragedy with its share of addiction, violence and physical and mental health problems.
The nightmarish situation in which the United States finds itself would serve as a warning to us. Unfortunately, this regressive evolution of Quebec is already underway and will be very difficult to stem. However imperfect it may be, for several years the model of wealth sharing which made the charm and sweetness of life here is cracking on all sides and causing victims who find themselves in the streets.
When the quality of services is far from the share of the tax burden demanded of the taxpayer caught by the throat, the doctrine of “every man for himself”, precursor of this Americanization that we should all fear, is never far away.
Unfortunately, Quebec has reached this breaking point and it will be very difficult to reverse the trend. In health, education, services for the elderly, housing and many other sectors, the cracks are numerous and the inequalities, increasingly worrying, are giving rise to new and very great precariousness.
I’m starting to move away from the questing bench and have to return to it to finish a little more smoothly. Having become simple objects of curiosity that we buy in antique dealers and whose history is of particular interest to mediators of living heritage and my colleagues in the world of storytelling, the begging benches have been replaced by park benches or benches of snow, much less clement and without human warmth.
Also, the faces of the beggars who used them are no longer the same. They now include those of the many victims of the excesses of economic globalization and neoliberalism. Banished from society, these excluded people are now too numerous to ask, for the space of a night, to squat in houses. Today, it is food drives, shelters, soup kitchens and other solidarity organizations that reach out to these vulnerable people and welcome them.
The beggar is the one we meet, with a shifty gaze, sometimes offering him a coin, but rarely an ear, he is the victim of the housing crisis, he is the stranger who feels alone and forgotten in a land that was said to be welcoming, and many others. The beggar, deep down, is the one who reaches out to us to break his loneliness and to whom we should open our hearts to better discover the joys of solidarity pleasures.
Happy Holiday Season to you!