As of this writing, they may still be fighting over Maka boxes. We will come back to it. But they got married for the better and for the 95% of tiles that you can’t imagine falling on us. This is also the commitment. In politics as in love, Caroline St-Hilaire and Maka Kotto, the two former Bloc politicians, appreciate challenges and games. And yet, an excavator in the house shakes up the foundations of any union, even after 17 years. They overcame the ordeal of the site for 20 months, taxed by the incompetence of an entrepreneur against the backdrop of a global pandemic and confinement which took on the appearance of camping: air mattress in the basement and dishes outside.
It is an understatement to say that at a time when millions of people are being forced to flee their homes, their countries, we find more and more refuge in cocooning. The pandemic will also have boosted the renovation sector.
Makaroline, their affectionate nickname, have just published a tasty story filled with self-mockery, which could well be a buoy (or a warning) for lovers determined to undertake renovations. Renovate your house without destroying your relationship recounts the adventures of a duo who has seen others. Caroline likes to mention the full moon evenings at the Longueuil City Council among her sources of insomnia. But she had never had a panic attack before momentarily losing her bearings in 2020.
Three years ago, in Gaspésie, I met the St-Hilaire-Kotto couple and fell in love. It’s the first time I’ve set foot in their chalet in the Eastern Townships, a “strainer” that they have renovated from top to bottom to make it a warm home that they now occupy full time. This chalet brought together their six children from previous unions since 2005, and they organized races there to collect rainwater… inside!
Maka and her “daughters”
Their alliance is fascinating, because beyond appearances — she, white terra-cotta (Sico, 6070-21), he, brown centenarian (6083-83), she, Quebecer, he, Cameroonian — Caroline and Maka are intrinsically different on all the plans. Maka explains the fate of humanity by evoking the Age of Aquarius, metaphysics, and favors the holistic approach while blessing the ancestors with sage. He says he integrated his mortality at the age of seven. Caroline, pragmatic, thinks of making provisions for a world war. “We have nothing in common, nothing, nothing, nothing. But we are complementary”, launches the dynamo of the couple.
Everything is against them, but two hens unite them as the last of their six chicks left the nest last year.
The two life partners may prepare very runny omelettes when the time comes to debate, their pusherstheir “daughters”, are called Juliette, the black one, and Germaine, the redhead.
Anyway, the idea for the chicken coop was Caroline’s, and Maka, using her recent manual skills, built them a small condo adjacent to the house. Luxury chickens. Since then, they’ve been trying behavioral communication, and it wouldn’t occur to Maka to eat them even if Juliette climbs on her head like a weather vane looking for the north.
In their house, the post-renovation mantra stopped at “Life is beautiful”, a slogan declined on the coffee cups, the box of tissues, a wooden panel above the door, a cushion, everywhere. “It’s easy to take things for granted,” says Caroline. “Humans are not perfect, but the ‘source’ is…”, Maka philosophizes in his beautiful deep voice. “We must remember this, because 95% of the universe is beyond our knowledge. With the remaining 5%, we create artifices to give meaning to our existence. Matter is tangible, and the intangible is scary. Maka quotes the Socratic phrase (or Gabin’s song): “I know that I know nothing.”
Certainly, “life is good” in front of this beetroot and feta tart that Caroline transplanted from Ricardo, then with the vegetable couscous inspired by Ottolenghi. Hospitality is also an art. Maka adds a little El Yukateco pepper to it. A bland life, not for him. That’s why he chose Caroline, whom he compares to a snowdrop.
Seriously, do you know how many white people there are?
Cameroon in the garage
Maka came to live in Quebec at the invitation of Dany Laferrière, who made him his Bouba in the film How to make love with a nigger without getting tired, in 1988. Moreover, Maka does not speak of a “mixed” couple with his partner: “We are a couple, period! So much for wokism.
In a corner of the living room, their two parliamentary seats, bought as souvenirs, recall their meeting. A colonial hat sits on top of Maka’s. The staging speaks. A library stocked with nationalist works keeps watch. It was filmmaker Pierre Falardeau who converted Maka to the fleur-de-lis flag.
Despite everything, he refuses political partisanship. “When you’re a partisan, you don’t give all the info. You are in clientelism. You are in intellectual corruption. »
The former mayor of Longueuil fulminates. The atmosphere warms up. But less than when it comes to the 200 boxes of her husband’s archives, moved a few times. I have the impression of acting as a mediator between Marie Kondo and the Dalai Lama (whom they incidentally met in a Buddhist temple in Longueuil).
Caroline still rails against those moldy boxes in the garage… which is only a garage in name. Maka darkens (Distinguished Brown, 6084-73); he retains all of his past as an actor, deputy, Minister of Culture. His archives are a legacy for his grandchildren.
It’s really fun for me to shop a white…
I dare to interfere between them, risking our friendship: “But Caroline, Maka is an expat. As a good immigrant, he keeps everything, precisely because he has no references around him. You, your whole cultural landscape reminds you of who you are. For him, Cameroon is in the garage. Caroline is still feeling her inner Kondo (Sweet Aphrodite, 6050-11). Maka concludes: “There you go. There is a chapter missing from our book. »
Or maybe just a “Life is good” on the garage door?
Instagram: josee.blanchette
Joblog | These lost illusions