Cultural Sensitivity for New Years Eve in Quebec

'Vieux Quebec'

(Canon P/ Kodak Tri-X 400)

I have not gone out for New Years Eve for at least 8 years.  In fact, I haven't even bothered to stay awake till midnight for the last five!  Why was this?  Well, I live in Pittsburgh, and the thought of going out to celebrate the New Year with a bunch of drunken "yinzer" ASBOs is a thought too awful for me to contemplate....

New Year's Eve in 2023 was different, though.  Over the course of the year I had made two life-changing friendships: Doina, my Travel Wife and Svetlana, my Travel Girlfriend. Not only do they love to travel, but they can also put up with my rapier wit, love of adult-beverages, and shockingly small bladder.  They have chosen to find me charming.

Desiring to leave the state of Pennsylvania, Doina and I had tossed around a number of locations to travel to for the holiday.  We considered New Orleans, Rio de Janeiro, Marrakech; but in the end we cast all of those warm and sunny locations aside and chose to go to the frozen Canadian north: Quebec City.

For dinner that evening I booked Doina and I a table at 'La Sagamite' of the Hotel Louisbourg in Old Quebec.  The restaurant is named after an indigenous soup made with venison and vegetables, and having a menu of "First Nations" inspired meals, I had no doubt the evening would be handled with great cultural sensitivity.

The illusion of respect for the indigenous peoples of Canada fell apart when the entirely Caucasian waiting staff sang 'Happy Birthday' to a table next to us with drums, chanting, and dramatics that I can only describe as 'interpretive dance' with a tribal flavour.  Thank God the Canadian government did such a bang-up job oppressing the native peoples of North America because it would have been very awkward had one of them been eating in the restaurant that night. 

In spite of the painfully cringy cultural appropriation, the food was excellent!  We shared a 'meat tree' of elk and venison which was set on fire at our table.  The delicious meal, plus two Negronis and a bottle of wine, took my mind off the horrendous faux-native dinner-theater we had just witnessed.

Being past 11pm, so it was time to start thinking about the New Year.  Fortunately, we were just a short walk from the main concert area.  The evening's entertainment would be provided by an artist named "DJ Meduza". 

At this point we stood in a massive crowd of Canadian revelers before a large stage containing one DJ Meduza.  Doina and I were easily some of the oldest people there, so we attempted to blend in and look "cool".  I was going to attempt the native 'interpretive dancing' I had seen at the restaurant, but then thought better of it.

Our efforts to look hip in front of the Canadian youths ended when at 10 minutes to midnight, Doina pulled out two glasses and a bottle of champagne from her chic travel backpack.  Even in the very congested park, with the music blasting and people dancing, I was able to pop the bottle of bubbly and fill the glasses without injuring myself or others.  I am a professional.

After the clock struck midnight and the fireworks were over, it was team to head back to the rented apartment.  I must say, even as the massive crowd of people began to disperse, the young Canadians were extremely patient and courteous.  If this had been America, there would have been at least 10 fights breaking out between angry, drunken "bros".  I was happy that Canada lived up to it's stereotype of civility.

The only negative mark on the evening was the walk home.  I absolutely HAD to go to the loo.....very badly.  Unfortunately, Doina does not understand that I am incapable of urinating in public or near large groups of people.  She feels that I need to seek therapy for this, but I contend that my ancestors did not climb to the top of the food chain over 6 million years of evolution just to have a slash while the eyes of thousands of Canadians bore into my soul.

Back at the apartment I released what felt like 10 gallons of liquid into the sewer system of Quebec City and called it a night.