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Aux Francophones qui font (ont fait) leurs études au Canada....
J’envisage faire une maîtrise en lettres au Québec. Connaissez-vous quelles universités ont les meilleurs programmes ? L'Université de Montréal qui me semble bien, mais y’a aussi Laval et l’UQAM et l’UQAR… je suis en peu paumée
#Match a #colazione. 😏🏒🍞 #paradoxe2018 #uqar #luis #patinoire #improvlife #italiacanada #mastaifermaunattimo (presso UQAR - Campus de Lévis) https://www.instagram.com/p/BpcM3kPgD-u/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1jlsh4xhg6n1o
L’uqar a le meilleur service de PEB de toute la province. #Uqar #recrutement #reflexionsurlecontemporain (à UQAR - Université du Québec à Rimouski)
Une première vidéo pour le tournoi du Paradoxe 2017 ! #arachpictures #arachblog #paradoxe2017 #levis #quebec #impro #uqar
Un petit gars dans son carré de sable 📑🖊📐 #architecture #complexeGlacePiscine #UQAR #Rimouski #chantier (à UQAR - Université du Québec à Rimouski)
En forme pour un week-end d'études! #uqar #université #certificat #gestiondeprojet #etudes #filtre (à Paspebiac, Quebec)
Chronicles from the French Side, pt. 1 : Transportationning to the Best of Both Worlds
Disclaimer: This piece is sort of a test. Not that my pieces aren’t generally tests to begin with. This whole blog is a test. But this could be a “pilot episode” for a series I would write for my old Uni, because they seemed pretty pleased with my shark story. Series, which, most likely won’t happen. Regardless of my old Uni’s opinion, here is the first episode:
September 13th, Rimouski, Qc
Like Dalhousie, UQAR (Université du Québec à Rimouski) hosts another important ocean science research center, in the eastern part of the country (ISMER – Institut des sciences de la mer à Rimouski). Unlike Halifax and Dalhousie, Rimouski is relatively small (for those of you – like myself – who already consider Halifax as being small), and is located in the part of Canada that is made from French concentrate (i.e. Quebec). This gives Rimouski and UQAR contrasting dynamics to Halifax and Dalhousie, for the better or for the worst.
These chronicles have for goals to bring to you the aforementioned contrasts from the comfort of your orange leather couch in the Killam, to make you chuckle a little bit as you spill some mayo from your Subway sub onto a copy of the Dal Gazette, and maybe even to make you reflect on your life while it is at it.
- Was Dal the right choice?!? –
You will never know for sure.
---
So Rimouski, huh? What’s, Rimouski?
Well, Rimouski is a place. That is what it is. A little city located in the Lower Saint-Lawrence region of Quebec (just west of the Gaspésie region), bordering the Saint-Lawrence river. It is approximately an 8-hour drive from Halifax, if you are curious. So, it is closer to Halifax than Montreal and even Quebec City, if you were debating on where to vacation over the fall reading week (there is a reading week now, right?). In the meantime, I shall try to convince you to come visit me, in Rimouski.
For you, Rimouski may be small, but for the area, it is somewhat central. Kind of like Halifax to Nova Scotia. Or like Prince-George to northern BC, if any of you have ventured out there (looking at you, fellow tree planters ;-) ).
Generally speaking, the thought of a small place you do not know much about is not overly exciting and that is part of the reason why I first chose Dal over UQAR. Now, I am backtracking on this decision, in part to seek contrast – in part, to find a small place that is not overrun by competition.
So far, from my grand total of 1 week of being here (maybe more like 10 days), I have found that indeed, this place is most definitely not overrun by competition. But will I find what I look for, deep down? Will I find the best of both worlds? Will I find fulfillment?
I may never find what I look for deep down because exactly what that is remains a mystery for me to this day, to the great despair of my parents. However, a good friend from tree planting who heard I was headed for Rimouski this fall made me believe it is possible to get the best of both worlds out here, from his visible ecstaticness every time he spoke about the place. “What a beautiful place”, he would recall, “and the most beautiful thing is its people”. As for finding fulfillment, come again in four months. Or perhaps, when I will have answered the first question.
***
So exactly what type of “small” is Rimouski? I will attempt to start answering that question in this piece.
***
Before coming here, I did a bit of apartment research, as you would expect from anyone my age moving to a certain place for at least a few months. I noticed with great merriment that rent in Rimouski is cheap. At least, if you compare it to Halifax. Amongst the listing were rents cheaper than what I had ever seen before: cheaper than Montreal, cheaper than Ottawa, definitely cheaper than Halifax, and rivaling rents I have seen in Dominican Republic and Mexico.
I wanted to take advantage of the cheapness of the rent to its fullest, so I stopped my search on a room listed at two hundred and seventy-five dollars per month, all inlcuded. Yes, you read that right: two hundred and seventy-five (275) dollars per month. Everything. Included. That represents about 1/3 to ½ of the rents in Halifax… So for one month lived in Halifax, I get to live 3 in Rimouski! It goes without saying that I prefer living for a longer period of time, if at all possible. I don’t care if you think my logic is flawed.
The room was located just outside the central area of Rimouski, and Google Maps told me it would take ninety minutes to walk to campus but only thirty to bike. Walking would thus not be an option, but it looked like there was a sweet bike path I could follow all the way to school. Surely public transit would be an option for less-than-optimal biking days. Or so I thought.
Rimouski’s city website indicated that “there is public transit”, without further detail. “Strange”, I thought, “slightly inconvenient”, I thought further. However, I was sure that that would be an issue I would have no problem resolving once I was there, on site.
***
After what was a hectic move out of Halifax coupled with a SEASIDE course that most inconveniently ended on September 1st, I made it to my new Quebec-bound place on the evening of September 2nd. The night was clear and the stars were shinning. My backyard was basically a field. My mother suggested I take a photo of it, photoshop a few cows on the grass, and send it to my siblings.
It felt really good to be in a place like this: a nice rural setting, not too far from the city. A bit further than what I am used to, but it is a nice compromise for both worlds, right?
As my parents and I were visiting my new campus, we stumbled upon an informative public transit pamphlet, hanging on a bulletin board. We flipped through it.
There were three circuits: circuit 11, circuit 21 and circuit 31. Each of them followed a designated route in circle fashion. That meant that if they rode past a bus stop in a certain direction, it most certainly did not mean that there was a homologous bus stop across the street for when the bus would travel in reverse direction. Because there were no reverse directions. This did not bother me too much because I saw that circuit 31 had a stop at the end of the road I chose to live on, no matter its direction, and seemed to have a route that went all the way downtown.
From the looks of it, I was to use my bike most days to go from a rural-esque house, with a view on the Saint-Lawrence river, to downtown Rimouski, using a scenic bike path that would take me through woods and by the sea side. On days when I could not use my bike (like most days when there would be snow), I was to use the bus that goes by my house and drops me off downtown. Amazing! I was “gras dur” as my mother put it, which directly translates to “hard fat” - or more loosely translates to “well in my means”.
Now, let’s put this “gras dur” theory into practice.
On the first day of class, I rode my bike down to downtown and dropped it off at the bike repair center to have a “check-up” done. I then walked to school, which took about 40 minutes. My fast walking pace combined with the day’s humid air resulted in sweat profusing out of my pores as I walked through the doors of my new institution. Good thing I had thought ahead and entered directly through the physical education arm to take a shower and dress myself in the clean, dry t-shirt that I had brought as extra.
When came the time to head back home for the day, I was to head back by bus as my bicycle would not yet have been ready for pickup. I inspected circuit 31’s details more carefully on the public transportation pamphlet to find out exactly where to wait and when. From my understanding, the bus passed every thirty minutes, which was acceptable, but the closest bus stop was after the bridge, which was strange considering it seemed to have an extensive route downtown. That meant I was going to have to walk further past the place where I dropped off my bike in the morning.
[I WOULD INSERT A MAP HERE] (instead, here is a photo of me looking pensively into the distance in Parc du Bic, for lack of better imagery at the moment - obviously, I would send slightly more relevant content to the newspaper)
I made my way to the bus stop. It was raining. I hopped onto the bus and walked off 15 minutes later. I walked about 10 minutes up a gruelingly steep hill. It was raining. It was not great, “but hey, maybe it will work out alright?”, I thought, in an attempt to be a good sport for myself.
Acknowledging the fact that this hill would almost certainly be too steep to ride my bike up back to my place, I was toying with the idea of locking it somewhere down the hill, near the bus stop – that way, I could still ride my bike to town and back, not worry about either the hill or the public transit, and save time.
However, public transit was going to have to be a source of worry on a regular basis eventually. Snow is going to happen, and ice is going to happen, and bike is not going to happen.
Bike is not going to happen and taking all factors into consideration, public transit was not going to happen either. It was not going to be a viable option for me to go from point A to point B. In my mind, the public transit was a joke. Had I been spoiled in Halifax by being able to walk basically everywhere, or at least everywhere I needed to / wanted to? Had I been extra spoiled because when I still lived in Montreal, in my tender pre-20s apartment years, I was always so close to the Metro system? Perhaps so. But I did not care. I needed to find another option.
Did I mention a monthly pass was fifty dollars? Unlike Dalhousie, UQAR’s student union does not force feed the monthly bus passes into overall tuition costs. In reality, I may as well pay the fifty-dollar difference in rent if I am going to “me faire chier” with the transport system, like we say in “bon québecois”.
I had been warned about the public transit here being a joke but decided to give Rimouski the benefit of the doubt. Benefit of the doubt given, let’s move on. And move.
***
What a shame. I had just moved into my new rural-esque place not even a week ago and had already decided it was not good enough for me. In all fairness, I could not have known for sure that that would have been the case. Never have I live in a city that was so small that public transit was not a reliable way of getting around.
The moral of this story is that Rimouski is small enough to have small rent, big enough to have public transit, but too small for the latter to count. Consequently, UQAR and Rimouski are too small for certain public services’ fees to be worth combining with tuition.
Living a bit further than what I am used to was not a good compromise for both worlds. In the next part of these chronicles, I will attempt to adjust this compromise.
Fallait bien la poster un jour cette photo-là! Eh oui, pour une deuxième année, c'est UQARadio qui gagne la mention de Meilleur Projet Émergeant. On est pas mal fiers !
P.S: Sur la photo de gauche à droite, Philippe (a.k.a Fil), Véro (a.k.a Gratts), et Batistin (a.k.a Batin)
La preuve que de gros efforts peuvent être récompensés ;)
