The language politics of Iceland and Quebec

A (or One) Skeptic

Recently my friend Bonnie and I went to the Montreal Jazz Festival. Very cool, if a little overwhelming. We decided to stay outside of the city in a little place called the Motel Iberville in Saint Jean sur Richelieu, about 20 minutes outside of Montreal. Our plan was to go to one of the Metro end stations from there for the ride into the city. Along the way we could save a little money, and it would be easy getting in and out of the city. And all of that worked just fine.

Now, we know that the Quebecois are very proud of their French language, and we knew that we were going to encounter some people that didn’t speak English so well. Boy, did we ever. Some of their English wasn’t much better than my French, and that’s setting the bar pretty low.

About a month earlier…

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The Wandering Tooth Brusher

Fieldwork in Stilettos

I am what I like to call an EFFICIENT teeth brusher. I mean why stand there at the bathroom sink when you could be getting things done instead? Laundry for example, or checking your email.

Sometimes I even brush my teeth in the shower. I know this sounds crazy but again, I say no, not crazy. Efficient. I developed this technique when I lived in London.  There was no division between the bathroom floor and the shower; it was all just one big mass of tile. I was a grad student at the time and therefore I was A) always stressed out and B) always pressed for time. Brushing my teeth in the shower made perfect sense. All counted, I think I saved probably an entire eight or nine minutes over the course of a year. And one can do a lot in eight or nine minutes. Like, you know…

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