SOCHI, RUSSIA – We don’t often think of Quebec.
Things got quiet, politically. They slipped our mind.
Every once in a while, they’ll arrest a mayor and we’ll think, ‘Good ol’ Quebec.’
Then they’ll ban headscarves and we’ll think, ‘Quebec. Never liked those guys.’
Over recent years, Quebec has, in our minds, become Alberta or Nova Scotia — a place over yonder as opposed to an in-utero foreign country.
The resentfulness that animated our relationship with Canada’s most fractious province was a function of sibling rivalry. They wanted Mom and Dad to set them up once they left home. We wondered why, if they were so determined to leave, they couldn’t cut it on their own.
But every time they change their mind, we’re happy to see them back. Whether or not they think of it this way, we’re blood.
Then we forget about them again. They’re over there . . . being French.
The idea of Quebec only occurs to me now in two ways: ‘I have to get back to Montreal’ (or, a slight alteration, depending on how long I’ve spent on the streetcar that morning, ‘I have to move to Montreal’); and ‘Good thing they’re here to save our ass at the Winter Olympics.’
The other night, we were all boozing in a decrepit bar in our apartment block. It was late. Too late. The Anglos were arrayed around one table. A bunch of Quebecers were arrayed around another.
Every time someone walked in the door, the Quebecers burst into a song, slamming their palms on the table. When the Russian doorman came over and signalled for them to be quiet, they sang the song just for him. Baffled, he retreated to a corner.
After a while, they added a bit in English at the end: “. . . and the Leafs DON’T MAKE THE PLAYOFFS.”
And I’m sitting there thinking, ‘Man, I’ve got to get back to Montreal.’
As of early afternoon Tuesday, Canada had nine medals (including a gold and bronze in ski slopestyle).
For the first time in our history, we led the total medal table at an Olympics before the Norwegians passed us later in the day.
Of those nine, six have been won by Quebecers.
If Quebec were a separate country, it would currently stand fourth on the Sochi medal table, tied with U.S. and Russia.
The six medals they’ve won in only four days here would already qualify as the 9th best total medal haul in Canadian Winter Olympic history.
After he won his medal in the mountains, Bilodeau was baited on this topic (by a British journo, natch). Did he realize how well Quebec could do here on its own?
Right when the rest of us really needed him, Bilodeau didn’t flinch.
“We’re proud to be Quebecer, but we’re proud to be Canadian,” he said. “Yes, we do a lot of good things in Quebec, but there are great things all across Canada.”
If you worked yourself up to it, you could probably burst into tears every day at the Olympics.
They’re proud in other ways, too. And so are we.
But right now seems like the right time to have a moment with Quebec.
We haven’t always agreed, but this relationship — recently, at least — has never been reduced to ugliness. We’ve both always tried to be respectful.
Whenever we actually meet, we’re surprised at how much we really do care about each other.
And now that you’re carrying the flag — our flag — so beautifully . . . Thank you.
We’ve always loved you. One of the great things about the Olympics is that it reminds us to tell you that.