In Montreal, a different approach to cultural change

Visiting a new city, a new culture, can broaden perspectives, providing a view from outside of one's home society and how it approaches change. During a trip to eastern Canada this month, I was struck by sharp differences in how each nation views the cultural makeup of its societies, including -- or perhaps because of -- how public messages are posed.

Attending a conference in a major city keeps one busy with participation in panels (convened in hotel basement conference rooms) and conversations with colleagues, but it is also an opportunity to notice how other societies are conducted by reading their newspapers, watching their television and traveling about the city.

As I prepared to return home after attending the international conference of the Latin American Studies Association held in Montreal, Canada, I started realizing I had experienced a different approach to cultural change, one that is inclusive rather than restrictive.

With a couple of hours to kill before departing for the airport, I strolled downtown and took in contrasts to U.S. urban environments. Montreal is a lovely city, somewhat similar to New York and other cities in its economic and civic sector, what with skyscrapers towering around luscious cathedrals and historic buildings with monuments, statues and parks scattered among them.

Its central park, Parc du Mont-Royal, was in fact designed by the same architect who designed New York City's Central Park. Montreal has in common with the Bay Area its nature as the silicon capital of that country. In fact, professionals in this industry often trade time in each location.

A contrast that stood out to me was the city's cleanliness: no trash along streets and sidewalks and no graffiti on buildings in any area where I walked. On that final day, I strolled through the civic center and headed up the Rue Peel in search of a patisserie so that I could enjoy one of their magnificent croissants with spinach/mushroom filling.

I passed the famous Windsor Hotel which has hosted queens of England (now with a tapas bar at its side), noticed the diversity of small restaurants: a creperie, a Subway sandwich shop, an Asian noodle shop and the ubiquitous Mexican restaurant found in cities around the world. I smiled to see the flashing words for an upstairs dance studio advertising classes for cha-cha-chá, merengue and tango (looking similar to upstairs studios along Buenos Aires streets).

The only homeless person I observed during my stroll was an older white man, a grocery cart of belongings at his side. I considered fishing out some coins, but noticed there was no basket or cup near him. He sat with head inclined, not meeting the eyes of passers-by, seeming to simply take in the midday warmth. When I passed him again upon my return, he was about to open a styrofoam to-go container; apparently someone had just provided him with a meal.

I sat down with my coffee and croissant in the Place du Canada and was promptly joined by a red squirrel that hopped up alongside me on the bench, while pigeons and sea gulls also clamored for attention. Even nonhumans love these croissants, I thought, and went over in my head the few words of French I had used in the patisserie, which seemed to suffice despite the fact I had not

spoken French for many years.

It occurred to me that watching the news in French on the television, as well as a two-hour documentary on Pavarotti, may have helped pull vocabulary out of the deep recesses of my memory.

Then I remembered how my colleagues had noticed things such as all taxi drivers being Lebanese, and the clerks operating underground food courts were all Asian. I had visited the impressive Basilique Notre Dame cathedral (where Celine Dion was married, and Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau's funeral was held) in the Old Town sector,

and in the tourist shop nearby, met a clerk who told me she was from Querétaro,

Mexico.

She was fluent in French, but when she heard my colleagues and I speaking Spanish, she addressed us in

Spanish. I asked how long she had lived there (three years), and what brought her to Canada. She said it was the desire to make a better life for herself. I asked if she minded the cold winters, and she said not at all, that she loved living in Montreal.

I started remembering a commercial -- a public service announcement -- that I had seen frequently on television in a bilingual city.

At first there was no sound, just words appearing (in English) on the screen: On the first line: "Canadian culture." Then, on a second line: "is changing." A pause followed, and then letters began appearing from the opposite direction, from right to left, three consonants and a vowel, making "ist", then a space, and other letters, which did not make words I was familiar with in English or Romance languages.

I knew that Asian languages are written from right to left, but I was not sure an Asian language was being represented. As it concluded, an audible statement was made in French, which I had not understood or could not remember, and yet, the commercial had made an impression on me. It constituted an official appeal for understanding from the public -- presumably long-term residents -- in terms of recent changes.

What if something similar occurred in the United States? What if we embraced change and diversity of cultures, the ongoing reality of a society's makeup? That is how Montreal has reacted to immigration and newer, different groups in their city.