This fact was brought to the here-and-now as I stopped at the border between Vermont and the province of Quebec. "Bonjour, hi," the customs agent said, almost as one word.
Remember I said that Canada is officially bilingual? Yeah, that's for the English speaking provinces only, evidently. Quebec has zero signage in English, at least where I was, and a good part of that was travelling along Autoroute 20, a major east-west freeway comparable to a US Interstate. I was okay reading the French signage -- I took French in junior high and high school -- and my trusty Garmin seemed on target, despite mangling the pronunciations. But then again, he does that for English words, as well.
My problem came when it was time for a break. McDonald's is my favorite bathroom stop; the facilities are generally well maintained, and there's hardly a stretch in the US where a Macs is more than 30 miles away. I stood looking at the menu above the mob of Francophones and panicked. I couldn't find my favorite grilled chicken sandwich, and for the life of me, I couldn't remember how to say "grilled". For some reason, I thought that the drive through would be a better choice.
Um, no.
After a barrage of French issued from the speaker, I asked, "Parlez-vous Anglais? English?"
Awkward pause, and the general idea of "no".
I pushed ahead and tried to order a grilled chicken sandwich with a diet Coke. I ended up with a crispy chicken sandwich, regular Coke, and french fries which I didn't realize I'd ordered.
The only other time I had to stop in Quebec, I decided to go inside. It was a quieter place, I used the international spread-your-hands-up-and-down to show a large drink, and tried my french again. The young cashier smiled and gave me the thumbs up.
So yet again, it's better to talk to the locals face-to-face, even if part of what you say gets lost in translation.
