Montreal you are so beautiful but please I speak only two languages and the other is not French.

I had removed this from my post. I did so mainly because I did not want to offend anyone. However, this is not meant to offend. Opinions here, unless I say our mine, are not really mine. Some is hearsay. So, I have reposted this with some amendments because I have an objective in how I see life and wish to write about it. I think positive change is important. We are emotional beings but we are also intelligent beings. We see life from our own persepectives. Sometimes, we need to see life from the perspectives of others who suffer. To move ahead in life, we need to think what it is we want in life for ourselves? Why is it difficult for some people to examine a difference and not get emotionally charged where they will insult or even kill another? There are different opinions and different perspectives. We can live in no where land and never know there is a life out there different from our own. Communist countries are famous for that. Ask China. Oh don't. Recently a diplomat got very upset with a reporter for asking about the arrest of a Canadian. The diplomat though here in Canada as our guest thought he was in a position where his view was more important. Of course it made the news. I was proud that our Prime Minister was not impressed with him either. This is a free country and I hope it shall always be free. However, I think that all people should be free. So read and enjoy, two days in my life. I write about it because I think it speaks. My monthly trips to Montreal is almost becoming routine. I am now greeted by my hotel manager by name, as I enter. That is a bonus. I do not destroy hotel rooms and I do not steal towels. I leave a tip which I am sure is below standard but I am now a regular. On my last trip my tooth flew out of my mouth and I gasped in horror. I was fortunate enough to find a dental office where I was asked if I could wait for fifteen minutes. “Wee Wee, yes I can wait.” I found the service was cheaper than where I go to in Toronto, however, I can still smile without looking like the wicked witch of the West. I may have to incur the costs of the dental work since the insurance rejected their claim. I have yet to write a letter of explanation to the insurance people. However, I am just grateful that they took me in immediately. I love laughing and smiling etc….so ……………..However, I am delaying going to my own dentist until I am sure my tooth does not pop out. Everyone was so polite and obliging even though I could not speak French. However, on this trip I found some subtle hints by a few incidents that perhaps not everyone is so welcoming to non speaking French visitors. I normally spend time in company of people who fully embrace me and love me regardless of my English speaking handicap. I love it immensely that I can look outside my hotel room and have the best vista ever. I love it that I can cross the street and get my second best coffee and walk a block away and get my Starbucks. I had Lebanese food for the first time on this trip out in the patio enjoying the best weather ever with zilch humidity. Being surrounded by university students and profs is always a comfort in whatever place in Canada and abroad. For others it may be a security blanket. However, during this trip when I went to the Business section of Via and sat where I normally sit where the coffee is of course, my screen no longer had an English station. Now there are two other tv screens at either end, but the main screen (I call it as the main, now reports the news in the French language). Why I asked the woman who normally checks my ID? As she left to find out, one of the American men smiled at me. One for me for speaking up. Would I speak out about something like that in another country. Of course not. Especially if they throw me in jail for having a voice and being a woman. No sireeeeeee. But hey, this is Canada, the land of opportunity, right? So, if I am curious about why my tv screen is now “French” where I like to sit at the bar and drink my coffee and watch people walking by to go to work, What is wrong with that? I enjoy listening to what tourists think of our city. I want them to have a pleasant vacation and return. I love it when a tourist stops me to ask a question and I oblige as if I am getting paid by the city to do so. I have travelled much and always appreciate kindness and not having a submachine gun pointed at my stomach. I hear a few Americans talking. I like Americans perhaps because I grew up with American television and feel a kindred spirit. “I was at the York years ago and I am amazed at the improvements. Did you stay there?” Mr American is asking another Mr American, “No. But I was in the lobby and that was very nice.” While they are talking, I think of the last time I was at the Royal York having high tea which included a tour of the roof garden and bee hive. They were talking nice of my city and I always enjoy that. “Look at all the people!” another Mr American declares. I look at all the people and do not think that they are all that much out there. “…. and they are not wriff wraff either.” I am still looking out and no there is no wriff wraff. No, only business people are walking at this time of the day but I remain quiet. After all this is not my conversation (wriff wraff? I haven’t heard of that expression since……? I have brought two books to read, one is a psychology book which I won at a seminar and I am close to reading two hundred pages but it is very dry and I studied personality psychology, so a lot of it is boring. Actually, most of it is. It was written by a professor at York University but I never had him. During my time, all the texts were American. “Why?” I had asked. The answer was that Canadians were not writing them, but that has changed. The other book is a page turner that is difficult to put down. “No Time For Goodbye” by Linwood Barclay. His photo looked familiar and why not? He is a former columnist for the Toronto Star. They usually have a small photo of reporters telling their stories so that is probably why he looks familiar. I never did read my text book on the trip (my bad). I have to read, etc… for my college. It would probably just be easier to go back to school and do my PHD. Actually, I was checking out the best school in North America and dismissed it immediately when I read that the professor’s one regret was torturing an animal. He used psychology to explain that but there is no way on earth that I would ever, ever torture an animal or person and so I have finally dismissed that university. I would not be able to shake hands with the man. Now I did have a student once tell me that she felt bothered that she had to kill pregnant rabbits to study their fetuses. She could not understand how to deal with that bothering her. My response to her was that she should start worrying when it stopped bothering her. Now this is from me who had to drop science which I loved so much in high school because Mr Meanie high school teacher wanted me to dissect a frog and I refused. Really people! I feel for students who have problems with their elementary and high school teachers. Don’t give up. Hang in there. Anyhow, really if you are going to advertise your university and their profs in that matter, I don’t care how much money you attract, how old you are and how long you have been number one, I would never, never, never go there, even for free after reading that bio. Sometimes reputation is all about money. Anyhow, enough about torture for now. The train lady comes back and tells me that the French screen decision derives from Headquarters in Montreal and they cannot change that but I can complain to Via. “No” I respond. I pick my battles and because they picked my favourite screen, in front of my favourite stool, where I love to drink my coffee, and not see wiff wraff, why should I complain? “There are two screens on either side of the French speaking one, speaking English. So the French have centre stage? Anyhow, I am nice to the Via employee because I love Via, the food is great, the service is spectacular and I consider our service the best. However, I would love to see the French speaking screens somewhere away from my main coffee area. I tell the Via employee that I pick my battles and will not be complaining because Via is good to vets, giving them 25% off. I don’t think anyone beats them in Canada. Though many vets complain about what they are getting, I remember a time when nothing was given, nada. You will have to read my second book to learn more about that (www.silvaredigonda.com go ahead I dare you to buy one of my books). So, I am not complaining about anything at all, just remarking about the French speaking screen which no one was watching. It may look like I am watching the screen but I am reading the other. I read about a Japanese seven year old boy who was left in a forest by his parents to punish him and now he cannot be found. I wonder how scared that little boy is and feel for him. I understand that the parents probably love him very much and will have to live with what they did because the little boy has still not been found (I am glad he was found and is ok). That is why we need to educate parents on how to be parents. They have the most important job in the world and no tools on how to be the best they can be for their young ones - very sad indeed. So, now I am alone. All the Americans have gone. They would sneak peeks at me. Yup, this is what a Canadian looks like. A few smile and I smile back because I am a polite and nice Canadian. I can see that one of the Americans loves it that I was brave enough to make a comment, polite as it was, about a French speaking screen, in the main part that people like to grab their coffee and pop. Yes, sireeeeeeee. Of course they do not need to know that we do not all have manners. When Via had a bowl of chocolates at Easter, I was surprised to see one woman fill her pockets. They really should be teaching manners in school. Can you imagine, “Ok listen here girls and boys. When you see a big bowl of chocolates meant for everyone how many would you take? Little boy raises hand. “My mom takes as much as she can. She says she has paid for them?” “And what do you think?” Little boy looks very seriously at the teacher. “I did not see her pay for anything.” I decide to get a head start to the area where I will get on my train. I go by the endless line where a mob of people are waiting for the train to Montreal. I casually stroll by them all and stand behind a man and his young daughter in the business class area. The man begins to talk to me, while his young daughter gives me the eye. She is cautious about me. I smile at her. The smile is not returned. He is a visitor and I encourage him to come and live in Canada where his daughter will have more opportunities, than she ever can living in her home country. He ponders the possibility. I see my fellow business class people (they removed First class to make it sound nicer and more inclusive?). Euphemisms have replaced what may sound unpleasant or offensive. We live in a very non -offensive city. Hey just last weekend I was at a garage sale and saw an old fashioned chalkboard with a protruding cup of java and some inscription etc…. “How much do you want to pay for it?” The tall charismatic, very self assured man said as he approached me from nowhere. “How much do you want” I asked in reply and this was repeated back and forth and then he suddenly declared $50.00. I walked away. Mr Charismatic apologized for offending me. “I guessed he was a teacher because he was so concerned about offending me.” Is he impressed? I guessed correctly which was not too difficult since I was at a school bazaar. “How is 4.00?” he asks. I look at the sign and wonder if it will look tacky in my kitchen. I give him the 4.00 and after seeing it on my kitchen wall replacing the famous cafe shop in Paris, I knew it was a good deal. It has lots of character and I have not seen anything like it before. I thought it would look good only in a bar but my gut was right. Anyhow, how did I stray to my find? Of course - First class, primo or prima classa - no more - now business class - Same difference. There is some confusion of where we are supposed to go, because once again there is construction. I overhear the female Via employee who pops up speaking into her radio explaining that she was not at her post because she was helping someone. Me thinks, perhaps calling someone to help one person may be better than a group of business - 1st class looking like lost sheep trying to find a detour to the train. A tall elegant looking black woman in a fine business suit is behind me claiming she is lost. She is American and it is her first time with Via. I assure her that this is a mere hiccup and that service is wonderful at Via. She admits she heard me ask about the French speaking screen. I let her know that it was a new change. With monthly trips you get to notice change, which becomes the new normal if no one notices, like our grocery packages and cans getting smaller and smaller while the prices carefully grow. You are not fooling anyone Corps. She follows me to business (first class). We enter the train and she wonders where she is supposed to be sitting. I assure her that I shall help. There and behold we are sitting on opposite seats from each other (I was supposed to sit by myself - a mere hiccip). By the end of the trip we are buddies. I think I have convinced her that Via is the best and Amtrack not so much. She raises an interesting point. Why does Amtrack not learn from Via? Very good question. At one point I said it. “How is Trump?” She grins, “I was waiting to see how long it was going to take?” She gets it all the time We talk about Trump for a bit and we seem to be in agreement with the politics. We depart at the train station to our respective locations. I have met so many interesting people travelling. I realize that I want to do it more and that I miss it. When I called for my hotel room there was only one remaining. I did not expect what I was given. She said it was a suite. I thought it was a condo. It had two bedrooms with three beds, a kitchen dining/living room with wall to wall glass. I sit at the arm chair by the window and look up at the hill and all it offers. I’m in heaven. I look down at the street and see the liveliness of the city. “This is all I would need” I think or do I say it out loud? Of course I need a balcony? I ponder at how long it has been since I actually lived in an apartment. A house needs so much care but a condo? Something to think about. I think back to my view of a condo on the waterfront which I fell in love with, however, my school mate did not appreciate it. I was asked to come along since I love water. I saw the planes landing and the CN tower beside me and even the 17th floor did not dissuade me. If I had no pets who love fresh air and the freedom of being spoiled in a house, I would have grabbed it in a second. Options are always open. I love options. I go visit my cousin and he tells people how I visit him (monthly) and how it is good for me because he forces me to take a vacation. I marvel at the insight. I love my cousin and there is no doubt that he loves me. He is like a second dad to me. He is dying and I have promised to visit him monthly until he does. I am exhausted but he insists that I stay longer and so I do. He tells me his arms feel itchy and so I go to “Metro” It is a big grocery store and we have them all over Toronto. I enter and I ask for skin cream. She responds in the French language. I tell her I do not speak French. She appears angry for some reason. I find the cream and then I try to pay for it but there is no one at the counters. I return to the woman who is engaged in a conversation in the French language with another employee. She is looking at me as she continues speaking in French. Finally she takes the time to address me again in the French language. I ask where I can pay for the product. She points to the same register where I have just returned from and glares at me. I return to the register and a young woman later comes to the register. I am fuming by now at the rudeness of the older woman. The younger woman smiles. I don’t think she likes the deportment of the older woman. I go to an adjacent pharmacy and buy sun block for myself since I was informed that Metro does not carry it. I am sure Toronto does. The woman at the pharmacy is so civil in contrast to the “Metro” woman that I thank her for being kind. I share my experience. She nods. She tells me that she tries to explain to people who feel that everyone should speak French that she has travelled throughout the world and everyone speaks English as a second language. I nod in agreement. We both agree that it is too bad for Montreal. I have another experience and I am asked if I come from England. This is from a hospital porter I believe. I miss it at first. I do not realize initially that he is being smart. He tells me he is joking. I accept it and dismiss it and recall hearing on the news that at a particular hospital some staff member was refusing to speak English in Montreal. It is not the same hospital. I have the opportunity to talk to many people and one immigrant tells me he wants to go and live in St Catherines since he is tired of the anti English dissidents. I tell him that he would love St Catherines. He is angry and he speaks French fluently. “It is the government, the Separatists!” he declares. I think about that one. He begins to swear in anger and I wonder how such a beautiful city can be so divided by mere language alone. It gives me a lot to think about. There are countries where they fight about religion, gender etc……..However, we are in Canada. I returned to Metro deciding I will complain to the American Corporation about the English/French incident. Regardless, of a person’s political view, when employed they have a job to do for that company. I approach the woman who had been so rude, not wanting to speak English when she knew how and behaving quite condescending. I ask for a card. There is a complete round about change in her personality. She knows I will be complaining. She is suddenly polite with flawless English speech, aside from the accent. She says she does not have a card. I accept the change in her demeanour. I suddenly feel sorry for her. So much hostility for something so silly as not speaking a language that others wish to impose on you. I thank her and leave. I met another elderly woman who does not speak French but has lived in Montreal all her life. She tells me that she has gotten used to people being rude to her. I look at this gentile woman, dressed meticulously, and her husband and realize that I could never live in a city where one demeans another by simply something as mundane as language. Of course, when they speak European French, I am amazed at how much I do understand. One man tells me not to go to a particular place because they have “separatists.” He tells me how he goes there only when he must for business and how fast he leaves it. I tell him that this can only be temporary. I see so many new immigrants now living in Montreal and that as it becomes more multicultural things will change. Then I am told, “Did you know that a Saudi Arabian has bought the Fairmount and is renovating it?” “The Fairmount?” I ask stupidly. “Yes, like your Royal York in Toronto?” I respond in kind, “Really?” I recall being told that a California woman was sexually assaulted by a Saudi Prince and that it was hushed with money. “How do you know about it then?” I asked. “The underground paper” he replied, “from our country.” I ponder once again. On my return to Via to come home, I check the internet but cannot utilize my email because if is in French. On my last visit it was the same and I tried to change it to English but though it had about five other language options, English was not one of them. I wonder how much energy it must take to be angry. I will always love Montreal. I have fond memories of my time there. I have met so many caring and loving people. I get on a taxi here after a relaxing trip with a wonderful meal in the train on the way home. I meet someone who wants to work in Dubai. He will do well. There is no middle class there, only rich and poor he informs me. He seems pleases about that. He is sure he will be rich. He is a student with a promising career. “Perhaps since you are male, but not me as a woman.” I respond. He is shocked that I would think that. “I am very vocal.” I continue, “I believe they threw an American woman in jail for complaining about something.” He does not refute it. Only poor and rich - I personally think that it is horrible. So much money and who suffers? I wonder if we were headed that way in Canada? We need to stop that. There should be no poverty anywhere. There is no need for any child to be hungry anywhere. There is no need for anyone to suffer because they cannot get health care. I turn on the news this morning and see that there is “girl voice” or something like that being held in Toronto. The narrator says it is a difficult time for girls nowadays. I wonder why he thinks that? There are many opportunities now and I respect young people today. When I was young we were quite self absorbed. Teens nowadays start up their own organizations. Both boys and girls get involved with causes. I see a future that with education we can teach that it is wrong for someone to have no food and to feed them and teach them to learn how to resolve that. We can take a stand against bullies who think they can rule countries and cities and have them accountable for their actions. We can teach parents to not repeat the errors of their own parents but to provide a safe and loving environment for those who have the highest gift of bringing new people into the world to be the best that they can be. We can teach that rather to be divided by differences we can learn how to embrace each other. There is so much strength in unity. I wonder if what I learned in educational psychology is being utilized in the business world? We have a long way to go but we can get there with the right tools. I wish you all a wonderful day. I love life. It is precious. What do you think?