There’s a certain amount of envy I feel for those who’ve been to far off places all over the world. When they return and post their photos on Facebook or Flickr, it’s there that I get glimpses of what it’s like outside these borders. I’ve lived a very lucky life, had opportunities that a lot of others have not, but until last fall, I’d never left the continental United States.

For the most part, I never really had any desire to leave the United States as a kid. It wasn’t something we planned on doing as a family, and instead my parents opted to go overseas to see what they wanted, because of my and my brother’s indifference. Only in recent years have I had any desire to leave the states to see the world.

The first real opportunity to go anywhere came last September. I went to visit a friend of mine in a gorgeous area of upstate New York in a town called Potsdam where she went to school. Farms stretch for miles. It makes you wonder when you hear that America’s farms are disappearing. Not up there. It’s all unblemished.

My friend Kim (not my girlfriend Kim, but Kim Harrison, obviate contributor) explained to me that we were about an hour to the U.S.- Canadian border and about two hours away from Montreal, Quebec. After a little bit of goading, she agreed to drive us up there for the afternoon. Needless to say, I was pumped. It was the first time I’d leave the states.

Let me state that I have this weird obsession with border crossings. I’ve spent hours on Wikipedia reading this article. There’s something thrilling about crossing an imaginary line that divides one place to another that I find completely fascinating. As a nine-year-old visiting Four Corners in 1995, I was thrilled that I could be in FOUR STATES AT ONCE, and took my time hopping from one state to another before my parents ushered me off.

For border crossing enthusiasts as myself, this is porn.

The U.S. – Canadian border is the ultimate manifestation of my preoccupation with border crossings in North America, because it’s so close, and Mexico is very, very far away. It’s really either that one, or the fact that you have to enter Delaware for twenty minutes to get to New York City traveling up from Baltimore. That one rules too.

Many jokes are made about Canada’s apparently lack of definition as a foreign country. Most of the time you’ll hear about how Canadians say “Eh?” and “Aboot”, or how they drink milk out of bags. (Actually, I learned that one today.)

Perhaps some of these things are true, but in my experience, that really wasn’t the case. Montreal was very different from America.

As we pulled up to the Canadian border, I handed over my birth certificate and Driver’s License (I didn’t have my passport yet) and was amazed how the guard just looked at it, told us to enjoy ourselves, and let us in. As we drove into Quebec, it hit me that for the first time in my life, I wasn’t in my country anymore. It’s weird. I was no longer in the place of my birth. I was just a guest. As miles and English turned to kilometers and French, I felt for the first time I wasn’t home. As a kid, it’s drilled in your head that the United States is the greatest country in the world (it is), but you’re never told that there’s other places in the world that are fantastic too. Obviously, It was a bit of a culture shock.

I immediately took out my camera and took a video. Excuse my fat head, gibberish about the Expos and the 1976 Olympics.

Quebec is striking because it’s just nothing for miles and miles and it’s beautiful and totally undisturbed. Kim and I stopped at a vegetable and fruit stand where I scribbled this note in my journal.

September 20, 2008, 8:53 AM

I’m in a town outside of Montreal buying plums. It was cute. Kim spoke French to the lady. They had a port-o-potty. Congratulations Canada, Brendan Hilliard just soiled your land.

Darling, right? Those plums made me gag. No bueno. Or should I say “Pas Bon”?”

As you’re driving, it’s as almost the city just kind of pops out of nowhere. I tried to retain as much as I went along. There was a familiar red octagonal sign saying “Arrêt” instead of “Stop”, gas stations that said “Petro-Canada” and a humorously titled shop called “HIGH TIMES”.

The city itself is fantastic. From what I saw, it’s a mixture of modern and classic architecture, winding streets, shops with crazy nicknacks and funny names – a store devoted to selling condoms and another pot themed store: Weedstock. There were PLENTY of record stores. We counted five on one block.

We ate at this little restaurant called “FRITE ALORS!” with a server that pretty much spoke nothing but French. I was terrified to order lunch, and even more concerned how to pay for it, being that I didn’t have any Canadian currency. I managed to order a ham sandwich with a slice of tomato which wasn’t at all appetizing. My stomach initially turned with Kim’s order of the Quebecois specialty poutine, and despite my fear of cheese curds, I tried it. It was quite good. I’ll go for my own order next time. Oh, thankfully were able to pay with our debit cards. Crisis averted.

No piece of art was ever truer.

I’ll spare you the minute details of the trip. That’s what the photo gallery is for. We only spent a half day there due to a show to attend in Potsdam that evening, but it was well worth it. It was just enough time to soak up the atmosphere of Montreal.

Montreal, or the country of Canada for that matter may not be the most exotic place in the world, but after 22 years going nowhere outside the border, it very much was for me. I feel very grateful that I got to go, and it was an experience that I look back on fondly.

I’ll remember it as something else, too.

The day my perspective really changed for the first time.

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You can view the photo gallery of my day trip to Montreal here, if you didn’t get that subtle little link above. Ha!

Tags: canada, cool sculpture, montreal, new perspective, poutine, travel, why border crossings rule

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 29th, 2009 at 10:11 pm and is filed under Outside the Midwest. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.