,
“It’s not about the money, money, money. We don’t need your money, money, money. We just wanna make the world dance. Forget about the price tag.”
Oh Jessie J. My free-spirited hippie-heart wants so much to believe the words of your hypocritical but well-meaning and catchy song.
In the beginning, this was just about choosing where to live. A simple decision for some. A complex brain-tangling web of infinite options for others. This seemingly straight-forward but important life choice is now leading me to question more deeply – my parenting methods, my political views, my sanity. For now, the only conclusions I’ve been able to muster, is that it’s probably best to blog about it, and place the onus on an impartial third party. …Hi!
Yes, you – dear reader, wherever you’re from, wherever you are – will be asked to vote for one of two destinations. Whittling it down to two has taken several years -- but since Brexit swiftly amputated the European arm of our future dreams, Canadian possibilities were all we had to realistically filter.
Having scoured maps, poured through photographs, analyzed statistics, chatted to locals, applied for jobs and read endless articles, forums and blogs – considering everywhere from Yellowknife in the Northwest Territories to St. John’s in Newfoundland, from secluded coastal hamlets en-route to Alaska, to big grey cities with enormous spaghetti highways, the beautiful and serene, the obnoxious and busy, the familiar, the unknown, the mundane and the bizarre – We spent so much time thinking outside the box – we still don’t have an answer – and now we’ve lost the box.
…Since we met, in that small, sticky bar on the outskirts of Quebec City at the end of 2010, Guillaume and I have lived together in 12 different locations (excluding our collective 18 months of world travel). We’re always on the hunt – ultimately, for a lifestyle that enables significantly more play and necessitates considerably less work. With optimism and positivity, we would firmly decide what we wanted to do and leave the how’s ‘til later. It was exciting, it was interesting, it was addictive, and we were bloody good at it. It worked.
Until now.
Now we have a two-year-old son. He was made in Bali, visited the Philippines, Vancouver and Kamloops in utero, was born in Edmonton, endured a 15-day cross-continental road-trip to spend six months over winter in the woods of Montpellier, before moving to a temporary rental on Quebec City’s picturesque rue d’Auteuil and later to an apartment behind the world’s most photographed hotel – Fairmont le Chateau Frontenac. He’s visited England twice, attended two daycares, and is being raised by a British mother in a subtly prejudiced francophone province. (Before you call social services, you should also know that he’s *almost* vegan…)
Responsibilities. They were thrust upon us whence ejected from my vagina on Friday 13th November 2015, and seem to have increased simultaneously as Harrison grows up all too rapidly. We want to be settled before he starts school. This is the new goal. The present hope. The arguably impossible lofty ambition, given our altogether unsettled reputation. …We have three years.
So, the current candidates for “home” are (in no particular order) Quebec and Alberta. Our global whittling lead us to shortlist these two precise Canadian provinces. …Precision, however, is subjective. Quebec is larger than Peru, and Alberta is more than twice the size of Poland.
I’ll elaborate on a few of the pros and cons…
QUEBEC
We’re already living in Quebec – which would make moving ourselves, furniture and belongings a whole lot easier. And cheaper. Moving from one province of Canada to another isn’t like hopping over to a different county in the UK… you need to apply for new health cards, your car has to undergo an out-of-province inspection and be registered with a new license plate, you need a new mobile phone number – perhaps a new provider and it’s a costly affair when you factor in the distance. This is the world’s second biggest country. It’s 3,839.3km from Quebec City to Calgary – 39 continuous hours of driving, or an outrageously expensive four-hour flight.
Quebec is stunning. And there’s so much to do. The city put on events and festivals at least every weekend throughout summer. They decorate the place according to the season. It’s kid friendly, it’s busy, it’s fun - and tourists flock here to meander the cobble-stone streets of this atmospheric, ancient walled city.
JOBS
We have jobs here in Quebec. Fairly good jobs that place us (supposedly) comfortably within the higher bracket of the middle-class. Guillaume is a full-time surveyor, managing the lay-out of multiple sites around the city. Projects he’s working on range from listed theatre renovations to the $1.8 billion construction of a new 12-storey hospital and cancer-treatment centre – a complex multi-structure development that won’t be finished until 2023. He analyzes architect blue-prints and delivers drawings. He tells people where to put stuff – stuff being steel beams and concrete slabs, supporting pillars, elevator shafts, stair cases, doorways… He has a lot of accountability.
I’ve been working freelance since October 3rd. Having succumbed to the stereotype of an anglophone in Quebec, I am now teaching English as a second language, three days a week at Olympus NDT. They’re a global company with head offices in Japan. You may know them best for their cameras – but they create all kinds of leading edge non destructive technologies. They’re scientists, technicians, mechanics, inventors.
I previously worked in creative events for a company called JPdL in the old port area of touristic vieux-Quebec. Catering mostly to US clients, JPdL designs and project manages unique incentive trips for those big American businesses that want to reward their dedicated staff with 5* luxury treatment for a few days or a week. As fun as it was, the pay was painful, the hours were long and the occasionally glutinous and entitled nature of clientele and our mandate to meet those needs often tugged at my morals and made me a bit nauseous. Do I want to arrange for 54 people in tuxedo’s, gowns, fur coats and crowns to journey by horse and carriage to a venue a mere three minutes’ walk away? No. What I want is for those horses to gallop freely across a field and for those millionaires to acknowledge that I am sleep deprived, sweaty, have worked a 16-hour day and can’t afford rent.
Not exaggerating. (Maybe the crowns – but that’s it.)
By taking on the freelance job, owed to the increase in hourly rate and tax benefits for the self-employed, I now bring home more per month on a three-day week than I did at JPdL on a five-day week. But I have to watch my earnings. If I make any more, I tip myself over the poverty line and have to pay unrealistic sums of tax. To have a tiny bit more in my pocket, I need to increase my current income by at least 20%... To have a lot more in my pocket, I’d have to more than double it.
You might assume that a couple like us would be doing alright financially. That there’d be something horrendously wrong with the system if we weren’t. But actually, we’re scraping by. Once our savings dwindled, we weren’t able to make rent. We had to borrow, or ask family for help for the past three months. A situation we never faced in Alberta.
So, what’s going on? Why are we bringing home less than half the money we were making in Alberta?
TAX.
Income tax in Alberta appears on your pay slip like a smiley wink. “Don’t worry. We gotcha,” they say. They’re so low, you almost don’t notice them. Provincial sales tax is quite literally nonexistent in Alberta. In Quebec, it’s a whopping 9.975%. Defensive Quebecers keen to believe they’re not being taken for moose-shaped mugs will tell you “but everything’s cheaper here” – it’s simply not true…
Right now, Guillaume brings home less than 45% of his total pay. He’s the one with the big job. The bread-winner, the impressive income. And here in Quebec City he brings home less than $3,000 a month. Construction is unionized, so the hourly rates are set and are significantly higher than in other industries. Quebec salaries are notoriously low, but in construction they’re good – very similar in fact to the hourly rate in Alberta. However, the union does not recognize experience gained in other provinces. Guillaume should be a Level 2 surveyor – after all he has worked on the extension of Calgary’s international airport, high-rise buildings in both Calgary and Edmonton’s downtown cores, including the 66-floor Stantec Tower, and Rogers Place – the new NHL arena for the Oilers. But in order to achieve Level 2 pay, he needs to accumulate hours here in the province of Quebec.
RENT.
Right now, we pay $1135 for a two-bedroom apartment in a central, accessible and beautiful part of the city. We have two functional fire-places and all appliances were included. It’s got character. It’s charming. It’s cozy, unique, historic and ambient. With high ceilings, exposed brick walls, wooden floors, window shutters and chandeliers. It’s very much the type of home I hoped to live in here in Quebec City. We don’t have off-street parking and it’s illegal to park on our road – so we leave the car a few blocks away wherever we can find a space. The bathroom and kitchen could do with renovating, right now our oven doesn’t work, the dryer is broken and the hot water tank is in desperate need of servicing. But on the surface, it all looks magnificent.
Before we left Edmonton in September 2016, we were paying $1500 for a five-bedroom detached house with a garage and garden. It was close to downtown. Guillaume could cycle to work in less than 10 minutes. All appliances were included, and so was the water bill. It didn’t have much character (unless you count the ladybird infestation) and the area wasn’t pretty. There was no cute corner shop, or fancy boutiques, but I could walk to an enormous supermarket in under 12 minutes, and to a large shopping mall in less than 15.
In Calgary, we paid $1650 for a one-bedroom apartment just off of 17th ave. But this was in a sought-after heritage building with a 150-year-old bird-cage elevator. I once came home to find the Cohen brothers hanging out in the foyer, and a beret-wearing Martin Freeman fresh off-set was on his way to warm his cockles at our local café, Analog Coffee. Yep, they filmed Fargo scenes in our building – when we were living there.
Also in Calgary, we spent six months renting a fully furnished three-bedroom detached house in the North-East, for $1500 a month with all bills included. It had a workshop in the basement, a ping-pong table, a fenced garden with fire pit and came complete with an elderly black cat called Columbus.
Yes, it’s more expensive in Alberta – but not a ton. You have to pay a deposit in Alberta when you rent somewhere, equal to one months’ rent, but you can move at any time of the year. In Quebec, you don’t need to pay a deposit – landlords get screwed here – but you can only sign a lease on the 1st July for any given year. That’s when everyone moves. …Book your U-haul well in advance!
GROCERIES
We spend 20% more per week here in Quebec on groceries than we did in Alberta. We checked the old bank account. The type of food we buy is much the same. These days Harrison needs less formula and fewer diapers. We drink less booze and being vegan, don’t buy meat or fish. We’re not spending out on fancy veggie alternatives, (whatever anyone tells you, plant proteins are not pricey) and don’t buy as much organic produce as we should. But something is burning holes in our pockets and making us feel like we’re in Vegas being fleeced… Simply, stuff isn’t cheaper - and tax is a whole lot higher.
DAYCARE
Harrison recently started a new daycare which costs just $7.50 a day. This is one of the glorious benefits of living in Quebec. It’s a CPE, government funded, and brand new – in a renovated section of North America’s oldest nunnery. To say your son attended daycare in such a historic building is awesome enough, without even mentioning that we currently live within a 90 second walk of the front door.
Previously, Harrison had attended a daycare that cost $40 a day. They do exist in Quebec. Because, here’s the thing… Whatever you pay for your child’s daycare on a monthly basis – be it $800 a month or just $37.50 a week – at the end of the fiscal year when you’re asked to file your taxes, they’ll either give you a refund or ask for some cash. So, the financial relief of attending a CPE is contextual and momentary.
HOLIDAYS, VISITING ENGLAND, HAVING ANOTHER BABY, SAVING SOME MONEY & BUYING A HOUSE
Forget all of the above if we stay in Quebec City.
I have 19 students at Olympus, aged between 26 and 63. Those who have worked for the company for more than 20 years are finally receiving five weeks’ vacation. At the other end of the spectrum, they start with two weeks’ which they’re only entitled to after having worked for one full year. I ask them about their vacation plans – on average each student leaves or plans to leave the province of Quebec for a vacation just once every five years. They work for a big, successful company. On the Quebec scale of things – they make good money.
In order to own a home, many have built their own to save money, or have received help or inheritance from family. They all live in suburbs, and some spend more than three hours per day commuting.
They’re happy though. They don’t seem to have a desire for travel and adventure. They’re content with where they live and the lifestyles they have. They don’t need to go abroad to visit loved-ones and they’re probably not thinking about taking sabbatical years to explore more of the world. This makes me believe one of two things is happening. Either they absolutely love their lives just as they are - It’s all normal in Quebec, and they are proudly Quebecers, or they are in denial of their inability to do it.
But if these PhD wielding, hard-working, long-time earning, locals cannot afford these things after years of routine – How will we, a family including an outsider who despite efforts will never be fully bilingual and will always harbor that tell-tale foreign accent, ever get ahead?
Avoiding any illegal activity, our options are few…
- We could move to a less desirable area or a smaller place and save perhaps $200 a month. Rent is more affordable the farther afield you go. There’s some stunningly beautiful countryside around Quebec – beaches, mountains, riverside towns. But we’d have to find somewhere near a daycare with available space, close to public transport and not a ludicrous distance for Guillaume to commute into the city for work. And $200 a month? We’d need to spend most of it. Maybe we could save $40 a month that way. Only 56 months until we could afford for the three of us to take a return flight to England. (And what about all those unexpected expenses that could come up – like the car breaking down, or losing gloves (I always lose gloves!)).
- I could make my millions by writing Oscar-winning feature-film screenplays. In my mind, procrastination aside, this is our most realistic chance at being comfortable long-term in the province of Quebec. OUR. MOST. REALISTIC. CHANCE.
- We could sell Harrison for scientific experimentation. (Probably illegal.)
AND THEN THERE’S THE HEALTHCARE
This could be a blog in itself, but in short – Healthcare in Quebec is below par. There aren’t enough doctors. Which is interesting. Because when visiting the doctors with Harrison (after he had initiated himself at daycare by contracting all the new illnesses. Soaking up those new germs…) we did not encounter one medical staff – from the reception desk to the GP’s office – that was not only not Canadian, but not from Quebec City. White francophones. The lot of them. And the average wait time in A&E here? Five hours.
We never had need to see a doctor in Calgary but in Edmonton we saw plenty (what with me being preggers). My first doctor there was from the UK. A Londoner with Nigerian heritage and a cockney accent. My OBGYN, Priya Patel, was from India, and her assisting midwife when I gave birth was from Malaysia. When Guillaume had to have minor surgery on his foot, his doctor (and surgeon) was Moroccan. Harrison’s pediatrician was from Iran. All of them were bloody excellent. Wait times weren’t bad, and service was thorough and efficient.
In Quebec, it’s not just about the restrictions on foreigners that make it difficult. Because dedicated doctors jump through all the hoops to enable them to practice here. It’s the attitude generally. A Quebecer is a Quebecer is a Quebecer – and the rest of us can piss off!
Ironically, one of the reasons I had wanted to live in Quebec was because I believed it was a more liberal, culturally diverse, progressive province. The way they voted seemed to say so. But scratch the surface here and you’ll soon find closet racism is endemic. More and more Quebecers are crying out for independence. Canada Day is no big deal here. They don’t seem to embrace the magnitude of their country – they prefer to be a bit more insular. Whereas Alberta’s political right really only seem to be motivated by money… You can have zero qualifications, questionable legal status and have sailed there from a small town in Micronesia – they’ll welcome you with open arms if you’re able to assist with the turning of the money-making wheel.
IT’S OBVIOUS THEN ISN’T IT? GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE AND MOVE BACK TO ALBERTA!
Woah there! Before we left Alberta, we had decided how we felt about money. We said “it’s not everything.” We’re left-leaners. Justin Trudeau is more than just hot-totty and exquisite hair to us. We dream of equality and unity, not just within Canada but around the world. “The Scandinavians pay more tax, and apparently they’re the happiest people in the world!” … We hate Trump, we hate Brexit and we’re happy to be hippies with holes in our shoes…
…Sure, after just 18 months in Calgary we were able to afford a wedding and a gap year of globe-trotting, and still enjoy meals out and clothes shopping and trips to the mountains and occasional bottles of Moet champagne and a Playstation and a GoPro that we never use and as many pairs of gloves as our hearts desired… but did we celebrate Alberta for it? No. We berated its lack of soul, its masculine, conservative and misogynistic attitude, the culture void, and later - when I digested my true feelings about the environment and animal rights – Calgary stampede and the western love of all things oil and gas.
The cookie cutter suburbs, where every house is the same – just mirrored or a different colour. The nameless streets, simply numbered blocks arranged in uninteresting squares. The flat, flat landscape. The long winters that begin in September and don’t end ‘til May. The absence of a fall season. One day you’re in your shorts and t-shirt soaking up the sun with your factor 30 on, and the next day it’s snowing. The great empty distances between one place and another. The gargantuan pick-up trucks that appear to make up the majority of vehicles in the province. No villages with cozy, local pubs. The limited choice of park space (by comparison to Quebec.) The drab and average same-same scenery as you wonder out into the plains…
It was tough to be so far away from family and life-long friends all the time. No one to babysit. It could get lonely – especially in Edmonton when I wasn’t working. And the distance felt more real. The seven-hour time difference, the nine-hour flight – just to look at it on a map was a little bit terrifying. Moving East cut that distance to England almost in half.
Calgary is not a pretty city. Edmonton is just plain ugly. It’s not that safe. There are murders, and muggings and kidnappings and drug raids and a big homeless problem. I wouldn’t want to walk alone at night in Calgary or Edmonton – Quebec City, on the contrary, is a haven of safety.
CRIKEY, ALBERTA SOUNDS LIKE HELL. STAY AWAY!
It’s not though. We had fun there. Parties with good people. Family would visit and spend quality time – we could afford to pay for visitors to do things. We could afford to be excellent hosts. The sun is always shining in Alberta. The skies are always blue. It might not sound like much – but after a few months in rainy, grey Quebec – you begin to crave sunlight like a wilting flower.
And here’s the thing…
THE ROCKIES
Just saying their name fills my lungs with pure oxygen. Like a giant magnet of the globe, they lure us towards them as if we are attached by elastic. Is there anywhere quite so breathtaking on planet Earth? And it’s the way they make you feel – the mountains exude an energy that reminds you what life is all about. Towering over and around you in the sun or in the snow, the beauty, the crystal-clear air, the abundance of nature and the sheer size of these seemingly all-knowing giants penetrates your soul and they embed themselves into the core of your being. There you are Rockies. I know you’re not going anywhere…
Before we left Edmonton, we went to Banff “one last time”, to say bye-bye to our favourite place in the world. As soon as we entered the dramatic terrain of the National Park, we kicked ourselves a little bit. It’s so obvious that’s where we need to be. Every time we go there we feel that way. Every time we go there, we don’t want to leave.
As parents, of course we think about the future of our little one. Recently, when talking about schools in Canmore and Banff – we said “imagine if Harrison goes to school there. I feel like this will be the biggest gift we could ever give him. I will feel like we made it as parents.”
A beautiful place where we won’t have all our money taken away from us in taxes. Somewhere I can communicate in English – not just because it’s easy and it’s my native language but because I love it so much and I’m good at it! A land of adventure in a province of opportunity in a country that has the potential to lead the way for the world.
The Rockies are one hour from Calgary. Maybe we can’t live there right away. Maybe we need to make money in the city first. Maybe it’s commutable. Maybe Guillaume will one day have the opportunity to survey the rural landscape or position a new gondola or something… Maybe I will write my Oscar-winning screenplay nestled amongst conifers, somewhere within sight of a sparkling turquoise lake. Or maybe I’ll start a business, become involved in things I believe in locally. Maybe we’ll compromise and live in Cochrane.
Whenever I start to feel this way, Jim Morrison pops into my head, repeating his hypnotic words with such conviction; "the West is the BEST."
BUT THE OIL…
Canada has the worlds’ second largest oil reserves and most of it can be found in Alberta. That’s why the province is doing so well. Would it be going against my morals to benefit from the production of a substance which is ultimately one of the biggest contributors to global warming? Do we already do that just by driving a car? (Which per individual is much less environmentally damaging than eating animal products – but where do we draw the hypocrisy line?) Alberta would be a selfish choice. It would be for our family, disregarding our need to play our role in the bigger picture. We’d be taking advantage of the continued prosperity of a somewhat greedy part of the world… And that low tax rate that would wink at us on every pay slip would be tainted by the presence of the very thing that could ultimately destroy all that we love most about Alberta.
I guess we already did it – are our budget backpacking days, our wedding, our furniture, the financial ability to have Harrison – are they all tainted by that oil money? Haven’t we already played a part in contributing to the inevitable struggles of future generations? No matter where we live, or what we do – aren’t our choices merely an illusion anyway? Aren’t we all causing harm by some action or inaction? …And is any of that justification to knowingly doing so on what is almost certainly a grander scale?
We are extremely lucky to be living in Canada, and to have the things we have and be presented with such choices. Guillaume feels slightly foolish for ever leaving Alberta. He says we should imagine where we will be in five years if we stay in Quebec, and where we will be in five years if we return to Alberta...
- Every day, I lean more towards returning. Telling myself I will find a way to balance it all out somehow… Kind of like how Leonardo DiCaprio can get away with being an advocate for the environment despite flying around in private jets, because he ploughs millions into sustainability research and conservation, is the UN messenger of peace and his publicity and voice is heard so monumentally across the globe that his influence is invaluable – encouraging people to care, to eat less meat, to consume less dairy, to think about the planet – he’s doing more than balancing.
I always wondered why Justin Trudeau isn’t doing more to expedite innovation and reduce Canada’s oil and gas output – after all, like us – he has a more liberal stance on things generally. He cares about people and the planet. But I think I’m starting to understand his thought processes… Perhaps, ultimately, it’s easier to make a difference when you’re in a position to do so.
“It’s not about the money, money, money. We don’t need your money, money, money. We just wanna make the world dance. Forget about the price tag.”
Oh Jessie J. My free-spirited hippie-heart wants so much to believe the words of your hypocritical but well-meaning and catchy song.
In the beginning, this was just about choosing where to live. A simple decision for some. A complex brain-tangling web of infinite options for others. This seemingly straight-forward but important life choice is now leading me to question more deeply – my parenting methods, my political views, my sanity. For now, the only conclusions I’ve been able to muster, is that it’s probably best to blog about it, and place the onus on an impartial third party. …Hi!
Yes, you – dear reader, wherever you’re from, wherever you are – will be asked to vote for one of two destinations. Whittling it down to two has taken several years -- but since Brexit swiftly amputated the European arm of our future dreams, Canadian possibilities were all we had to realistically filter.
Having scoured maps, poured through photographs, analyzed statistics, chatted to locals, applied for jobs and read endless articles, forums and blogs – considering everywhere from Yellowknife in the Northwest Territories to St. John’s in Newfoundland, from secluded coastal hamlets en-route to Alaska, to big grey cities with enormous spaghetti highways, the beautiful and serene, the obnoxious and busy, the familiar, the unknown, the mundane and the bizarre – We spent so much time thinking outside the box – we still don’t have an answer – and now we’ve lost the box.
…Since we met, in that small, sticky bar on the outskirts of Quebec City at the end of 2010, Guillaume and I have lived together in 12 different locations (excluding our collective 18 months of world travel). We’re always on the hunt – ultimately, for a lifestyle that enables significantly more play and necessitates considerably less work. With optimism and positivity, we would firmly decide what we wanted to do and leave the how’s ‘til later. It was exciting, it was interesting, it was addictive, and we were bloody good at it. It worked.
Until now.
Now we have a two-year-old son. He was made in Bali, visited the Philippines, Vancouver and Kamloops in utero, was born in Edmonton, endured a 15-day cross-continental road-trip to spend six months over winter in the woods of Montpellier, before moving to a temporary rental on Quebec City’s picturesque rue d’Auteuil and later to an apartment behind the world’s most photographed hotel – Fairmont le Chateau Frontenac. He’s visited England twice, attended two daycares, and is being raised by a British mother in a subtly prejudiced francophone province. (Before you call social services, you should also know that he’s *almost* vegan…)
Responsibilities. They were thrust upon us whence ejected from my vagina on Friday 13th November 2015, and seem to have increased simultaneously as Harrison grows up all too rapidly. We want to be settled before he starts school. This is the new goal. The present hope. The arguably impossible lofty ambition, given our altogether unsettled reputation. …We have three years.
So, the current candidates for “home” are (in no particular order) Quebec and Alberta. Our global whittling lead us to shortlist these two precise Canadian provinces. …Precision, however, is subjective. Quebec is larger than Peru, and Alberta is more than twice the size of Poland.
I’ll elaborate on a few of the pros and cons…
QUEBEC
We’re already living in Quebec – which would make moving ourselves, furniture and belongings a whole lot easier. And cheaper. Moving from one province of Canada to another isn’t like hopping over to a different county in the UK… you need to apply for new health cards, your car has to undergo an out-of-province inspection and be registered with a new license plate, you need a new mobile phone number – perhaps a new provider and it’s a costly affair when you factor in the distance. This is the world’s second biggest country. It’s 3,839.3km from Quebec City to Calgary – 39 continuous hours of driving, or an outrageously expensive four-hour flight.
Quebec is stunning. And there’s so much to do. The city put on events and festivals at least every weekend throughout summer. They decorate the place according to the season. It’s kid friendly, it’s busy, it’s fun - and tourists flock here to meander the cobble-stone streets of this atmospheric, ancient walled city.
JOBS
We have jobs here in Quebec. Fairly good jobs that place us (supposedly) comfortably within the higher bracket of the middle-class. Guillaume is a full-time surveyor, managing the lay-out of multiple sites around the city. Projects he’s working on range from listed theatre renovations to the $1.8 billion construction of a new 12-storey hospital and cancer-treatment centre – a complex multi-structure development that won’t be finished until 2023. He analyzes architect blue-prints and delivers drawings. He tells people where to put stuff – stuff being steel beams and concrete slabs, supporting pillars, elevator shafts, stair cases, doorways… He has a lot of accountability.
I’ve been working freelance since October 3rd. Having succumbed to the stereotype of an anglophone in Quebec, I am now teaching English as a second language, three days a week at Olympus NDT. They’re a global company with head offices in Japan. You may know them best for their cameras – but they create all kinds of leading edge non destructive technologies. They’re scientists, technicians, mechanics, inventors.
I previously worked in creative events for a company called JPdL in the old port area of touristic vieux-Quebec. Catering mostly to US clients, JPdL designs and project manages unique incentive trips for those big American businesses that want to reward their dedicated staff with 5* luxury treatment for a few days or a week. As fun as it was, the pay was painful, the hours were long and the occasionally glutinous and entitled nature of clientele and our mandate to meet those needs often tugged at my morals and made me a bit nauseous. Do I want to arrange for 54 people in tuxedo’s, gowns, fur coats and crowns to journey by horse and carriage to a venue a mere three minutes’ walk away? No. What I want is for those horses to gallop freely across a field and for those millionaires to acknowledge that I am sleep deprived, sweaty, have worked a 16-hour day and can’t afford rent.
Not exaggerating. (Maybe the crowns – but that’s it.)
By taking on the freelance job, owed to the increase in hourly rate and tax benefits for the self-employed, I now bring home more per month on a three-day week than I did at JPdL on a five-day week. But I have to watch my earnings. If I make any more, I tip myself over the poverty line and have to pay unrealistic sums of tax. To have a tiny bit more in my pocket, I need to increase my current income by at least 20%... To have a lot more in my pocket, I’d have to more than double it.
You might assume that a couple like us would be doing alright financially. That there’d be something horrendously wrong with the system if we weren’t. But actually, we’re scraping by. Once our savings dwindled, we weren’t able to make rent. We had to borrow, or ask family for help for the past three months. A situation we never faced in Alberta.
So, what’s going on? Why are we bringing home less than half the money we were making in Alberta?
TAX.
Income tax in Alberta appears on your pay slip like a smiley wink. “Don’t worry. We gotcha,” they say. They’re so low, you almost don’t notice them. Provincial sales tax is quite literally nonexistent in Alberta. In Quebec, it’s a whopping 9.975%. Defensive Quebecers keen to believe they’re not being taken for moose-shaped mugs will tell you “but everything’s cheaper here” – it’s simply not true…
Right now, Guillaume brings home less than 45% of his total pay. He’s the one with the big job. The bread-winner, the impressive income. And here in Quebec City he brings home less than $3,000 a month. Construction is unionized, so the hourly rates are set and are significantly higher than in other industries. Quebec salaries are notoriously low, but in construction they’re good – very similar in fact to the hourly rate in Alberta. However, the union does not recognize experience gained in other provinces. Guillaume should be a Level 2 surveyor – after all he has worked on the extension of Calgary’s international airport, high-rise buildings in both Calgary and Edmonton’s downtown cores, including the 66-floor Stantec Tower, and Rogers Place – the new NHL arena for the Oilers. But in order to achieve Level 2 pay, he needs to accumulate hours here in the province of Quebec.
RENT.
Right now, we pay $1135 for a two-bedroom apartment in a central, accessible and beautiful part of the city. We have two functional fire-places and all appliances were included. It’s got character. It’s charming. It’s cozy, unique, historic and ambient. With high ceilings, exposed brick walls, wooden floors, window shutters and chandeliers. It’s very much the type of home I hoped to live in here in Quebec City. We don’t have off-street parking and it’s illegal to park on our road – so we leave the car a few blocks away wherever we can find a space. The bathroom and kitchen could do with renovating, right now our oven doesn’t work, the dryer is broken and the hot water tank is in desperate need of servicing. But on the surface, it all looks magnificent.
Before we left Edmonton in September 2016, we were paying $1500 for a five-bedroom detached house with a garage and garden. It was close to downtown. Guillaume could cycle to work in less than 10 minutes. All appliances were included, and so was the water bill. It didn’t have much character (unless you count the ladybird infestation) and the area wasn’t pretty. There was no cute corner shop, or fancy boutiques, but I could walk to an enormous supermarket in under 12 minutes, and to a large shopping mall in less than 15.
In Calgary, we paid $1650 for a one-bedroom apartment just off of 17th ave. But this was in a sought-after heritage building with a 150-year-old bird-cage elevator. I once came home to find the Cohen brothers hanging out in the foyer, and a beret-wearing Martin Freeman fresh off-set was on his way to warm his cockles at our local café, Analog Coffee. Yep, they filmed Fargo scenes in our building – when we were living there.
Also in Calgary, we spent six months renting a fully furnished three-bedroom detached house in the North-East, for $1500 a month with all bills included. It had a workshop in the basement, a ping-pong table, a fenced garden with fire pit and came complete with an elderly black cat called Columbus.
Yes, it’s more expensive in Alberta – but not a ton. You have to pay a deposit in Alberta when you rent somewhere, equal to one months’ rent, but you can move at any time of the year. In Quebec, you don’t need to pay a deposit – landlords get screwed here – but you can only sign a lease on the 1st July for any given year. That’s when everyone moves. …Book your U-haul well in advance!
GROCERIES
We spend 20% more per week here in Quebec on groceries than we did in Alberta. We checked the old bank account. The type of food we buy is much the same. These days Harrison needs less formula and fewer diapers. We drink less booze and being vegan, don’t buy meat or fish. We’re not spending out on fancy veggie alternatives, (whatever anyone tells you, plant proteins are not pricey) and don’t buy as much organic produce as we should. But something is burning holes in our pockets and making us feel like we’re in Vegas being fleeced… Simply, stuff isn’t cheaper - and tax is a whole lot higher.
DAYCARE
Harrison recently started a new daycare which costs just $7.50 a day. This is one of the glorious benefits of living in Quebec. It’s a CPE, government funded, and brand new – in a renovated section of North America’s oldest nunnery. To say your son attended daycare in such a historic building is awesome enough, without even mentioning that we currently live within a 90 second walk of the front door.
Previously, Harrison had attended a daycare that cost $40 a day. They do exist in Quebec. Because, here’s the thing… Whatever you pay for your child’s daycare on a monthly basis – be it $800 a month or just $37.50 a week – at the end of the fiscal year when you’re asked to file your taxes, they’ll either give you a refund or ask for some cash. So, the financial relief of attending a CPE is contextual and momentary.
HOLIDAYS, VISITING ENGLAND, HAVING ANOTHER BABY, SAVING SOME MONEY & BUYING A HOUSE
Forget all of the above if we stay in Quebec City.
I have 19 students at Olympus, aged between 26 and 63. Those who have worked for the company for more than 20 years are finally receiving five weeks’ vacation. At the other end of the spectrum, they start with two weeks’ which they’re only entitled to after having worked for one full year. I ask them about their vacation plans – on average each student leaves or plans to leave the province of Quebec for a vacation just once every five years. They work for a big, successful company. On the Quebec scale of things – they make good money.
In order to own a home, many have built their own to save money, or have received help or inheritance from family. They all live in suburbs, and some spend more than three hours per day commuting.
They’re happy though. They don’t seem to have a desire for travel and adventure. They’re content with where they live and the lifestyles they have. They don’t need to go abroad to visit loved-ones and they’re probably not thinking about taking sabbatical years to explore more of the world. This makes me believe one of two things is happening. Either they absolutely love their lives just as they are - It’s all normal in Quebec, and they are proudly Quebecers, or they are in denial of their inability to do it.
But if these PhD wielding, hard-working, long-time earning, locals cannot afford these things after years of routine – How will we, a family including an outsider who despite efforts will never be fully bilingual and will always harbor that tell-tale foreign accent, ever get ahead?
Avoiding any illegal activity, our options are few…
- We could move to a less desirable area or a smaller place and save perhaps $200 a month. Rent is more affordable the farther afield you go. There’s some stunningly beautiful countryside around Quebec – beaches, mountains, riverside towns. But we’d have to find somewhere near a daycare with available space, close to public transport and not a ludicrous distance for Guillaume to commute into the city for work. And $200 a month? We’d need to spend most of it. Maybe we could save $40 a month that way. Only 56 months until we could afford for the three of us to take a return flight to England. (And what about all those unexpected expenses that could come up – like the car breaking down, or losing gloves (I always lose gloves!)).
- I could make my millions by writing Oscar-winning feature-film screenplays. In my mind, procrastination aside, this is our most realistic chance at being comfortable long-term in the province of Quebec. OUR. MOST. REALISTIC. CHANCE.
- We could sell Harrison for scientific experimentation. (Probably illegal.)
AND THEN THERE’S THE HEALTHCARE
This could be a blog in itself, but in short – Healthcare in Quebec is below par. There aren’t enough doctors. Which is interesting. Because when visiting the doctors with Harrison (after he had initiated himself at daycare by contracting all the new illnesses. Soaking up those new germs…) we did not encounter one medical staff – from the reception desk to the GP’s office – that was not only not Canadian, but not from Quebec City. White francophones. The lot of them. And the average wait time in A&E here? Five hours.
We never had need to see a doctor in Calgary but in Edmonton we saw plenty (what with me being preggers). My first doctor there was from the UK. A Londoner with Nigerian heritage and a cockney accent. My OBGYN, Priya Patel, was from India, and her assisting midwife when I gave birth was from Malaysia. When Guillaume had to have minor surgery on his foot, his doctor (and surgeon) was Moroccan. Harrison’s pediatrician was from Iran. All of them were bloody excellent. Wait times weren’t bad, and service was thorough and efficient.
In Quebec, it’s not just about the restrictions on foreigners that make it difficult. Because dedicated doctors jump through all the hoops to enable them to practice here. It’s the attitude generally. A Quebecer is a Quebecer is a Quebecer – and the rest of us can piss off!
Ironically, one of the reasons I had wanted to live in Quebec was because I believed it was a more liberal, culturally diverse, progressive province. The way they voted seemed to say so. But scratch the surface here and you’ll soon find closet racism is endemic. More and more Quebecers are crying out for independence. Canada Day is no big deal here. They don’t seem to embrace the magnitude of their country – they prefer to be a bit more insular. Whereas Alberta’s political right really only seem to be motivated by money… You can have zero qualifications, questionable legal status and have sailed there from a small town in Micronesia – they’ll welcome you with open arms if you’re able to assist with the turning of the money-making wheel.
IT’S OBVIOUS THEN ISN’T IT? GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE AND MOVE BACK TO ALBERTA!
Woah there! Before we left Alberta, we had decided how we felt about money. We said “it’s not everything.” We’re left-leaners. Justin Trudeau is more than just hot-totty and exquisite hair to us. We dream of equality and unity, not just within Canada but around the world. “The Scandinavians pay more tax, and apparently they’re the happiest people in the world!” … We hate Trump, we hate Brexit and we’re happy to be hippies with holes in our shoes…
…Sure, after just 18 months in Calgary we were able to afford a wedding and a gap year of globe-trotting, and still enjoy meals out and clothes shopping and trips to the mountains and occasional bottles of Moet champagne and a Playstation and a GoPro that we never use and as many pairs of gloves as our hearts desired… but did we celebrate Alberta for it? No. We berated its lack of soul, its masculine, conservative and misogynistic attitude, the culture void, and later - when I digested my true feelings about the environment and animal rights – Calgary stampede and the western love of all things oil and gas.
The cookie cutter suburbs, where every house is the same – just mirrored or a different colour. The nameless streets, simply numbered blocks arranged in uninteresting squares. The flat, flat landscape. The long winters that begin in September and don’t end ‘til May. The absence of a fall season. One day you’re in your shorts and t-shirt soaking up the sun with your factor 30 on, and the next day it’s snowing. The great empty distances between one place and another. The gargantuan pick-up trucks that appear to make up the majority of vehicles in the province. No villages with cozy, local pubs. The limited choice of park space (by comparison to Quebec.) The drab and average same-same scenery as you wonder out into the plains…
It was tough to be so far away from family and life-long friends all the time. No one to babysit. It could get lonely – especially in Edmonton when I wasn’t working. And the distance felt more real. The seven-hour time difference, the nine-hour flight – just to look at it on a map was a little bit terrifying. Moving East cut that distance to England almost in half.
Calgary is not a pretty city. Edmonton is just plain ugly. It’s not that safe. There are murders, and muggings and kidnappings and drug raids and a big homeless problem. I wouldn’t want to walk alone at night in Calgary or Edmonton – Quebec City, on the contrary, is a haven of safety.
CRIKEY, ALBERTA SOUNDS LIKE HELL. STAY AWAY!
It’s not though. We had fun there. Parties with good people. Family would visit and spend quality time – we could afford to pay for visitors to do things. We could afford to be excellent hosts. The sun is always shining in Alberta. The skies are always blue. It might not sound like much – but after a few months in rainy, grey Quebec – you begin to crave sunlight like a wilting flower.
And here’s the thing…
THE ROCKIES
Just saying their name fills my lungs with pure oxygen. Like a giant magnet of the globe, they lure us towards them as if we are attached by elastic. Is there anywhere quite so breathtaking on planet Earth? And it’s the way they make you feel – the mountains exude an energy that reminds you what life is all about. Towering over and around you in the sun or in the snow, the beauty, the crystal-clear air, the abundance of nature and the sheer size of these seemingly all-knowing giants penetrates your soul and they embed themselves into the core of your being. There you are Rockies. I know you’re not going anywhere…
Before we left Edmonton, we went to Banff “one last time”, to say bye-bye to our favourite place in the world. As soon as we entered the dramatic terrain of the National Park, we kicked ourselves a little bit. It’s so obvious that’s where we need to be. Every time we go there we feel that way. Every time we go there, we don’t want to leave.
As parents, of course we think about the future of our little one. Recently, when talking about schools in Canmore and Banff – we said “imagine if Harrison goes to school there. I feel like this will be the biggest gift we could ever give him. I will feel like we made it as parents.”
A beautiful place where we won’t have all our money taken away from us in taxes. Somewhere I can communicate in English – not just because it’s easy and it’s my native language but because I love it so much and I’m good at it! A land of adventure in a province of opportunity in a country that has the potential to lead the way for the world.
The Rockies are one hour from Calgary. Maybe we can’t live there right away. Maybe we need to make money in the city first. Maybe it’s commutable. Maybe Guillaume will one day have the opportunity to survey the rural landscape or position a new gondola or something… Maybe I will write my Oscar-winning screenplay nestled amongst conifers, somewhere within sight of a sparkling turquoise lake. Or maybe I’ll start a business, become involved in things I believe in locally. Maybe we’ll compromise and live in Cochrane.
Whenever I start to feel this way, Jim Morrison pops into my head, repeating his hypnotic words with such conviction; "the West is the BEST."
BUT THE OIL…
Canada has the worlds’ second largest oil reserves and most of it can be found in Alberta. That’s why the province is doing so well. Would it be going against my morals to benefit from the production of a substance which is ultimately one of the biggest contributors to global warming? Do we already do that just by driving a car? (Which per individual is much less environmentally damaging than eating animal products – but where do we draw the hypocrisy line?) Alberta would be a selfish choice. It would be for our family, disregarding our need to play our role in the bigger picture. We’d be taking advantage of the continued prosperity of a somewhat greedy part of the world… And that low tax rate that would wink at us on every pay slip would be tainted by the presence of the very thing that could ultimately destroy all that we love most about Alberta.
I guess we already did it – are our budget backpacking days, our wedding, our furniture, the financial ability to have Harrison – are they all tainted by that oil money? Haven’t we already played a part in contributing to the inevitable struggles of future generations? No matter where we live, or what we do – aren’t our choices merely an illusion anyway? Aren’t we all causing harm by some action or inaction? …And is any of that justification to knowingly doing so on what is almost certainly a grander scale?
We are extremely lucky to be living in Canada, and to have the things we have and be presented with such choices. Guillaume feels slightly foolish for ever leaving Alberta. He says we should imagine where we will be in five years if we stay in Quebec, and where we will be in five years if we return to Alberta...
- Every day, I lean more towards returning. Telling myself I will find a way to balance it all out somehow… Kind of like how Leonardo DiCaprio can get away with being an advocate for the environment despite flying around in private jets, because he ploughs millions into sustainability research and conservation, is the UN messenger of peace and his publicity and voice is heard so monumentally across the globe that his influence is invaluable – encouraging people to care, to eat less meat, to consume less dairy, to think about the planet – he’s doing more than balancing.
I always wondered why Justin Trudeau isn’t doing more to expedite innovation and reduce Canada’s oil and gas output – after all, like us – he has a more liberal stance on things generally. He cares about people and the planet. But I think I’m starting to understand his thought processes… Perhaps, ultimately, it’s easier to make a difference when you’re in a position to do so.