Carolina to Quebec. Since Thursday. And this afternoon, she left for Ottawa. A few days hence, secrets, stories anecdotes, avowed fears, laughter strangled. It feels good, it relieves.
few visits, q
ome walks, visit the Parliament, a skating sequence. It is mainly being both, a few moments to remember in France, our band of friends, talk about each of them to speculate on what they are experiencing at this moment beyond the "big pool". What do they do without us? What do they live, that we miss? We ponctuons by all the funny comments, sometimes scabrous. Caroline, this girl is funny, very funny, sometimes with a sensitivity all on edge. It is this pen at the Night of Writing from the University Laval in which we participate Friday night, appears in a new light for me: romantic affirmed tends caustic. And these always laughter, always the voice of idiots we are taking together. Monism. 
be with Carolina also allows me to see how a person I know operates in the same environment as me, though slightly different, because people speak English, and it is not Administration of Quebec, but Ontario, another federal province in Canada. And I realize how I am built. I had already sensed in Carolina, that despite the pleasure of discovery, Ottawa was not what she expected. To this compounded by the lack of Felicien, her boyfriend, who lives in Sherbrooke, four hours drive from the capital. In retrospect, apart from low morale post-Montreal, I never really depressed, and I confess myself even melted in the Quebec town. Carolina, she tells me that for now, she can not really fully appreciate life in its entirety. Hence the interest of these few days in Quebec, allowing it to change the landscape, the better to return to Ottawa I hope ... 
We decide to visit the Parliament of Quebec. There a point of history and politics is needed. Quebec in 1762 following the Treaty of Paris and three years after the Battle of the Plains of Abraham, became Province of Quebec, British colony. Then, after many hesitations, blah blah blah, the mid-nineteenth century, has created Canada, a federal state which governs a dozen of provinces, including Quebec, said provinces each with its own parliament, laws, their government. Characteristic of a federal state, what! Quebec is the capital of the Province of Quebec, and in this city that the parliament is built. It is within this building that meets members for the discussion sessions, such as they know in France. Basically, in short, especially because I do not know what else to say! So visit the Parliament. We meet with a group of assistants from a member (of the Township of Terrebonne) which is also now complete and the speech of the guide, nice young woman who will give us time to take pictures and enter the Chamber of Deputies in full debate. Entry elsewhere in this room, the Blue Room and in the Legislative Council Chamber (Red House). 
Today Sunday, we remain quiet. The previous evening, we went to Arches of Napoleon, a coffee house not far from home. By dint of beer and sangria, some donated by an evening meeting, we déchainons on songs that sometimes we recognize. A loud, I sing M'en going to the fountain, while Caroline whistles and drinks. On returning, she collapsed, exhausted on the porch of the house. Packets, we take pictures and go to bed, tired. Thus, we do not move far from home, except for a few minutes walk on the Plains. Then it's time to accompany Caroline Ste Foy for her carpool. It does not take much we loupions the car, which is already beginning to leave the park with parking. A kiss, then two, quick, before my pretty brunette does rushes into the car that brought her to Ottawa. 
the bus that takes me back home, I think back to what I was told Caroline about her experience. And like the chameleon comes to mind. I am a chameleon. I adapt, I melt into the background. New York, Quebec. I absorb what I see, what I hear, I'm like a stomach that eats everything in its path, which imbues them to live better in this environment. I like this part where I move, and where, past time to adapt, I feel at home. That's why after I made love Quebec, I could go to other horizons Always on the bus, I take time to observe the landscape. The houses, trees without leaves, and this blue sky and red sunset. He is 16h, but it is already nightfall. Night, then day. Tomorrow will be November 8. My birthday. A day where everyone will send me her prettiest thought of calling my parents on Skype a few words on Facebook balanced by knowledge. Gone are the 20 who served as my excuse! Gone is the golden age I become tomorrow a "real adult". The feeling of actually entering the decade of 20, more than last year. The impression he'll have to make choices this year than before ....
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