#19 St. John River, NB: Nice to Have You Back

We've been trying to sample local cuisine as we move across Canada.  Our last meal in Quebec was poutine with an unrequested layer of peas on top.  Quebecois invented poutine so I guess they can decide how it should be served.  As we crossed into Nouveau Brunswick, French continued as the spoken language but there was a subtle change in culture.  

Following the St. John River we soon found an establishment that served up local fare.  Popeye's Louisiana Kitchen.  I sense some raised eyebrows from my readership so I feel I have to defend myself. 

French settlers started settling the Maritimes in the 1600's.    They called their home Acadia - paradise - and started happily turning marshland into farmland.  All was quite idyllic until the British took control.  The Brits felt like they couldn't trust the Acadians because that's the way England felt towards France in some far-off European conflict.  The solution?  Deport them.  Sounds a bit like current news from south of the border.  Many Acadians escaped into the woods or to Quebec, but the rest were treated like dogs (remember I said that), their houses burned and the people given one-way tickets to places like France or the American colonies.  In Louisiana, their name got morphed from Acadian to Cajun and they started cooking with fun spices.

Meanwhile, politics changed in their maritime homeland.  Acadians started appearing out of the woodwork to find all the best land now in English hands.  They humbly took what land they could find and became a people again - adopting a flag and a national anthem.  Today Acadians thrive in pockets all over the Maritimes, like along the St. John.

As we wound our way along that river, we munched on Cajun Fries.  We prayed that historical hatred and wounds would be cleansed and healed.  And, almost by accident, we had the privilege to participate in a small act of reconciliation.  You remember the dog comment earlier?  A half-grown black lab with zero street smarts ran in front of our motorhome and I had to stop in the middle of the road.  Petit Chien Noir just wanted to play so what could I do?  I called to Patty to move the RV to the shoulder, and I caught the wriggler by its bandana collar.  As the puppy and I pulled our way in different directions down the long driveway, an Acadian man came rushing toward us.  He was so thankful for my animal rescue program and I was so thankful for the chance to turn our prayers into a blessing.




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