I think I've found my next big project...

A French hotel? Why not?

I’m eating lunch at a sidewalk café, enjoying some lovely sole, a glass of white wine, and admiring the Hotel Grand Cerf. This hotel was founded in mid-18th century, and survived until being permanently closed in 2007.

It’s one of those truly breathtaking buildings that seem to live around every corner in France, and I would dearly love to explore the interior.

I’m back in Alencon, in Normandy, on a very important trip. Today I was presented with my carte de séjour.

That little bit of plastic means that I can choose to live and work in France, access services like health care, and do so as a resident of France. In a few years I can take that privilege further and ask to become a citizen of the Republic.

I’m sure that any immigrant, anywhere, can understand this, but being handed that card made me smile broadly, and say over and over “Merci!” The bureaucrat that gave it to me smiled back, and welcomed me to France.

In these days of grave news, environmental disaster, and seemingly hopeless circumstances this card suddenly made me warm and happy, and filled me with hope.

I can’t really explain this, except to say that it feels utterly exceptional to have someone say “We welcome you to join us, and value what you will contribute.” We live in age when all seems negative, when social media especially exists to tear down people and destroy lives, and when our elected officials seem over and over to be ineffective and dishonest.

A small validation like this seems wonderful when day to day life leads to endless obstacles and excuses, and when even simple tasks seem to take up days and weeks.

France of course fits me to a T. The pace, the friendliness, the ease of life are all wonderful. It is mid-August. In a country that enjoys five weeks each year of vacations this means that many businesses are closed for much of the month.

That, however, just isn’t a big deal. The prevailing attitude is one of “I take five weeks off each year, and people work around my absence, so if you take five weeks off, I will also just deal with it.”

I looked that up yesterday because someone on Twitter had expressed amazement that in Nova Scotia the vacation entitlement is only two weeks.

I’ve said before that the people of Nova Scotia are in many ways like the French. The willingness to stop and just chat, the patience when things take longer than planned, and the mostly rural population all resemble what you find in France. Given that Nova Scotia has a strong French history - les Acadiens - that makes sense.

What though, I imagine, would the province that is home be like if they adopted the things that make France so appealing: the vacations, the health care plans that include drugs, dental care, and eyewear, the government support for newspapers and local media? What would happen if the Nova Scotia government stepped up and told supermarkets that prices had to be brought down, despite it lowering corporate profits?

What if Nova Scotia adopted the practice of everyone stopping work each day spending 12:30 to 2pm relaxing over a leisurely lunch?

None of these are impossible. Each of them represents a choice that the government of France chose to take. We could do the same in Canada if we had some leaders with courage and political vision - or who had at least lived somewhere outside of North America at some point in their lives.