This big fella and his tiny wife comes in the store today talking in that distinctive Newfie accent and he asks if I have any books on whales and I reply ‘no but when are you folks going to stop killing those baby seals then?’ (I don’t really care about the seals but I figured the question would break the ice). He says ‘they’re not babies, we don’t kill babies. They’re cubs. We club cubs.’ Ah, I said, and it’s euphonic too.
He ignores this and asks me if I have any prints of whales. I do, I say. But are they old prints he asks. Oh yes, I say with my best newfie accent, I have verra olde prints. Abbut 1750 they is, I say. He looks at me funny and says that’s all very good, but are they Newfoundlander whales? Well how the hell would I know what nationality the whales are, so I say they’re Pacific whales and he says well NFLD is in the Atlantic don’t you know and I answer, is it now?
His wife starts making him big-eyes, you know, wife code for enough already so I try and smooth things over and I ask him, ‘so how’s the economy on the Rock then?’ Maybe that wasn’t the best tact because he answers that unemployment’s at 19% and the tuberculosis is killing those too weakened by eating Raman noodles 3 times a day to look for fish that ain’t there no more no how.
Ha, I say, you think you have it bad, just look at that roundish building out there (I point to the curling club), that’s a soup kitchen, I say a little untruthfully, we’re suffering here too but we don’t complain about it all the time. They look over to the curling club and he whispers a soup kitchen can you believe it and I say yeah and it’s not even real soup it’s just tap water with food coloring added so don’t talk to me about suffering. They glanced sadly at the curling club as they left and I thought, I won that one not that I care about winning of course.
Newfoundland is another planet. It is known as "Terra Nova" in the local parlance. Canada is the primary moon of Newfoundland (there are others, such as St. Pierre & Miquelon). It is known as "Bossa Nova" in the local parlance. Canada circumperambulates through the sky of Newfoundland 16 times per year, and on clear nights the provinces can be identified, much like the constellations.
ReplyDeleteNewfoundlanders wear Runcible hats and go out to sea in rickshaws.
They also drink an abominable conconction of maple syrup and rum known simply as "screech". Also I have it on good authority that there exist a number of Newfoundland rituals in which one must kiss a fish.
ReplyDeleteBut then conversely, just imagine how strange they must find us?