Charivarious

I've wanted to post on the experience of living, for almost exactly a year, in Montréal, and last week the "new life" became not only newer, but noisier.

The continuing student strike is a feature of daily life. Initially concerned with a graduated increase in tuition fees, the protests have now been joined by non-students and those who have other issues with the government.  

If interested in "What the hell is going on in Quebec?", Cory Doctorow's article published on BoingBoing gives a good snapshot.

On May 18, the government of Quebec passed an emergency law, Bill 78, that restricts organized public rallies, among several other aspects. The law, with its implications for civil liberties, upset many more people.

The protesters then borrowed a tactic used in Latin America since the '70s, cazerolazo, literally, "stew pot action". It is a form of protest initiated by women in Argentina against the military dictatorship of the 1970's and 1980's which murdered and "disappeared" numerous people, and in Chile to protest shortages, among other grievances.
 
Nightly street-filling marches of clanging cacophony, on the stroke of 8 pm. for every evening since the law's passage last week, in both downtown and neighbourhoods, signal disapproval through disobedience of the new law. (Legal challenges to the bill are underway as well.)

All ages march and at least where I live, the protests are peaceable. Below, son Etienne "casseroles" from our balcony. (He was a dinner guest.)

Listen a few moments; this video was shot nearby:

There's also a tradition in New Brunswick called le tintamarre, which dates back to the mid-'50s, when the Archbishop of Moncton encouraged Acadians to make noise for several minutes with whistles, bells, car horns, toys and pots at an event commemorating the 200th anniversary of the Expulsion of the Acadians, to remind the authorities of their presence. The present-day tintamarre is usually practiced on August 15 on National Acadian Day in proud celebration of their heritage.

Another guest, our friend Alyson, recalled that the tactic was used by women even further back, in France, Italy and other European countries centuries ago, and known as a shivaree or charivari. They would stand outside the house of an abusive man and clang to protest his behaviour (among other acts that drew the community's disapproval). 

Remember the custom of tying tin cans to a newlywed's car? A variant of the shivaree.

 

That was also the name of the famous now-closed New York boutique (later in several locations). Charivari made its big noise by vacuuming my wallet regularly in the late '70s to early '80s. Then I had a family and would no longer mortgage myself for a jacket. (Photo from Jessica Gold's blog Truth Plus, which features a history of the Charivari boutiques.)

Yes, I've segued from the political to the superficial. I discuss the strike every day, sometimes for hours, and don't intend to debate the issues here, as well.  

The dissent will, I hope, enable more lasting change than that carried on the evening air. As Molly Ivins said, "The thing about democracy, beloveds, is that it is not neat, orderly, or quiet. It requires a certain relish for confusion."