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Early up, breakfast at the hotel restaurant, and we are
off. We are very hopeful that we would
have lovely weather today as we venture into Acadian country. You may need a little refresher about who
were the Acandians. So here it is:
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Acadians were French settlers who left France, not for
religious reasons (they all were Catholic) but because they refused to fight in
the King’s wars.
They settled in the
French New World in the 1600s.
Their
primary settlements were in Nova Scotia but some were on Prince Edward Island
and New Brunswick.
Here they built farms
on land they reclaimed from swamps, bogs, and the shores.
They had good relations with the native
people because they did not compete for game or interfere with tribal
activities.
Enjoying the peace, they
were fruitful and multiplied.
Things
were good until the British invaded the area.
The Acadians tried to be neutral as the British tried to expand their
territory.
The British leaders did not
trust the French-speaking Acadians.
When
some Acadians were forced to fight for the French forces, the British had had
enough.
The governor decided the
Acadians had to leave.
They were rounded
up and forced onto ships while their homes and farms were burned to ensure they
would not return.
It took years but
nearly all of the Acadians were forced out before the order was ended seven
years later.
Some Acadians went back to
France, others were distributed throughout the American colonies, and some went
to Louisiana. (Those who stayed In Louisiana are known as Cajuns, still claiming their
Acadian roots.)
This was a terribly
traumatic cultural experience for the Acadians.
The British thought the Acadians would assimilate into the
communities to which they were sent but they did not. For all, they longed to return home. For some, they immediately set out for home
once the order was lifted. As soon as
word reached the community that had relocated to Boston, 800 immediately began
to walk the 1000 miles back to their home. Others found ways to return from
their dispersed locations. The British would not let them all return to their
previous homes which had been taken over by British settlers. The returning Acadians found new homes
throughout the former areas.
The plight of the Acadians was highlighted in Longfellow’s
epic poem, Evangeline. It was through
this poem that both Patti and Dick had first learned about the Acadians. We found out that Acadians were not initially
considered citizens when Canada became a nation in 1867. Although Acadians now are citizens, many
identify first as Acadians living in Canada rather than as Canadians. They have a national flag. It looks like the French flag with a gold
star in the blue panel.
So our initial experience was to be a visit to Acadian
Historical Village near Craquet, New Brunswick.
It is a living history museum, one of our most favorite types of places
to visit. Living history museums often
gather old buildings from disparate places unto a collective site, and then
populate many of the buildings with costumed interpreters. This place did exactly that. So how did it stack up with other living
history places we have been to? It was
one of the best that we have visited, and we have seen some stunning ones.
And what were our favorite experiences? The interpretive staff was not only highly knowledgeable,
but very personally welcoming and appreciate that we cam to visit. The seemed to really appreciate that we were
interested in learning about their culture and the historical practices. People generously talked about what they were
cooking (simple, but delicious food!!) or what types of tasks on the farm that
they were involved in. this included making wooden shingles, hand dying wool, blacksmithing,
grinding grain, making rope, weaving fishnets, caring for animals and carrying
water. The conversations were interesting and filled with such a wealth of
information. Some things we were very familiar
with, and others were entirely new to us.
This is farming very far north (really different than growing things in
San Diego) And some things even very
different than growing things in Ohio or Minnesota where we grew up. It is
really interesting learning about how they do things in another country. I love that!
Besides the normal fun conversations we had, there were a
couple that stuck out for us as especially touching. The first:
One of the women was an actor in a short drama (all in French) about a midwife being called to help with the birth of a baby. We were
able to mostly follow the story about a young worried father, and the
successful birth of his first child.
Quite a sweet little story. The
main woman actor stayed afterword to answer questions that we might have had.
We had a number of them. Once we got
through understanding the play and questions about childbirth, she shifted into telling us the story of her
people. She was both highly knowledgeable
in names and dates and important activities, but also so passionate in her
caring about it and telling us the story.
She was clear that it meant a lot to her that people came, as she said
“to a little village out in the middle of nowhere” to learn about the Acadian
people.
She also shared about a 94 year
old woman from Louisana, a Cajun woman, who came as a pilgrimage to honor her
ancestor who had been a leader during the time of the deportations, and had
moved to Louisiana. Although this woman
spoke no French, she still considered herself Acandian and had to come home. The woman telling us the story said she felt this was proof that
although mighty oak trees were uprooted and replanted someplace else, they did
not become birch trees. They were still oak trees, still Acadians. As she was telling this, we both had tears in
our eyes, from listening to such deep felt emotion. She said that that all the Acadians wanted
was to live in peace and not go to war anymore with anybody, and to welcome
everyone. Powerful!
The other really moving encounter was with a woman whose was
doing the interpretation for a house that had been in her own family. Her great, great uncle’s house, who had been
an Acardian fisherman. She had being providing interpretation for 22
seasons at the village, and for 11 years in her family’s home.
It brought up the thought about Dick’s own family farm being
an example of many family farms, and what it would have been like if that farm house
and buildings had been preserved and moved to a facility like this were it
would have been protected and part of living history. And if that had happened, what it would have
been like to guide guests/visitors through it with both the general knowledge
of such homes and life in them, as well as sprinkling them with stories of our actual
family, as this woman was doing. (The
Weaver family farm complex was demolished to make way for a warehouse, sadly)
Acadians were masterful at the art of reclaiming marsh land
and the sea, as stable farmland,
much as
we think of the Dutch doing this.
They
had ingenious ways of doing this.
We stayed for five hours and still had to cut our visit
shorter than we would have liked, knowing there was so much more to see and
people to talk with, but we still would have 5 ½ hours of driving yet to do to
get us to our next destination: Prince Edwards Island.
To get to the island meant driving over a bridge that was
nearly 8 miles long across the Northumberland Strait. It was actually quite a lovely bridge curving
across the water and up-and-over the main channel.
Once on the island we had another 45 minute drive to
Charlottetown, capitol of the province and its largest city. We were driving through more gentle rolling
farm land. We also began to see fields
of potatoes, the big dark green leaves distinguishing them from other crops.
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But, it was getting late and we were quickly off to find
food. First, we were struck by the
setting sun turning all of the buildings into brilliant gold. St. Dunstan's Basilica was especially lovely.
We had only a five block walk to the center of town where
the pedestrian street was filled with music and people. We were surprised since it was a Monday
evening. We walked a little further
where we found a restaurant that was serving Lobster Burritos. We took them back to the music, where we
relaxed and enjoyed the novel food.
While we ate, Dick noticed what he thought was a little free
library. Patti was sure it wasn’t, but
it was. We didn’t know they had them in Canada but here was the evidence that
they did. Patti found a book for her to read.
We took the newly found book and walked a couple blocks to
the harbor. There we found a great ice
cream shop, COWS. We discovered that its
great reputation is well deserved.
Finally, we called it a night and returned to our B&B.
