(Acadian Flag image from Wikipedia)
How to begin…..? How about some family history. As most of you know, my maiden name is Breau. A good French Acadian name that gives telemarketers fits. My dad and I have been playing with our family tree for a few years and had consistently run into a dead end at my great-grandfather, Germain (Jeremiah,). When Dad found out that there was this thing called the “World Acadian Congress” that is held every five years and that the next one was planned for 2014 in northern Maine, New Brunswick and Quebec, he instantly invited me to go with him and see if we could meet some cousins to try to resolve this family mystery. And a trip was born.
We planned it all out, signed up for the Breau family luncheon and packed the rvs for a four day adventure. Now, if you have ever crossed the Canadian border you probably know that it isn’t really complicated. You need a passport. There are items you can and cannot bring with you. There is a little quiz by the border guards about where you are going, how long you plan to stay, and maybe the really tricky ones like, “Where are you from?” If you have ever tried to cross in a camper, you might know that you have to be careful about what foods are in your cupboards and refrigerator and how much alcohol you have on board.
So, that is the setup for part one of our adventure. We are about 6 miles outside of Van Buren where we have decided to cross when I remembered that we hadn’t cleaned the camper out after our last trip and that I may have some wine leftover. So I unbuckle from the seat and wander back to check-“just in case”. I open the refrigerator and there is one bottle of wine. Well under the one gallon I can bring legally. I check under the dinette seat. No wine. Lots of Gatorade, some water, all is good. UNTIL…..I notice the 5 lb. bag of potatoes. Let us just say that potatoes are on the list of no nos. What to do? “Just put them back,” says Glen. “They will never check.” So I do. For about one minute. After Glen notices my stress levels, he suggests a sensible plan. “For heavens sake, if you are going to worry about it, throw them out.” Yes, you read that right. So after asking if there are any cars near us I proceed to throw them out the window of the camper. Not one at a time as Glen envisioned, but the whole 5 lbs at once. (I was afraid of the empty bag being found in the trash) Somewhere there were happy crows that evening.
Phew…crisis averted, right? Well, kind of. We dig out the passports, and pull calmly up to the gate in the lane beside my parents’ rv and proceed to begin the discussion with the Canadian border guard. After explaining that we were traveling with my parents to a family reunion in Edmundston and would be staying for four days to enjoy the Acadian Congress the guard explains that he has to take our passports inside but he had us park here to avoid a sharp corner. He will return shortly he says.
In the meantime, another guard has been doing this same process with my parents and their fifth wheel. They decide to do a random search. (Or else my dad looked fishy) Now, here you need to know that my dad owns a handgun. He knew that he could not bring it to Canada so he locked it in my brother-in-law’s gun safe all safe and sound. However, the holster was stored empty in the fifth wheel. Guess what the border guard found on his random search? Uh huh. And when questioned about where the gun was, my dad calmly told him that he had given it to his son-in-law for safe keeping.
Now, Dad has three son-in-laws, but the border guards are of course unaware of this nifty fact and suddenly kick into energized mode. More guards appear from nowhere and are now on a full out hunt for this handgun that they are convinced is hidden in Dad’s fifth wheel first……and then they take a new interest in the “son-in-law” that is driving the rv next to him. We are blissfully unaware of any problem, and when the guard brings the holster to Glen’s window and asks him what this is, Glen has no clue. When it comes out that it is a holster (Glen thought it was a cupholder) he steadfastly declares it isn’t his and that he does not own a gun. The guard is still wanting to know where the gun is that belongs in the holster, and assuming Glen is the culprit keeping the gun for safe-keeping.
Next, we are informed that we are now subject to an inspection and would we please leave the rv. We do so. And now the cavalry comes out–in the form of a dog. A very beautiful black lab is sent to both rvs to sniff everything and make sure we have no gun. (Thank goodness we have no potatoes!) Cabinets are opened, the suspicious bag chairs and cast iron pots are removed from their cases and inspected. A very serious young guard asks once again if we are sure that they will not find a gun in the rv. And the line behind us begins to build. Sorry if you wanted to cross the border in Van Buren last Saturday!
The good news is that we were confident they would not find anything. That at least gave us comfort as we stood there looking like suspicious characters. Another interesting part was trying not to respond as Mom was commenting (probably louder than she realized and not as loud as it sounded to me) that they “were not very smart if they didn’t know there were lots of hiding places in those slideouts they were not opening.” Ayuh.
After Fido and his crew gave us the all clear, we were allowed to return to the rvs and continue on our journey. Yay! And the funniest thing to me is how we were talking before the trip about how friendly and easy it is to cross into Canada and how we only have trouble trying to get back into the US.
The campground was a welcome sight. We stayed at a small campground on the Iroquois River in Edmundston, NB. It was very muddy when we arrived as it had been raining for quite a while. The campground was pretty full, and many of the campers were displaying the Acadian Flag. We set up, drove into town to check directions to the site of the reunion scheduled for Sunday, got some bread at a neighborhood store, and enjoyed some beef stew in the campground for dinner. Day one complete.
Day two: The Breau reunion. We entered the church basement and were given some Breaux cajun seasoning from Louisiana. Good start! There were about 100 Breaus there, and lots of French being spoken. I am insanely jealous of all my bilingual cousins. I got about 1/3 of what you said in French, and the voice in my head even formed some responses, but my mouth just can’t spit them out. I need someone bilingual and ready to laugh with (or maybe at) me to relearn that lost French conversation.
Somehow I lost some of the photos from the actual reunion. But here is some Breau history to give you some idea of what we learned.
This reunion was celebrating the Breau family lines that all originated with Vincent Breau. He was one of the earliest settlers in Nova Scotia in the 1650s. Vincent had 12 children. My branch of the family tree is descended from his son, Jean. This son and his family were the one branch that was not deported during the Acadian resettlement. They lived on the coast of New Brunswick near Neguac, and rumor says they hid with the Native peoples of the area. (Micmacs?) I want to find more information about that part of our history!
Our nametags were all color coded to match the son of Vincent that we were descended from. So, Dad had fun finding cousins with orange dots on the tags. He met five sisters that all still live near Neguac and exchanged contact information with them. Dad remembers visiting that area as a young boy and it was fun to see the family resemblances in many faces.
We ate lunch, visited a bit with one of the organizers of the reunion who was from Louisiana, and heard two presentations about the history of the family and Acadians in general. We gathered in groups to show all the spellings of Breau that now exist since records were kept in many ways and were written by people that many times did not know French, and the people they were writing about were often illiterate. So we now have Breau, Bro, Brot, Braud, Breault, Breaux, Brow and Brough. But we are all descended from Vincent.The picture below is one group. I took more, but I think they ended up in cyberspace somewhere. Our spelling had the most representatives there.
I even won a door prize! I got this book about the history of Acadians. When I am done with it, I think I will donate it to our school library. It is really nice.
I purchased copies of the Breau genealogy books (so cousins, you can borrow) and learned that I am a member of the 11th generation. We found a few errors in our branch and will send those corrections to the author for future editions. He also plans to launch a website with all the information there. That should help in answering questions about family trees!
It was fun, and we are already thinking of attending the one in 2019. It will be held again in conjunction with the Acadian Congress, somewhere near Moncton or PEI. I would encourage anyone with Acadian roots to see if your family name is one of the 120 groups that planned reunions during the Congress.
We went out to dinner and Glen remembered that poutine is a great Acadian dish. French fries, gravy and cheese. What more could a guy want?
Day three is known as “Louisiana Day” in the brochure describing all the events of the Congress. We had been encouraged to attend by Dan Breaux the day before, and since we like Cajun music and food were really looking forward to it.
These events were not happening in Edmundston, but in Grand Sault (Grand Falls) about 25 miles away. We hopped in the car and headed out after eating breakfast in a small cafe that has only been open two weeks. Good food, slow service.
After arriving at the event site and waiting in a long line to pay admission, we realized we had missed the opening ceremony and the live music performance. So, we wandered about the expo to see what else we could find. Not much. It was a disappointment. If I had traveled from Louisiana to find my Acadian roots I would be really upset. The booths were more like information booths for tourists of the various areas. Maine, New Brunswick, Louisiana, Quebec, Nova Scotia…..trying to get you information on the area. One food vendor making jambalaya but selling it for $10 a bowl. You could take a helicopter ride, slide on a tiny zip line or play on an inflatable slide. We walked around a bit and then headed back to Edmundston for a livelier event.
On the way back we decided to find the waterfall and see if it was really grand. It was, but would have been even better without the dam just above it.
Next up….the most entertaining event of the weekend (other than the customs stop). Ployes!!!!!
Ployes are a thin, buckwheat pancake. They are usually eaten with creton (pork spread), or butter and brown sugar, or with stew. One of the events of the festival was to create the world’s largest ploye. We entered the park, enjoyed a ploye with brown sugar, and waited for the fun to begin. While the griddle was heating up over the coals, there were singers, stilt walkers, and a beer tent.
Glen tried the local brew.
Mom and Dad in line for ployes.
And now for the grand event……the giant ploye. The griddle was a piece of art in itself. It could move on rails over a huge bed of coals. It could be raised and lowered, and the workers were even measuring the heat coming off it with a heat gun. Add in five-gallon buckets of ploye mix, giant spatulas on poles, squeegees, fireproof pants, and a radio dj speaking rapid-fire French, and you have a fun party.
Here are a couple of views of a giant spatula and the griddle.
And the grand finale….a video of the world’s largest ploye being created.
After this event we were wiped out. We picked up pork chops to grill in the campground and walked out of this beautiful park to relax on our final evening in Canada.
If you have camped with us before , you may have been treated to a cobbler from the Dutch Oven. You may even know that they are huge, and we need help to eat them. This is how we make friends. After creating a chocolate raspberry cobbler, we invited a couple in the campground to join us. (First we invited a man tenting out alone, but he was diabetic and didn’t come over) This couple was returning from Ontario to visit relatives in New Brunswick and in a funny coincidence, the man’s sister married a women who was a Breau!! As we were chatting with them, another couple comes in to set up a small teardrop camper in the site across from us so we add them to the mix. They are returning to Ontario after a camping trip to PEI and the man had one of the coolest jobs we had ever heard of. He makes and repairs mining equipment for the big salt and diamond mines in Canada. They actually build trucks, take them apart, send the parts down an elevator, and rebuild them underground. He said they have tunnels for miles under the ground that can have two large trucks pass side by side. It was a relaxing evening, and we had no leftovers!
Day four was our travel day home. It was rather uneventful, and we were let back in to the USA with no troubles. (Dad threw the holster in the Canadian trash!)
All in all, a wonderful trip. Four nice days with my parents, some great food, learned some family history, and explored new places. Now if I can turn off the French phrases that keep going through my head, and keep Glen from using his pretend French accent I will be all set for school to begin next week.
Here’s to unexpected adventures! 🙂
Terry
Wandering Holyokes 