An ode to a great wingman; why Edmonton's nightlife lacks the diversity of a Montreal or Paris

In Paris, I had a mate named Tyler. He was American, 27 years old.

There was nothing really special about him. Well, actually there was an awful lot that was special. While he knew nothing about hockey (somehow, despite that admission, our friendship soldiered on), one thing he could do was start conversations with anyone. And by anyone, I mean literally anyone. In baseball, there are lefty-specialist pitchers, and in life there are conversation-starting specialist people, and Tyler was is one of them. And you have to remember that we were both in a country (France) where the spoken language was not our native tongue. And yet, almost everywhere we went, Tyler had this magical ability to turn strangers into acquaintances and acquaintances into friends. They could be buskers or barmen or retail clerks or the descendents of King Louis XIV…it really didn't matter.

In Amsterdam, we talked with a Dutchman who was about our fathers' age. We met the man at a café near the Anne Frank House, in front of a beautiful canal (at this point, mine and Tyler's friendship was a ripe two weeks old). He spent most of our conversation talking about the environment and what we, being the 'next generation', could do to improve it. I learned a lot from that three hour interaction. The guy I could thank for striking up the conversation: Tyler.

He played a huge role in my Parisien experience. He was one of my best friends, and an outstanding wingman.

While I'm a fairly social guy myself, with Tyler, those qualities just became that much more intense whenever I was with him. He made me Ultra-Salim, the optimistic, enthusiastic, outgoing guy who I'm trying to recreate as I transition back to Edmonton.


I first learned the art of "Walking into a bar, knowing not a soul, and coming out with some new
friends and a great story" last summer while living in Montreal. The city is so conducive to that, it's scary. It's the second biggest Canadian city, second biggest French city in the world, a mere two hours from the US border (and a five hour drive from New York City), a mere three hours from the Ontario border (and a five hour drive from Toronto, Canada's biggest city), and Quebec City is just a three hour hitch hike away.


There are two major international universities in the city (McGill and Concordia), and two francophone universities there as well. 

Not to mention the countless international companies whose headquarters or large offices are in the city.

What does that mean? That means that, whether you are in the mood for a quiet café or a couple of pints, you will run into people that are from a far away place, have a funny accent, and are up for meeting new people. It attracts plenty of tourists, many people who move from France to Quebec, English Canadian businessmen, and HORDES of students/young people.

It really was easy to just go somewhere, grab a water or beer or coffee, start a conversation, and have an amazing afternoon or night with new people. Amongst my group of friends in Montreal last summer, they'd probably say that I was their 'Tyler.' I love being a Tyler (being a Salim is alright too, I suppose).

Paris and Montreal are quite similar in many ways, namely the fact that young people are drawn there to both live and visit. Tourists roam the streets with reckless abandon, ready to discover the city and meet new people. People on working holiday visas, or in the city for a conference, or foreign students, all in one place, often at tables mere feet from each other. You hear so many different accents, see so many different outfits, see so many different techniques to attract the opposite (or same) gender, it's incredible. That diversity was so fun to be a part of.

I can't tell you how many times Tyler and I would be chatting, in either English or French, in Paris and someone would stop by, intrigued by our accents, and we'd begin that beautiful friendship process. 

It's fair to say that Edmonton, well, just doesn't have those qualities. On Friday night, I was roaming the downtown area by myself, somewhat in the mood to recreate memories past and make some new friends. That, well didn't happen. Was it my own shyness/nerves? Maybe…or it could just be that a city like Edmonton is less conducive to those random encounters.

In Edmonton, you generally go to a café or bar with your friends…one, two, five, you have your group, and other patrons at the bar have theirs. You all spend your evening together, have your pints, some great laughs, and call it a night. 99% of the time, the people you came in with will be the people you leave with. 

You may meet someone from Red Deer or Calgary or perhaps even Vancouver or Saskatoon, but that is often as far as it goes.

Because the vast majority of people in Edmonton were either born in the city or province of Alberta (or have lived there for a few years), there isn't as much diversity as in other, more international or touristy cities. People tend to dress fairly similar, talk the same, and behave the same. Everyone goes out with their group of friends; there are very few people who go out by themselves. 

It's funny…in France, the folks tended to be less outgoing in the streets, but very pleasant and friendly in the confines of a café or bar. In Edmonton, from what I've seen since I returned, it's the opposite: people are great in the street or walking their dog, but when they step foot into a bar or Starbucks, they tend to stick with the people they came in with.

While as a younger boy, I craved the crazy late nights, empty shot glasses strewn about…as a (dare I say) now life-experience-filled 21 year old man, I crave the crazy late conversations, empty voices strewn about from all the talking and laughing.

In Edmonton, that ambiance and energy doesn't exist. Spontaneity and meeting new people just isn't the same.

Where's Tyler when you need him?

First reflection of France; another complicated life decision

I've said it before…returning back to Edmonton has been 1000x harder than initially moving to France.

It's been a rollercoaster of emotions, saying goodbye to the great European adventure. No more pints in Chatalet. No more English lessons. No train rides to Arts et Metiers. I can't lick the Eiffel Tower anymore (something I made a habit of doing. Yes, I am weird), only a picture of it.

A month into my new Edmontonian life, and I greatly miss Europe still. 

I miss Conflans Sainte Honorine, the town next to Paris that I lived in. I miss living at Lycée Jules Ferry, and spending my Saturday mornings in the staff room of the school, sipping on coffee and chatting with the English teachers. Living in such a small town was nice because you had so many personal yet not-so-personal relationships. I had a kebab guy, a clementine guy, a baguette lady, a couple of grocery ladies, a haircutting lady, a coffee guy (who, coincidentally, has a sister who once worked in Edmonton), a beer guy, and a croissant lady. I couldn't tell you their names, and they couldn't tell you mine, but they knew…

"Je viens de Canada. Edmonton, c'est trois heures nord du Calgary"

"J'étudie journalisme."

"Maintenant en Conflans je suis l'assistant de l'anglais au lycée Jules Ferry, et aussi j'ai une stage de journalisme en Paris sur rue Beaubourg."

"Canada c'est froid, mais le pay c'est comme un grand pub ou tous les gens sont amis. La culture est trés ouvert, et les gens parlent beaucoup avec les étrangers."

I miss that small talk that comes with a small town. Almost always whenever I stepped out of my apartment I'd run into a student. I miss that too. I loved teaching there, and my students were awesome in every single way.

Before I initially left Canada, I knew that when I came back, I'd have a family to go to and have dinner with and tease about their junior high dances and the sweaty palms that come with that. What I didn't anticipate was that I'd have a family in the Paris region that I would leave behind. We all met by chance, but boy were those moments special. 

The night the six of us met for the first time, we hung out for 12 hours, meeting at around 3pm at les Jardins Luxembourg on a Saturday night, through a Facebook event for English assistants in the Paris area. That night saw us venture to the Louvre, Place de la Concorde, and the Bastille area. We grabbed pints along the way, including our first one at The Cork and Cavern, a nice Irish pub along the Canal St Martin, an area and pub we would soon frequent.




We fell asleep in a Paris metro station in the wee hours of the morning. By the time we all caught our first trains around 5:30am, the seeds that grow great families had firmly been planted. Make no mistake, we were far more than just friends. That was Saturday, October 5, 2013, 12 days after I first arrived in Paris. 




It's one of a thousand amazing stories I can tell you about those lovely souls. We were joined by a handful of other adventurous, lovely souls along the way. The moments we had were priceless. They will always hold special places in my heart. 


The nice part about living abroad (and in Montreal last summer, for that matter) was that you never really knew how your day was going to unfold. You just got up, showered, ate breakfast, dressed sharply, and hopped on the train. There was always some sort of magic in store. 

Along the way, I found an amazing journalism internship in the heart of Paris. For five months, I was a journalist in Paris, working on the same street as city hall, with an outstanding set of teammates and mentors. 

To all those people who have uttered the words, "Boy Salim you've changed from your time overseas," you can distinctly thank everyone above. They made me a much more complete, kind, grounded human being. 

The difference now is that, for the first time in a year (and potentially the last time ever), I am living

in Edmonton, a city that I know fairly well. There isn't much spontaneity or energy because I know the book on the city. I'm not as curious or excited to meet new people. It's an interesting and bizarre adjustment. I honestly don't know if I fit in here. My heart and mind and soul are still very much navigating the streets of Paris, probably with a cigarette in one hand, a pint in the other, a good friend across the table, a pretty femme out of the corner of my eye, and a great exchange of ideas filling the air.

To those on the fence, I cannot emphasize it enough: move, and move quickly and with confidence, to another part of the world. Bruce Springsteen said it best, "Baby we were born to run."

Right now, my mind is occupied with other things…I must decide where to go to university. If I return to Montreal and Concordia University (which I was accepted into), I would be looking at an extra year of school, plus significant student debt. It would mean I'd graduate at age 25; a Masters degree or law school or another year in Paris would be much more challenging to obtain that way. However if I stay in Edmonton, though the opportunity may be less, I'd be able to save money and be debt free, as well as have that extra year for school or another extended work experience.

Unfortunately, dollars and yen and euro tend to rule the world to a certain extent.

I sometimes regret the gusto with which I approach life, given it often leads to complicated decisions. At the same time, as I sit here at home in Edmonton, I have begun to wonder if I truly did Leave It All Out There while in Europe. Those types of thoughts are inevitable after such an amazing experience.

While I am not certain with my career choice for the future, I know that I enjoy studying journalism the most of all disciplines. I also know that I want a CV that will compete, challenge, and win positions in London, New York, and, yes, Paris. At this moment, I ache for another few months in Île de France.

It's been the most challenging month of my life in many ways. I've been a different brand of Salim; one who is sometimes thinking about the amazing times overseas when he should be focusing in the now. What I would give for my tongue to touch the Eiffel Tower one more time. 


It is truly mind boggling how quickly that time went by.

I suppose that the above was just a long winded way of saying…pint at the Great Canadian Pub, 21:00 ce soir, mes amis??

À bientôt,