First thing in the morning on the 25th, we left Campbellton and headed further east along the coast, past Miramichi and into Bouctouche.
The omnipresent Acadian flags of New Brunswick.
In Bouctouche, we veered towards the Northumberland Strait and stopped for lunch at the marsh reserve. Ecologists have posted numerous signs with clear explanations as to the importance of every single variation of microclimate in general and, in this specific case, of why the marshes are vital for the local ecosystem. Again, how much of these changes are driven by compassion and not by self-centred concern of survival remains an important element in the equation of life that will have a final say on how far these changes will go.
In New Brunswick, we passed several road signs in an American Indian language — the only official signs we’ve seen in Canada indicating some sort of acknowledgment of the existence of inhabitants other than the francophones and the anglophones.
Acadian flags were everywhere.
Here, they have assembled 5 flags on one lawn: the blue and white of Quebec, below it is the Canadian flag, at the bottom the Acadian, and on the second pole the flag of New Brunswick on top and of France at the bottom. The British flag was missing in the northern part of the province (although I saw it all over Fredericton), understandably so, for the brutality with which the Brits had dealt with the French colonists when the francophones refused to take to arms against the Indians and the French during the 7 years war of the 18th century is still fresh in the memory of the Acadians. In any case, we got compensated for this lack of British flags here later with the sight of New Scots indulging in English breakfast beneath the British flag in Nova Scotia. But, more on that later.
The history of the Canadian land dates back millions of years, even though paleontologists and archaeologists believe that North America was the last of the continents to have been inhabited by humans. The European period of the history of Canada is, on the other hand, extremely short and began in Newfoundland and the Maritime region since it was there that Leif Erikson supposedly landed in 1000 AD. The various Norwegian expeditions in the 10th and 11th centuries and then the Italian, John Cabot’s, explorations on behalf of the English king during the late part of the 15th century, along with others — all these expeditions prepared the ground for the European colonial strife for the possession of the Americas. Fishing vessels and fur traders followed on the footsteps of the initial explorers, even though, they did not settle initially, and would regularly come to exploit the seas and the animals throughout the 16th century always returning to Europe.
During the second half of the 18th century, European settling began in Newfoundland and the Maritime provinces, a phenomenon that imposed new attitude to «resources» and a different approach to the utilisation of space along with all the living and sentient beings dwelling in that space providing, which the foundation for today’s Canada’s and its national heritage.
Full comprehension of the scope of the devastation inflicted on the land and sea by the European invention of the humanist dogma and its obsession with civilisation is a feat of insanity, because how can one possibly understand, witness and feel the despair of living beings — animal, human or plant — rendered helpless at protecting their children, their wilderness and their lives by the civilised model: the bludgeoned seal babies is the most overt of the perversions, however, domestication of farm animals holds just as much horror.
No wonder the civilised can barely function without legal and illegal drugs to induce oblivion and lull their conscience debilitating them senseless. They delude themselves with that ignorance is bliss and dive head down into the hell they dare not acknowledge. And so they desperately seek a remedy for their chronic depression, except that the only remedy that can ever work is freeing ourselves from the nightmare of humanism and murder.
Reading the accounts of the abundance of wildlife on the continent a mere 200 years ago and travelling through the lunar landscape now, I had to find a way to come to terms with the contrast between the amazing colours that jolt the heart yet deceive the expectations of richness offering instead a contrast of bareness and silence, the silence one meets in the absence of life. Where are the thousands of wild buffaloes, the wolves, the bears, the crabs, the seashells, the snails that roamed their green homeland only a few of centuries ago?
European invention of «resources» and «management of resources» (the most important terms that «drive» the «economy» of the Eastern Canadian provinces) is the key to deciphering this landscape of death.
Aboriginal forestry stands in stark contrast to this European, now going by the names of capitalism and democracy. In a paper titled «Aboriginal Forestry», Reginald Parsons and Gordon Prest say that:
«Aboriginal forestry can be seen as sustainable forest land use practices that incorporate the cultural protocols of the past with interactions between the forest ecosystem and today’s Aboriginal people for generations unborn. Aboriginal forestry combines the strengths of current forest management models with traditional cultural Aboriginal forest practice. Aboriginal forestry practice is more than just following a prescription outlining when, where, and how to harvest, but prescribes how a respectful relationship with the natural world can be developed».
Today, we drove through the landscape with the «cottage»-«vacation» culture on the left by the beach facing — and depending on — the civilised agri- (and) culture on the right:
Continued in part 3