Dépanneurs versus Bodegas: What corner stores say about a city

A dépanneur is what Montrealers of all languages call the corner store. Diana Kole writes in Montreal’s Maisonneuve magazine:

I envy the French language for the word dépanneur. It turns what it does—dépanner, to help out—into a name for both its storefront and its staff, making that most personal of shops a kind of person in itself. We go to the dep to indulge, and the dep justifies those little vices in its name: I’m here, it says, and I’ll help you.

That connotation of aid reassures us that by buying cigarettes and wine, we’re only satisfying a need. The dep—store and repairman—fixes us; the transaction becomes a conversation. Ketchup-flavoured Pringles, PBR Dry, lottery tickets—sure, man! You need it!

Image: A typical dépanneur. Credit: Miguel Tremblay

I wish I had stumbled upon this little ode of love a fortnight ago, as there has been heapings of nonsense in the media lately about an English-speaking dépanneur owner in Montreal who unwittingly broadcast his uncharitable opinion of the people of Quebec on the radio. Controversy and outrage ensued.

I think it’s a shame that one tasteless loudmouth could do so much to ruin the goodwill towards people who play a fairly essential role  in terms of daily life here in Montreal. The woman at my dépanneur speaks three languages fluently and is there every single day, without exception, selling basics (and a wide variety of treats.) I told her to take a few days off, and she answered that she would rather serve her customers. Dépanner (the root of the word dépanneur) means to fix a problem, and that’s exactly what she does.

Bonjour-Hi! Decoding day-to-day bilingualism

How does bilingualism work? The etiquette is a mystery for those of us who come from monolingual places. In Montreal, the approach is actually very pragmatic, and I think the question of service in shops offers a good glimpse of how we muddle through. I’ve been meaning to write this up for a while, and this question from an American reader has spurred me into action.

Here then is a spectrum of greetings you are likely to encounter from staff in a Montreal shop, and what they mean:

• Bonjour - I am probably French mother tongue and I prefer to speak French. I might not speak English very well.
• Bonjour-Hi - I am perfectly bilingual and am happy to serve you in the language of your choice. Although I am probably from Quebec, I might not speak French as a first language.
• Allô! - “Allô” is a tricky one as it sounds a lot like “Hello.” Sometimes counter staff use it to be ambiguous and will serve you in the language in which you respond. Sometimes, however, they are unilingual francophones who are attempting to be informal. In fact, as “Allô” is only used when answering the phone in the rest of the French-speaking world, it took your correspondant about a year to work out that it wasn’t an heavily accented “hello”! Bonjour is almost always the best response to an Allô.
• No greeting - I am probably waiting for you to say Bonjour or Hi so I know which language you prefer (by the way, your editor considers this rude.) I am probably not French mother tongue.
• bonjour-HIII!! - I am stressing the “HI” because although I can serve you in French (and am required to by law), it is not my first language and I would rather serve you in English.
• Hi - I only speak English or I strongly prefer to speak English.

Image: The Office québécois de la langue française on Sherbrooke Street works to ensure that the legislation surrounding the use of French is respected and to promote the use of the French language. Photo by Michel Ferraro.

Despite all of the above, it’s not unusual to flip back and forth between the two languages during a conversation, especially if complicated vocabulary is required. Do you have any bilingual Montreal stories you would like to share?