Innucadie

Isn't that name engaging?  "Innucadie" is the brainchild of a modest community-minded individual who has contributed to the local community development for several years now, someone who isn't terribly interested in recognition.  The word comes from "innu", meaning the Innu nation, an aboriginal group living on Québec's lower north shore for the last several thousand years, and "acadie", from those peoples who migrated to that lower north shore from other places that welcomed them after the deportation of Acadians by the British in 1755.  We're talking about a large territory shared by both Innu and "white" peoples of Acadian and other origins.

Well, last weekend the Innucadie Festival was held in a small village at the end of the paved road, Natashquan, birthplace of the dearly-loved and well-known Québécois poet and singer, Gilles Vigneault.  The Festival is three years old, and gathers together story-tellers from two cultures, the Innu and the Acadians, drawing in other story-tellers from origins that go way beyond this region.  Everyone who attended the festival had to drive by my house some 260 km further to get there.  In all, anyone who came from Montreal drove 1300 km.

I attended the Festival.  I may have Innu blood (my sister, the genealogy expert in the family hasn't confirmed that yet), and I certainly have Acadian blood (Vigneault, the family of French origins created by a young man and his bride sent to Québec in the 17th century to create the population of our beloved nation).  I waltz comfortably between both cultures for various reasons.

The festival was wonderful.  I had bought several tickets for story-telling events.  Those which touched me the most were local stories, among them one which connected my father's life to how the cod fishery was conducted up until the 1930s.

The weather didn't permit long walks along the beach (we are not, NOT, NOT having a summer here this year).  I will have to go back later this fall and finish the reflection I had begun by walking along a beach which stretches for kilometers.  The cottage I rented was in a quiet safe bay -- sitting on the porch of the cottage I could see the waves breaking on the shore at about 10 feet away.

Everywhere, though, there were people who came to hear stories, to share stories, to be amazed by stories.  The wolves, bears and other critters were not far away, I felt.

A report in the regional newspaper suggested that we change the name of the tourist region from "Duplessis" (named after as close to a dictator as Québec has ever had as Premier in the 40s and 50s), to Innucadie, as there Innu all along the coast, and Acadians as well.  I think it is an inspired idea, one I would be prepared to promote and work on as long as we give credit to the original group in Natashquan for creating this idea and putting flesh on its bones.  Perhaps our short and intense tourist season would benefit from being known as a three-month Innucadie festival, from higher-up along the coast of the St. Lawrence River, to the wide-open Gulf of St. Lawrence, where brave and tenacious folk, both aboriginal and intruder, have lived and worked together for way longer than the last century.

Come to our festival next year -- the organizers are already at work to plan an exciting event.  Along the way, you will see whales of all kinds close to the shore, you will see the stunted trees on either side of the road (could also be called the bonsai highway), and you will experience amazing sunrises at 4 a.m. which will make you fall in love with the region.

Comments

[Amy Lenzo]

It sounds beautiful Ann... I'd love to be there next year!

[heather]

What a beautiful sense of place and identity... I do miss being somewhere where there is a sense of aboriginality... I know there is here, technically, but it just feels different somehow than being in the Americas (or Australia).

[Bob Petterson]

Hi Ann!

Accidentally stumbled across this today while searching for any new information or stories of the Vigneault family in Natashquan.

Wonderful story. So glad I found it.

ps - I think we're related. I also have Vigneault ancestry from La Côte-Nord. My paternal grandmother, a Vigneault from Sept-Iles, had a sister who married a Jarnet.

Cheers.