The day I met Jagmeet
I met Jagmeet Singh, the Canadian new democrat leader in September 2013. For any other human, that would have been the highlight of the day, but I had just freed myself from a conga line Bill Murray had started, after arguing about tequila with Cara Delevingne and Kate Beckinsale (an argument you cannot win), and this was before Brad Pitt apologized to me, saying “Sorry… again” (“again” being obvious proof that he recognized me, you’ll agree.) Of course, he did a lot of apologizing after his gorillas in suits pushed people aside for him to walk down a tiny set of service stairs.
I wasn’t having a lucid dream, or trying any -now legal- substances in Canada. I was attending TIFF. Or for foreigners like me, Toronto International Film Festival, and among Hollywood actors, producers and directors, Jagmeet had a flair and flow that naturally made him belong there.
Most of the action at TIFF, at least back then, happened at Soho House. The countless corridors and little corners of the exclusive members club allowed for the most private conversations, as well as the impromptu conversations that two humans feel compelled to have when casually meeting other people within a tight space.
But that’s not how our conversation happened. Jagmeet was in the middle of a crowded room where small groups gathered and separated, exchanging stories while sipping Grey Goose cocktails. In a room full of celebrities in night attire, I’d dare say that Singh was the most stylish man in the building. A pocket square colour-matching his turban? Check. Love it.
In one of these conversational encounters that happen when two groups stand side by side and both their conversations dry up at the same time, I introduced myself to him. The first question he asked me was something people rarely ask as an ice breaker in such environments. He said: “You have an accent, where are you from?” So I told him where I was from, -Spain- where I lived -London- and what we were doing in Toronto that week; and he explained his job and his party. I had never heard the acronym NDP.
At that point, any other politician might have feigned interest, being polite for the next 2 sentences and buggering off in his mission to get a picture taken or convert actual voters for Ontario. But Singh, who wasn’t drinking, was as lively as the next man and genuinely interested in everything I had to say. We chatted about London and its multicultural, multiethnic population, Toronto, and how affordable flights today made the world a much smaller place. Neither of us flew much as kids, now too much.
We talked about Europe -this was before Brexit was even conceivable- and how Europeans had “figured it out” when it came to matters like single-payer universal healthcare and “pharmacare”, affordable education and student loans, fossil fuels, etc.
We must have spent about 20 minutes talking, which in “event-time” equates to 7 years. At that point, we were going to be in Toronto for 48 more hours. A provincial MP at the time, Jagmeet didn’t hesitate, he invited us to the Ontario Legislative Building the next day, gave us his business card and some recommendations for restaurants. This intriguing stranger was inviting us to his office without a hidden agenda. Knowing upfront that we weren’t part of his constituency, we had no platform and no plans to become Canadian.
At the time I didn’t know who he was, or how important he’d be; but it was a beautiful exchange. He left the event rather early, while I and the rest of the Grey Goose team, almost acting as masters of ceremonies, were there until the last guest left. Trying to recover from the previous jetlag before the next one kicked in, we never made it to visit Jagmeet the day after. But two days after, while waiting for our plane, we saw him on a style magazine cover; there he was, within “Toronto’s most stylish list”, a politician. “Maybe this is the politician of the future” I thought to myself.
This week, many years after and now as a Canadian resident, I watched the “federal leaders debate” on TV. It was a name-calling, reality TV like show, where candidates should have been rated from bad to worst, and the moderators, (apparently top journalists) left a lot to be desired within their conductor-like role. Trudeau came up short. Jagmeet shined.
The conservative candidate Andrew Sheer and Trudeau, the sitting PM, were ahead in the polls by a considerable margin. They had more screen time so they spent the night blame shifting and attacking each other, monopolizing the conversation with the debate quality of a 7th grader; to the extent where we heard Jagmeet saying to them: “We’ve heard you both arguing who’d be worse for Canada, I think we should be talking about who’d be best for Canada.” I laughed.
Every poll agreed that Mr. Singh, in his usual respectful matter, won the debate, and in contrast to the forerunners top 2, there has been no scandals related to his party or his person. But, I guess despite being the most multicultural country in the world, the turban still carries a considerable weight. The weight of prejudice.
I saw Jagmeet in that debate not as a politician, but as the man who I met. The people’s person who didn’t care that I wasn’t a voter or a celebrity, for 20 minutes, I was to him, the most important person in the room. We can only aspire to treat others in that same manner.
Americans can’t help themselves but to dilute the democrat vote. Us Spaniards believe that our beloved “punishment vote” (the vote where you punish the present leader by voting the opposite party) is a Spanish thing, but the 50%+ of Canadians who wouldn’t vote Sheer or Trudeau, can’t stop talking about their “strategic vote”, where depending on where they live, they may be able to vote for who they really want, otherwise, the only thing they can do to stop conservative Andrew Sheer is voting Trudeau. Sad bipartidism at its best.
Looking back, in my young years I volunteered extensively in political campaigns. I’ve met multiple leaders and politicians, including Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero, my favourite Spanish president and politician, who I deeply admire. But none of them left an impression such as Singh did. So humble, so direct, so human. So not a politician. At present, I’m not even a permanent resident in Canada, so… far from being able to vote here, I thought I’d scratch my itch by writing these words.
(This article was originally published in Spanish for TheCitizen.es)
