This isn't easy to do, you know. It's a huge undertaking, to move your entire life to a new country and settle somewhere completely different from what you've known all your life until then. However, it's obvious from looking at human history that immigration is do-able, and not only have people endured it for millennia, they have thrived on it, too.
I still find time for the immigration forum. At first I was sure that once arrived in Canada I would have no time for it, but the truth is that the subject interests me, quite apart from my own personal experience. I follow it avidly in the news: whatever changes Canada makes to its immigration regulations may impact us one way or another, or someone I know. I want to stay informed, and I want to pass on to others what I know so they can navigate these waters too.
What I see sometimes on the forum from others who have completed their processing is that their period of adjustment is harder than they expected, and the couples must work really hard to overcome the challenges arising from being together all the time. Some of these couples never spent any appreciable time living together in Jamaica, and others have. Some have even lived together in Canada before. Still, there is a period of adjustment after the immigration process is complete that calls on them to remember their commitment to each other and why they made this choice in the first place.
Our challenge comes in the form of G's health. He is used to navigating the Canadian health system, I am not. It is routine to him to endure monthly, weekly or random treatments as necessary for his health condition. He knows the nurses, the doctors, the hospitals. I do not. So, of course, I have to ask him questions that might seem redundant or perhaps ridiculous, and I have to observe closely everything that happens to him to understand what is going on.
Given that he hates the treatments, although he has endured them for the better part of a decade now, and given that he will need them for the rest of his natural life unless some miracle cure is found for his body's persistent rejection of the iron necessary to form his lifeblood, I expected he would be more resigned, so to speak to his treatments. Instead, he resents each one as if it is the first, as if the "weakness" that results is a fresh, unforeseen betrayal of what he expects from himself and he does not understand why things are the way they are.
Perhaps it is the Jamaican in me that fatalistically expects struggle and believes one should simply forge ahead once hard times are encountered , grim-faced and with gritted teeth perhaps, but always accepting that things are as they are quickly and moving to with dealing with them. Or perhaps it is some other part of my heritage manifesting itself. Whatever it is, something in me becomes exasperated at his railing at his body and his illness, and simply wants to press on and deal with it as best as possible.
Then I think to myself about how I felt about my asthma when it was worse, and I rein in my feelings and try to walk more in his shoes. I hated the occasional betrayal of my body that was every attack, no matter how mild. Yet I had lived with asthma since I was nine years old, surely I should have been used to it! I acknowledge then that I need to empathise more, to see more of his reactions in myself, and it makes me ashamed of my impatience with his reactions and I allow that he has full as much reason as I ever did, and quite likely more, to feel as he does.
It is this empathy that I will need to cultivate and draw on more if we are to deal successfully with all the challenges that will come in this settling in period. I may be the one who did the moving, but we are both adjusting and sometimes I have to consciously remind myself of this and use it to examine his actions and my reactions and vice versa.
Challenges are a part of any marriage. No matter how well-suited and how compatible they might be, every couple is two very different halves working to be one whole, happy unit. Add the stresses of life and the choices we make such as immigration, and the mettle of any relationship can be tested and pushed beyond anything the couple themselves might have expected. With this in mind, I remind myself, daily if need be, that when all is said and done, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but by his side, so I will always work at gaining all the skills and qualities I need to meet him in his own efforts to secure the strength and happiness of our union.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Loss, and my first Canada Day
When you live in or are from a small town, you get used to no-one except the people living there or from there having much to say about the place. Your focus narrows to the daily doings of your small town, and you expect that the world at large will mostly ignore you and these daily doings, as they are neither earth-shaking nor very important, to the way of most people's thinking.
I was born in a small town, for even though it is the parish capital of Westmoreland and a town of venerable age (established by the Spaniards prior to the English conquest in 1655, hence the name of the town, which means "grassland by the sea"), and in spite of its recent building boom in the last decade or so, Savanna-la-Mar remains very much a small town. I received all my primary and secondary education in this small town, so I am very much a small town girl. In spite of almost six and a half years in Kingston, I still identify with small town people, small town ways and small town thinking.
As a consequence of my upbringing, or perhaps as an advantage of it, I am very much at home in E.L. I don't mind that there's only one mall, that selections and options are limited so far as restaurants, activities or entertainment, I grew up with that. I am very good at amusing myself, as a consequence, and have a high tolerance for what most people would describe as boredom. More to the point, all the "necessary" modern conveniences are here, especially the internet, so I feel like I lack nothing.
What I have not built up a tolerance for, is loss. And loss came to E.L. with a vengeance 8 days ago, and took with it some of the security, and a great deal of the anonymity, that is treasured in small towns. You don't wake up and expect that by the end of the day your small city, barely a dot on the map to most, will be all over the national news because a building fell apart and took with it some of your fellow townspeople. Yet, that is exactly what happened on Saturday, June 22nd, to E.L.
Now, just over a week later, there are families grieving their loved ones, as two lives were lost, and the mall itself is now lost to the community, taking with it the employment of almost three hundred people. For awhile, as the questions linger, our anonymity is lost, as news crews try to get opinions, as government officials search for answers, and both publish these to the wider community.
As a consequence of the mall tragedy, there is a pall over my first Canada Day. Or perhaps, not so much a pall, as a solemnity is cast over the day that is not associated with such celebrations of nationhood. The sense of patriotism and national pride usually felt on these days is dampened by the knowledge that there are families among us mourning, feeling the loss of loved ones not present to share in yet another memorable day. Events in town have been cancelled, rightly so to my mind, and persons are left to their own devices insofar as how they will mark the occasion.
In time, the questions will be answered, and E.L. will go back to being a small city, and of not much notice to anyone who doesn't live here or isn't from the town so as to be familiar with its ways and doings. Until then, a sad something lingers in the air, and a day of national joy comes with tears.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Longer days and my sleep rhythm
A feature of being in the temperate zones is that you actually have changing seasons, as opposed to merely rainy and not-so-rainy in the tropical zones. With the arrival of spring came an event I have not observed in more than a decade and a half - the moving of the clocks forward for daylight saving time (DST).
I actually love DST, when I am somewhere it makes sense. I remember as a very young child when Jamaica still observed it, that I would be awoken at an unconscionably dark hour of morning, assured it was 6:00 a.m. and told I needed to get ready for school. Where the diurnal difference in sunrise and sunset varies only about 1.5 - 2 hours at most during the year, DST was doing no-one in Jamaica any favours. As it is, we did away with it sometime during my primary school years, and I was none the poorer for it.
Here in the northern climes, though, DST makes all the sense in the world. The diurnal difference in sunrise and sunset can get up to as much as 22 hours (in the extreme north, or Arctic regions), but here in northern ON it is about 5 hours (by my inexpert reckoning). And it is wonderful! I wake at 5:30 a.m. most days, and don't go to bed until say 11:00 p.m. usually, and here in Canada, that means it's only been dark for about an hour by the time I am crawling between the sheets.
Of course, all this daylight has caused a shift in my sleep rhythms. My mother has often referred to me as her "chicken" child, because with the coming of sunset I am ready to find a nest and roost. At this time of year, with sunset in Jamaica sometime around 7:00 p.m., I am yawning my head off by 8:00 p.m. and ready to settle in by 9:00 p.m. at the latest. It makes it hard to stay current with any TV programmes that come on at primetime, because by then I am falling asleep. If I force myself to stay awake, I usually crash by the end of the show and miss the best part, when all is revealed in the last ten minutes.
On the contrary, here in Canada I find myself staying up as late as midnight before I feel sufficiently sleepy enough to get into bed. This is brought on by the fact that the days seem to go by quickly, and it is still light out at "late" times of night, so much so that I feel little to no tiredness, and feel distinctly odd to think of going to bed before it is dark out.
This change in my sleep rhythms has me quite interested to see what it will be like in the wintertime. I recall that in NY I suffered perhaps a mild form of seasonal affective disorder (SAD) and hated being indoors during the winter. This time around I am preparing myself to be more outgoing, to enjoy winter rather than endure it, to revel as much in the early sunsets as I do now in the late ones.
I actually love DST, when I am somewhere it makes sense. I remember as a very young child when Jamaica still observed it, that I would be awoken at an unconscionably dark hour of morning, assured it was 6:00 a.m. and told I needed to get ready for school. Where the diurnal difference in sunrise and sunset varies only about 1.5 - 2 hours at most during the year, DST was doing no-one in Jamaica any favours. As it is, we did away with it sometime during my primary school years, and I was none the poorer for it.
Here in the northern climes, though, DST makes all the sense in the world. The diurnal difference in sunrise and sunset can get up to as much as 22 hours (in the extreme north, or Arctic regions), but here in northern ON it is about 5 hours (by my inexpert reckoning). And it is wonderful! I wake at 5:30 a.m. most days, and don't go to bed until say 11:00 p.m. usually, and here in Canada, that means it's only been dark for about an hour by the time I am crawling between the sheets.
Of course, all this daylight has caused a shift in my sleep rhythms. My mother has often referred to me as her "chicken" child, because with the coming of sunset I am ready to find a nest and roost. At this time of year, with sunset in Jamaica sometime around 7:00 p.m., I am yawning my head off by 8:00 p.m. and ready to settle in by 9:00 p.m. at the latest. It makes it hard to stay current with any TV programmes that come on at primetime, because by then I am falling asleep. If I force myself to stay awake, I usually crash by the end of the show and miss the best part, when all is revealed in the last ten minutes.
On the contrary, here in Canada I find myself staying up as late as midnight before I feel sufficiently sleepy enough to get into bed. This is brought on by the fact that the days seem to go by quickly, and it is still light out at "late" times of night, so much so that I feel little to no tiredness, and feel distinctly odd to think of going to bed before it is dark out.
This change in my sleep rhythms has me quite interested to see what it will be like in the wintertime. I recall that in NY I suffered perhaps a mild form of seasonal affective disorder (SAD) and hated being indoors during the winter. This time around I am preparing myself to be more outgoing, to enjoy winter rather than endure it, to revel as much in the early sunsets as I do now in the late ones.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Let's talk about...the weather
No discussion about moving to Canada from Jamaica would be complete without questions on the weather. Of all the contrasts between the two countries, perhaps that would be the most immediate and uppermost in minds. I have been here just under a week now, so it's about time to have that discussion.
Officially, it is spring, and the northern hemisphere's summer starts in just 9 days. From Canadians, including G, I keep hearing how "hot" it is, and inwardly I smile. Yes, I suppose for people used to temperatures in the minus twenties (degrees Celsius), it may seem hot now, with the sun shining and the humidity hovering around 50%. For someone used to temperatures hovering near 34 degrees with 80% or more humidity, the weather now is simply pleasantly warm.
On my first day, it was windy and cool, say around 22 degrees, so I wore a long-sleeved workout top and yoga pants and was comfortable. I plan to acquire some more long-sleeved shirts, knit or jersey, as I was very happy to have that single shirt (the only long-sleeved shirt I own) on Thursday. Saturday morning was another morning to be happy for long-sleeved shirts, as it dawned cool, foggy and wet, and stayed that way until late afternoon. On Saturday, with my long-sleeved shirt in the wash, I had to resort to a hooded sweatshirt over my t-shirt to remain appropriately warm. Surprisingly enough, the temperature rose, the rain and fog cleared off and the evening was very fine.
People you meet in stores and on the street will comment on how "hot" it is, and try to forecast the summer's heat. Having experienced a northern summer before, I know something of what is to come, and I am interested to see if this time it is the same or worse. I cannot expect it to be better, although perhaps the fact that I am in the rural part of the province, as opposed to being in a city, as I was then, will make a difference. It remains to be seen.
Today it is windy, and somewhat cloudy, which over-shadows the warmth and heat that arose earlier in the day. It is cool, in the mid-twenties, low humidity, altogether an agreeable and tolerable temperate day. As time goes on, of course there will be more to say on the weather, but for now? It's quite nice.
Officially, it is spring, and the northern hemisphere's summer starts in just 9 days. From Canadians, including G, I keep hearing how "hot" it is, and inwardly I smile. Yes, I suppose for people used to temperatures in the minus twenties (degrees Celsius), it may seem hot now, with the sun shining and the humidity hovering around 50%. For someone used to temperatures hovering near 34 degrees with 80% or more humidity, the weather now is simply pleasantly warm.
On my first day, it was windy and cool, say around 22 degrees, so I wore a long-sleeved workout top and yoga pants and was comfortable. I plan to acquire some more long-sleeved shirts, knit or jersey, as I was very happy to have that single shirt (the only long-sleeved shirt I own) on Thursday. Saturday morning was another morning to be happy for long-sleeved shirts, as it dawned cool, foggy and wet, and stayed that way until late afternoon. On Saturday, with my long-sleeved shirt in the wash, I had to resort to a hooded sweatshirt over my t-shirt to remain appropriately warm. Surprisingly enough, the temperature rose, the rain and fog cleared off and the evening was very fine.
People you meet in stores and on the street will comment on how "hot" it is, and try to forecast the summer's heat. Having experienced a northern summer before, I know something of what is to come, and I am interested to see if this time it is the same or worse. I cannot expect it to be better, although perhaps the fact that I am in the rural part of the province, as opposed to being in a city, as I was then, will make a difference. It remains to be seen.
Today it is windy, and somewhat cloudy, which over-shadows the warmth and heat that arose earlier in the day. It is cool, in the mid-twenties, low humidity, altogether an agreeable and tolerable temperate day. As time goes on, of course there will be more to say on the weather, but for now? It's quite nice.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Landed!
I spent a very hectic week and a half in Westmoreland with my mother and was able to see my brothers and Grandmother as well. It was worth all the running about just to say I was there and able to see them.
Yesterday was the all-important day, the day I landed in Canada as a permanent resident. After a harrowing landing from what had started as a routine international flight, followed by an involuntary 2-hour confinement on the tarmac in the plane while the airport recovered from the thunderstorms that so terrified me during the landing, I was finally able to enter the airport and process through the various final steps to becoming a permanent resident (PR).
First, the Canadian Border Services Agency examined my declaration card that I was required to fill out on the flight, and directed me to Immigration. Immigration went as expected, and perhaps even more smoothly than it would normally, as I was already so familiar with the requirements of the Act that the officer was relieved of the need to make any explanations, needing only to certify my various documents and then send me on to the next stage.
Stage 3 was declaring my accompanying and to-follow goods and property, and again, preparation made that a smooth process. I had already prepared the necessary forms, so all the Customs officer needed to do was certify them after double-checking they were correctly and completely prepared.
Stage 4 was running to catch my next flight, which was delayed and delayed again until the two hours spent sitting on the tarmac were fully lost and never made up. I arrived in Sudbury at 2:30 a.m. when it should have been midnight, and we were home in Elliot Lake two hours later.
Today has been about settling into the house, getting used to the location of things and re-establishing routines we used to have, such as my doing the dishes after meals because G is the cook. The comfort of these routines will ease me into accepting my new surroundings, and I look forward to each as they come back to us.
Yesterday was the all-important day, the day I landed in Canada as a permanent resident. After a harrowing landing from what had started as a routine international flight, followed by an involuntary 2-hour confinement on the tarmac in the plane while the airport recovered from the thunderstorms that so terrified me during the landing, I was finally able to enter the airport and process through the various final steps to becoming a permanent resident (PR).
First, the Canadian Border Services Agency examined my declaration card that I was required to fill out on the flight, and directed me to Immigration. Immigration went as expected, and perhaps even more smoothly than it would normally, as I was already so familiar with the requirements of the Act that the officer was relieved of the need to make any explanations, needing only to certify my various documents and then send me on to the next stage.
Stage 3 was declaring my accompanying and to-follow goods and property, and again, preparation made that a smooth process. I had already prepared the necessary forms, so all the Customs officer needed to do was certify them after double-checking they were correctly and completely prepared.
Stage 4 was running to catch my next flight, which was delayed and delayed again until the two hours spent sitting on the tarmac were fully lost and never made up. I arrived in Sudbury at 2:30 a.m. when it should have been midnight, and we were home in Elliot Lake two hours later.
Today has been about settling into the house, getting used to the location of things and re-establishing routines we used to have, such as my doing the dishes after meals because G is the cook. The comfort of these routines will ease me into accepting my new surroundings, and I look forward to each as they come back to us.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
G minus 13
What a hectic few days this has been!
I expected packing up and closing off my private clients to be not quite as hectic as they turned out to be, and can only breathe a sigh of relief that the clients are over with except to be paid for my efforts, and the packing up is more or less completed for the major items.
To officially mark the end of my sojourn in Kingston, I went out to dinner with my closest female friends in Kingston. There are only two of them, as such it was a small but enjoyable dinner that was had. Of course, in keeping with the tradition G and I established, we went to have sushi, because that is what we do when he is leaving for Canada. Now that I am the one doing the leaving, my friends and I did the same.
Along with dinner, I left my friends with small tokens to keep as reminders of me. For one, a small book of practical advice for every woman; for the other, a book journal to record all the books she is reading, from one reader to another. I will be able to look back and say, how cool was it that we could do that? Very cool.
Tonight is my last night in this apartment, tomorrow night I fall asleep in my mother's house. I have lived here for 19 months, and of all the addresses I had in Kingston, it will remain my favourite. No, it wasn't the best apartment, but it certainly was the most conveniently located, and the one I felt safest going to and from. I had the least issues here, and really few things annoyed me, and now they are of no consequence. I am looking forward to my new address, but will remember this one fondly.
I am moving again. In the eighteen years since I became an adult (legally, anyhow), I have had twice as many addresses as I did in the previous eighteen years. I am obviously something of a rolling stone. I have always been willing to pull up stakes and move to the next place in the hope that I will find something better than obtained in the last place. In some cases, it was work, in other cases it was quality of life.
One more appointment and some bill paying tomorrow, then off to the West!
I expected packing up and closing off my private clients to be not quite as hectic as they turned out to be, and can only breathe a sigh of relief that the clients are over with except to be paid for my efforts, and the packing up is more or less completed for the major items.
To officially mark the end of my sojourn in Kingston, I went out to dinner with my closest female friends in Kingston. There are only two of them, as such it was a small but enjoyable dinner that was had. Of course, in keeping with the tradition G and I established, we went to have sushi, because that is what we do when he is leaving for Canada. Now that I am the one doing the leaving, my friends and I did the same.
Along with dinner, I left my friends with small tokens to keep as reminders of me. For one, a small book of practical advice for every woman; for the other, a book journal to record all the books she is reading, from one reader to another. I will be able to look back and say, how cool was it that we could do that? Very cool.
Tonight is my last night in this apartment, tomorrow night I fall asleep in my mother's house. I have lived here for 19 months, and of all the addresses I had in Kingston, it will remain my favourite. No, it wasn't the best apartment, but it certainly was the most conveniently located, and the one I felt safest going to and from. I had the least issues here, and really few things annoyed me, and now they are of no consequence. I am looking forward to my new address, but will remember this one fondly.
I am moving again. In the eighteen years since I became an adult (legally, anyhow), I have had twice as many addresses as I did in the previous eighteen years. I am obviously something of a rolling stone. I have always been willing to pull up stakes and move to the next place in the hope that I will find something better than obtained in the last place. In some cases, it was work, in other cases it was quality of life.
One more appointment and some bill paying tomorrow, then off to the West!
Saturday, May 19, 2012
G minus 17
My colleagues gave me a send-off party yesterday. It was so unexpected, it came as a complete surprise. By dint of some slick manoeuvres, they got me out of the office so they could get the decorations and cake into the meeting room, which is located directly behind my cubicle. I even walked past the team members who chose the card they all signed while they paid for it and was not one bit the wiser.
I was astonished, and honestly have never had a nicer send-off. Considering that I have worked with them for the shortest period I have ever been employed full-time, it speaks to the quality of the team spirit at this particular place that they felt it was necessary to do this for me. I was not the least bit reluctant to give the expected "speech" and spent it praising them individually and collectively for the welcome, the training, the encouragement and the camaraderie I was so fortunate to experience.
So, now we're at G minus 17, as a clever friend of ours described it, a description I was pleased to adopt. I am going fully into moving mode now. I hope to get a few boxes to start packing away my books, and I will pack away all the clothes I won't wear in the following week and those I don't plan to take with me. I need to have my spaces clear so I can begin cleaning them down. I intend for cleaning to be a multi-day project rather than a one or two day event, as I will be scattering some appointments through the various days.
One such appointment is to see a dermatologist. While I am fortunate enough to be married to a man who literally loves me "warts and all", I have long wrestled with self-consciousness over those on my face and neck and have decided to have them dealt with. I think it's appropriate that I start my new phase in life with a fresh look, and not carry some of the image issues I have had here with me. This treatment is unlikely to rid me of all of them, but at the least the most obvious ones will go. There are some that look like freckles, I find those unremarkable and do not care if they remain.
Another appointment is to see to my bank account, as I have some monthly commitments attached to it that I need to sign paperwork for it to cease. Not looking forward to that, getting service at my branch involves waiting for an hour to be seen for 10 minutes. I will be staying with the same bank in Canada, and plan to keep this account open to do any business necessary in Jamaica.
So, on with the show!
I was astonished, and honestly have never had a nicer send-off. Considering that I have worked with them for the shortest period I have ever been employed full-time, it speaks to the quality of the team spirit at this particular place that they felt it was necessary to do this for me. I was not the least bit reluctant to give the expected "speech" and spent it praising them individually and collectively for the welcome, the training, the encouragement and the camaraderie I was so fortunate to experience.
So, now we're at G minus 17, as a clever friend of ours described it, a description I was pleased to adopt. I am going fully into moving mode now. I hope to get a few boxes to start packing away my books, and I will pack away all the clothes I won't wear in the following week and those I don't plan to take with me. I need to have my spaces clear so I can begin cleaning them down. I intend for cleaning to be a multi-day project rather than a one or two day event, as I will be scattering some appointments through the various days.
One such appointment is to see a dermatologist. While I am fortunate enough to be married to a man who literally loves me "warts and all", I have long wrestled with self-consciousness over those on my face and neck and have decided to have them dealt with. I think it's appropriate that I start my new phase in life with a fresh look, and not carry some of the image issues I have had here with me. This treatment is unlikely to rid me of all of them, but at the least the most obvious ones will go. There are some that look like freckles, I find those unremarkable and do not care if they remain.
Another appointment is to see to my bank account, as I have some monthly commitments attached to it that I need to sign paperwork for it to cease. Not looking forward to that, getting service at my branch involves waiting for an hour to be seen for 10 minutes. I will be staying with the same bank in Canada, and plan to keep this account open to do any business necessary in Jamaica.
So, on with the show!
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