The First Weeks

During one of the sessions given by the Canadian immigration office to would be immigrants, they talked about "culture shock". They said that anyone moving into Canada from another country is likely to suffer from the stresses of their inability to understand the workings of the new culture. Scientific research also has shown that there are distinct stages in the process of cultural adjustment.

1] Euphoria - just before and after arriving where you have high hopes and expectations. Everything is fascinating.

2] Disenchantment - you are absorbed in many practical problems such as finding employment, housing etc. Feelings include frustration, fear, anger, nostalgia or depression.

3] Gradual adjustment - you start feeling more in control of your life as you acquire better understanding of the new country.

4] Mental isolation - the initial problems of settling have been resolved. You now have time to think about everything you have lost in your old country. Deeper psychological problems may come to force and you may isolate yourself from the new culture.

5] Acceptance and integration - a routine is established. You have become accustomed to the habits, customs, food and people of the new country.

As I was listening to these points being discussed, I had smugly thought that I most likely wouldn't go through the same process as I have been in and out of the US and other foreign countries often, even travelling alone for months. I was wrong. It is different going into different countries with nothing to worry about but the business that you needed to do in that place and everything is being paid for by the company (I even get to drive those nice fancy rental cars with GPS, along with nice lunches/dinners and nice hotels). In contrast, coming in as an immigrant, I am bringing my family with no job, no house, no car, nothing else but 6 baggage's, our life savings (which decreased 40x the moment we converted it to Canadian dollars) and those fragile pebbles that I kept in my pocket - hope and faith.

I have to say, Canada specifically British Columbia is beautiful. The trees and flowers are having a battle on who could make tourists trip from staring at their amazing display of branches, pregnant with whatever eye catching plumage possible. I have never seen shrubbery that is totally covered with flowers, like the whole plant just had an internal battle between leaves and flowers and the flowers won, so all the leaves had to vacate the branches and move somewhere else - the roots maybe.

However beautiful nature is in Canada, I did feel the "disenchantment" stage, just as the immigration officer had said. And it came in the form of fear, more specifically, it came when I saw the faces of the homeless Canadians scattered along its major streets -- an old man sitting on the pavement, not moving, eyes hazy, staring at nothing, and blood was trickling from somewhere on the top of his head down his nose and cheek. He didn't even care to move to wipe or cover it. There was another who was sitting in front of a black digital watch, which was carefully laid out on the pavement floor before him and a note beside it saying - "I will trade watch for food." Another was busily tapping out the remaining unused tobacco from thrown out cigarette butts. In the church, there's a wailing wall of prayers, one note said - "Lord, I am alone again, my child is with me. Please help us find a home." There was a woman, who was sitting on her luggage, holding out his cap with one hand and holding a small teddy bear in the other, she had the smile of my mother.
In Canada's homeless, I saw the face of poverty like I have never seen before. I am used to seeing poverty at home, even worse that what I see here. But to see 'white people', begging on the streets, with all their belongings tucked carefully in shopping carts, it just short circuits my colonial brain. If white people, who somehow in these few days of transition, my brain suddenly sees as a higher and better race than mine, could end up homeless and in that miserable state, then it is entirely possible it could happen to me and my family. It was a terrifying thought, one that hasn't entered my consciousness before, ever.. till now.
With every cent we spend for our daily needs everyday, I see those faces of the homeless and the fear in my heart grows. I didn't know the rules of their games here. I didn't even know that we have to apply for apartments like we are applying for jobs. After being turned down because we had no rental history nor jobs, I felt helpless. It was a very strange and terrifying feeling. I feel for those old homeless people. I often wonder what could possibly have happened in their lives for them to just stop moving, just sit there, in those cold cold streets, not caring to wipe the blood dripping on their face and just waiting for their lives to drain away. The worms are too slow moving.

That was my experience with disenchantment. I am happy to say that I have passed that stage now. I couldn't have imagined having thoughts like the ones I had during those first few days, but I did. I think that for immigrants, the first few weeks are like passing through twilight zone. You'll never know what dark things could come up to face you from within. One really has to face and conquer ones fears. I am very thankful for the encouragement and inspiration from my friends who called me at that time - Mon, Rela, Peter, Rose, Din - thank you very much!