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Illustration by Catherine Chan
Starting over in Canada was tough. You have to leave behind who you were. You may declare your worth by showing off the certificates and qualifications that you’ve gained through decades of education and work experience in your home country, but they won’t matter any more. You are a newcomer, and now a nobody. I find Canadians nice, but not very trusting.
In the meantime, you try to survive. Upon arriving into the country, the struggle to integrate into Canadian society begins.
A work colleague once remarked to me that Filipinos are friendly and cheerful, and that many of us work in Walmart and Tim Hortons. I knew it was an innocent remark (or an honest observation from fact) but the comment was pregnant with connotations. The most culturally diverse workplaces are where pay is the lowest because only these places are willing to trust newcomers.
Those who feel that working a minimum-wage job while struggling to establish one’s career from scratch is a bruise to their ego will think of the experience as akin to losing one’s self-respect. They might even give up their visas, go back and reclaim their old lives. However, for those like me who remain unfazed and open to the possibilities in spite the initial status downgrade, we believe that better prospects lie ahead.
I have learned to straddle the balance between assimilating and celebrating my own cultural identity. Many Filipinos find it easy to meld with whatever culture they find themselves enmeshed. I can get lost amongst the crowd and join in Canada Day festivities. I’ve developed a taste for maple syrup on pancakes, and gravy and cheese curds on fries. I’ve learned to love hockey. I’ve learned to apologize even for non-offenses and converse about the weather.
Then every time my wife and I feel homesick, we gather in the homes of fellow Filipinos and create pockets of the Philippines as we party the Filipino way. With my eight-year-old daughter, we feast on pansit, lumpia and adobo. We gossip in Tagalog and keep updated on each other’s lives. We troop down to the basement to out sing each other in karaoke. After the party, we resume with our Canadian lives.
Nevertheless, in spite of our ability to assimilate, as a first generation Canadian I will always feel like a foreigner or an exile. The hearts of naturalized Canadians remain rooted to their country of birth. Whenever we think of vacationing to the Philippines, we refer to it as “going back home.” Many of the Filipinos I know also think of leaving Canada after retirement. Our native land constantly calls like a siren song and every now and then stops us in our tracks with pangs of nostalgia.
When we told our family and friends back in Manila that we were finally getting our Canadian citizenship, they sent messages of congratulations. A patriot should construe the act of denouncing one’s birth country as an act of disloyalty. But not for our Filipino family. For us, renouncing Filipino citizenship means escaping the ravages of poverty, natural calamities, and a difficult government.
The proverbial grass is not necessarily greener in Canada. Here, I am taxed on many things. Inflation is rising at a scary pace. Housing is scarce. Nevertheless, like millions before me who have chosen to stay, we continue to believe and pursue our Canadian dreams because others have succeeded despite the difficulties. I choose to stay because while I have learned to accept the fact that life is hard, here I can still dream of being more than what I am. My daughter is also able to get a good education, which we wouldn’t have been able to afford in Manila. I notice that here in Canada, public schools give young students the care, attention and quality of education that can be had in the Philippines only if parents can spare a fortune on private schools. If the Canadian dream doesn’t work out for me, my daughter has a better shot at realizing it.
Before I came to Canada, I had experienced the hard life, but not the hopefulness.
Last March, six years after immigrating, we took the oath of citizenship and turned Canadian.
I did it with gratitude, pride and hopefulness.
Raymund P. Reyes lives in Ottawa.