I’m your immigrant friend. Now what?

First of all, and it’s essential – we’re all different. Do you have a “miscellaneous” folder where you keep the stuff you cannot come up with a category for in three seconds? If we could place people in folders, we’d have “immigrants” in there. The main differences cover the countries we left, the reasons we did it, and why we chose Canada. So what you’re going to read is ultimately true only about me and my experience.

What I Miss

I spent all my life–childhood, teenage years, stepping into adulthood–in Russia. Of course, I miss certain people and places. For example, if I ever come to show you our wedding photos, you’ll see a pink cloud of flowers in the background. Every end of April a big old apple tree turns a tiny park in the city center into a miracle. There even was a battle between the local authorities and citizens, when the former ones decided to build a parking lot there. Coming back to the wedding day–I had been praying for it to be in full bloom on our special day. When we only started dating, we used to walk in that area pretty often, and the tree became special for us. Such things are numerous, and I’m ready to share them, although I can start crying.

Missing people is a different story. Back home, we had to make close to zero efforts to stay in the know about our friends’ lives. Now, being an ocean away and ten hours behind, it’s hard. No chance to call and say, “how about a coffee tonight?” or “let’s go shopping together this weekend.” I have to write lifeless messages that will be read in several hours because the recipient is sleeping. I have to look in the eyes of emojis, and I can’t hug my loved ones—painful period.

First-time Events

When we were getting ready for immigration, we were searching a lot. We read and watched tons of forums and YouTube blogs to learn as many things about everyday Canadian life as possible. However, some things I couldn’t expect no matter how prepared I thought I was.

The first time I received a government letter in a kraft envelope, my heart skipped a bit. For about eight months I was anxious that something might go wrong, and we would be deprived of Permanent Resident Status. And then, it happened – I felt nothing seeing a brown envelope in our post box. I got used to being welcomed here, and my anxiety left.

Bad Accent Days

Yes, I had to take an exam to prove that I know English. Yes, I got excellent results I hadn’t expected. No, I don’t feel one hundred percent confident about my language level. I have no idea if it’s some personal issue or it’s a common thing, but I was overwhelmed the first couple of months because of… having to talk on the phone in English. 

In Russia, I had the expertise my students were looking for – my theoretical knowledge and my ability to prepare them for exams. Here, all this expertise has vanished because so many people know English better than I do. 

I even have bad accent days. Exactly like bad hair days – when whatever you do doesn’t work, and you can only accept the situation. I open my mouth and hear weird sounds that I have no intention to make, and what drives me mad is that I can’t fix it. The next day I wake up – it’s okay, I sound all right.

You, Friend

For me, you’re still a person from another world. You didn’t spend 11 years at school to apply to uni with no gap years to think about life-changing choices. You didn’t see your sister making her first steps and then celebrating her 18th birthday with the same President ruling the country.

I feel that you’re different, and your support is priceless. Sometimes I’m not sure if what I can give in return is acceptable for you. I don’t know if you want to talk for hours and hours about deep-hidden things and get emotional together. I don’t want to seem rude – that’s why you’ll often find me silently observing. But I want to see, try, discover, and grow together. Do you?