Canada, my adoptive land

You know, despite yesterday’s post -which was in jest, of course* – I do love it here. And by here, I mean Canada.

I am proud of being Canadian.

This country may not be perfect but it’s got many things right.

By far and large, Canadians are good people. They are nice, polite and welcoming.

Sure, there are douchebags. But douchebags can be found everywhere else in the world too. Not just in Windsor.

I have been able to be happy here in a way that could have never been possible for me in my country of origin.

Which is a sad thing to say, of course.

It is a tragedy when one can’t be happy in the land one was born, for more than one reason.

An immigrant can never truly feel at home in the new country. Not when they reach the new country as an adult. Too much of your homeland is in you by that time.

First of all, there’s the language barrier. If your new country’s mother tongue is not the same as yours, you face a huge challenge. Mastering a language is not just about leaning the grammar and expanding the lexicon. The nuances of it can many a time be a source of great frustration.

Then there are cultural barriers that also make it difficult to understand and be understood even if your command of the official language(s) is more than good.

Finally, there is a longing for your homeland, too. A little hole in your chest that can never be filled no matter how happy, settled or successful you are in your adoptive land.

However, and because of the particular circumstances of my life that led to my reasons to migrate, I believe that as immigrants go, I am as settled and contented here as they can be.

I love winter, for starters.

No, really. I do. I love snow. I love cold weather. I love winter sports.

I love the landscapes, I love the fauna and flora too.

But I love the diversity most of all. I love the Canadian mosaic. Multiculturalism is the way to go.

Living here is like being an instant traveler. A citizen of the world.

Walk a few blocks and you go from China to Italy. From Ukraine to Africa’s Horn. From Lebanon to Central America.

Hop on a bus and you’ll hear a babel of languages.

Take a stroll downtown a major city and you’ll see a sea of beautiful fabrics and headpieces.

You can taste all the foods of the world without having to set foot on plane.

It is truly a beautiful thing.

Cultural & language barriers aside, Canada is a wonderful place to be.

* The verbal abuse was real, though

4 thoughts on “Canada, my adoptive land

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