For a large group of people experiencing new things, meeting strangers in a party, trying new food, going somewhere they have never been to, is stressful. And I am one of those people. If I go to a restaurant, I prefer to order something I have tried before or I know how it would taste. If I am going to a party, I rather talk to someone whom I know. Otherwise I just silently stay around and avoid any potential eye contact.
If I am traveling, I would gather information, as much as I could, about that particular city or place. Now you probably can imagine how I was feeling when everything has been finalized about the huge change in my life and that was moving to Canada as an international student. I was super excited and super nervous at the same time. Excited, since that was my own decision and I wanted that change, I wanted that new and different experience. Nervous, because it was a new experience. Everything was new: the place, the people, the culture. For me even requesting a passport was a new thing to do. I had never had one before.
At the time, I didn't know how tough this move could be. My husband and I were two energetic people who wanted to just move forward, to explore and experience new things and to find a way to live a good life. Sometimes I think if I hadn't studied math, would I be logical enough to approve that move? If I had stayed in my dreamland in which I was living with my endless stories, would I be able to handle the emotional part of the immigration? I don't know the answer. I was leaving behind my parents, my hometown, my childhood, and after all these years, still sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and think of my mom's face, think of her crying and smiling at the same time when we were saying goodbye.
We could only pack four suitcases and I was telling myself this is my whole life that I am packing here. I wanted to bring everything - books, clothes, photo albums, but that was kind of impossible. Day after day, we packed and unpacked over and over. And every time we had to put away a few items.
I wanted to bring memories with me: my "Harry Potter" book collection which I received as a birthday gift, my blanket which my grandmother knitted herself, the painting that my friend gave to me. But I knew I would need a sleeping bag and my warm jackets more. All the way to the airport, I was thinking about all the things that I had to give up, from a small jewelry box that I couldn't pack to all my friends and family members and I was sympathizing with myself.
Our trip to Canada was the longest one in my whole life. Including all the waiting times in multiple airports, it took us almost thirty hours to finally reach Vancouver. We were so tired and we had to wait in a very long line to receive our (study) permits.
As soon as the officer called us, I realized I was not tired anymore but I was scared and nervous. That was the very first experience of speaking a different language with a native speaker who happened to be a stranger. The whole situation was new and I did not know how to deal with it. To be honest, sometimes I try to remember what questions were asked and what I said in response. But the only thing I can recall is my sweaty hands.
Here we are, I told my husband. We hugged each other for a few moments and although we never talk about it, I am sure we were thinking about the same thing. It was us with no friends, almost no money, and no experience of living a Canadian-style life. We didn't have any idea how we can make friends, find jobs, learn the culture and build a life. The only thing we had, other than each other, was four suitcases.
