Immigration (3)
As a free service to the Ministry of Citizenship and Immigration, I have written an insider’s guide to the inner workings of an idle immigrant mind in Ontario. It will help the Ministry spend more money on government-funded programs for immigrants and will also add more glossy literature to put at the airports and Service Canada Centres nationwide,
So, you’ve been planning to immigrate to Canada for a long time and can’t wait to get your application rolling. Or, you have finally got your application approved and now are counting days to arrive into Canada.
At first I thought I was reading some blog post and its comments by someone genetically superior in, say, Alberta or Manitoba, or some… er… right-minded fringe journallike the National Post from Toronto. But then I realized I don’t read those and rubbed my eyes to see that it was indeed The Toronto Star.
In my research for successful famous ‘genuine’ immigrants in Canada, I have disappointingly discovered only a few names. But perhaps I should not be too surprised. After all, even to first-rate ‘regular’ Canadians, if you gotta make it big, you gotta move to the U.S.
My definition of ‘genuine’ are those who landed just like an independent skilled worker class immigrant and then achieved something worthy enough to be famous or notable with primarily their existing education and qualifications.
Oh, and by the way, Canada is also going to elections. What this essentially means to me — a new immigrant in Toronto, Ontario — is probably what an election in Norway means to a Kangaroo farmer in Australia… not that Kangaroos are farmed in Australia, but who knows these things, eh? Besides, I’m not even a citizen to be able to cast a vote. Ha!
It’s not what you know… it’s who you know.
If you’ve followed this blog even a little, then you really don’t need an IQ over 160 to conclude that professionally I haven’t been a very successful (an understatement to the depths of hell) newcomer to this country — so far (okay I should be an optimist at least.) I ascribe this unfortunate turn of my life to the professional field I belong to: advertising creative.
The questions often pile high on your mind as you prepare to retire for the day, then lie in your bed staring into nothingness.
You reflect upon what you have accomplished – which is little, and what made you begin this journey in the first place. You reminisce the time when you could conquer the world, when you had the world in the palm of your hand. When you were the stuff stars are made of.
