Hello. It’s me again. A decade gone, and still Canada’s most obstinately cynical immigrant. Whining and wailing and criticising from day one. Never accepting the status quo. Forever wanting it better. Always muttering and mumbling to oneself through this stupid blog. And hoping someone or the other takes a note here and there from the often cryptically spewed self-righteous vitriol that is otherwise known as a diary of my perpetual failure.
The following is inspired by recent discussions under counselling on a variety of issues including — but not limited to — life and death, work and play, love and hate — plus other assorted facets of a lowly “immigrant experience.”
The new occupation list for the much anticipated Federal Skilled Trades Program reads like a – ahem – pipe dream of epic proportions. May be the conservatives were missing Richard Nixon’s plumbers (remember those?) After all, Stephen Harper has won a Nixon Award!
You have to hand it to our esteemed Conservative far-right-wing MP Sir Jason Kenney and those who are enjoying the party in Ottawa.
I mean, he is almost single-handedly leading a devout, medieval-era crusade to rid Canada of the scum and heretics (those foreign-looking dirty buggers called Immigrants) that his pure Canadian constituents in Alberta have elected (and appointed) him to do.
Canada Immigrant Blog: Dr Trayn, what is meant by Canadian Experience and how important is it. Our readers specifically requested us to ask you that.
Dr Trayn: According to The Immigrant’s Glossary of Canadian Terms, Canadian Experience is defined as:
As a gawking new immigrant fresh off the boat, your first few months in Canada are bound to be full of wide-eyed excitement, bewilderment and surprises over so many new things. As you come to grips with the nitty-gritties of your new life, there are so many new terms and phrases which may confuse and befuddle your-preferred-sweet-deity out of you.
The recession and financial crisis have put tremendous pressure on the Canadian job market even for ‘real’ born-and-bred Canadians. Of course, for immigrants, that means ever more pressure to find employment and choosing a career when even during hunky-dory times they faced such scarcity of work — their high educational and professional backgrounds notwithstanding.
I know two persons in this entire country, literally. One is a friend and the other is a sibling on the other side of the continent. In addition, two more people on my cellphone’s contact-list are really acquaintances with whom I have verbal speech once every 12 weeks or a dozen fortnights, whichever is less. When I left the mother-ship to beam up to Planet Canada, I had bid farewell to all my half-a-dozen friends and relatives there as well, for good. A couple of them I speak to once every six months. But that’s another story.