My Canada Day

Some nineteen hours since I left home, after boarding three different planes at three different locations, I finally made it across the Atlantic. A long journey it was, braving thunderstorms, missed connections, lack of sleep, and the cruel fate of forced (albeit temporary) separation from one of my suitcases full of my momentos. Still clinging onto my clothes was the scent and saltiness of the North Sea.

Though I arrived a little later than planned perhaps, last year, and on this very day, the warm breeze of a late summer’s night in Montreal blew in the winds of change. I remember my very first step on Canadian territory in my Birkenstocks. Despite the losses of the previous few months, I was fortunate to be given a new opportunity. A new country, a new city, a whole new world lay before me, waiting to be discovered. How exciting and refreshing that was!

I remember my very first meal, of couscous and shrimp brochettes, on a terrace beneath the shadows and reflections of towering skyscrapers. And I remember my very first sight of the Rodderick Gates, behind which in the months to come opened up a wealth of memories and learning at McGill.

That first night, I wandered through the unfamiliar streets of a then big and foreign city. I knew no one, and no one knew me. Cars, horns and sirens whizzed past, while the sound of random chatter and laughter passed me by, almost intensifying a growing sense of loneliness. The sky darkened, and night had fallen. And the closest thing I could call ‘home’ for the coming two weeks would be a downtown hostel.

Life hurries on, and at times I am left trailing behind trying to make sense of all that has happened. And of all that is still to come.

One year on, and I have slowly began to build up a life, a home, friendships and a sense of belonging. Right here, right here in Canada.