one small step

I was nervous, stressed as the minutes ticked toward 1330hrs, 15 August 2011. I rushed to my office to get a last minute documentation from my professor, and received many hugs and pats on the back from my friend, and many "you'll be just fine"s from my colleagues.

Even so, sitting in that waiting room waiting doe my name to be called seemed to take forever.

Eventually, a lady called my name, and our eyes met, and we would sit across each other from a desk for the next 40min or so, with a colleague of hers sitting in the back, watching the whole interview take place.

She began. From the first impression, she didn't have the friendliest of face or make a very warm impression. But she was articulate and spoke French clearly and slowly so even I could understand, which allayed my fears. Most questions were about my education and work experience, as well as work prospects here in Quebec. I answered her, telling her all my experiences, and showed her letters of recommendation, one of which was written by my former boss, who was a Quebecoise. That made a positive impression indeed.

I had expected questions on Quebec culture, history or even being asked my opinion of the thorny issue of independence... but none of those came up. Instead, she asked me about the topic of my thesis, and what I find difficult most of all in my research, which I was unprepared for, especially in language I have only a basic command of. Even so, I explained (or tried to at least...) in French, and she somehow understood.

At one point she typed on her computer for a good few minutes. That didn't look right, I thought, but then she turned around and began to compliment me on my level of French (she said it was very "fluide", which as a friend later would say is not proper French, but I guess means "flowing", or fluent). Of course I need to improve my French skills, and learn more vocabulary, but the basic grammar and pronunciation is sound, and she was very surprised. As was I, and I smiled when she said that.

From one moment complimenting me on my level of French, came the next moment. "Congratulations," she said with a smile, "You have successfully obtained your CSQ" (Quebec Selection Certificate). I smiled, and smiled, "Merci infiniment," I said, "Merci, merci, merci..." 

I left the interview with a piece of paper in my hand. A piece of paper with my name on it. A moment of pride it was, a moment of happiness and sense of achievement I have not felt in a long, long time. I needed that, needed to feel and savour that, even if that were to disappear quickly. But I needed that to remind myself that I still have it within me... to work hard, to put effort into something, and to succeed.

It was not as if I spent a lot of time preparing for the interview, but over the last week or so, I have been reviewing my documents, and with the help of two friends, I have been jotting down on paper and mentally sentences in simple French to introduce myself and 'sell' myself.

I guess deep down inside, I somehow knew I would obtain the right to stay on in the country as a skilled worker. But I needed to prove myself, and to show myself that I could do it. All my experiences, all my diplomas, all those years spent living in different countries, all those languages I speak... it is as if I have spent my whole life preparing for this moment, to be assessed and scrutinised by a society, by a country, with its own rules and regulations, with its needs and demands of what it means to play a role here.

And how wonderful it is to know that I am welcome in this country. How wonderful it is to know that this country values my skills and talents and welcomes me to be a part of this society based on immigrants and tolerance and equality.

It feels wonderful to belong, as I said during my interview... to belong, and to feel at home. And the piece of paper with my name of it is a small step to securing my sense of belonging, to permanently building my home here in Canada.