Coming to Canada.

After countless forms that needs to be filled up and signed and days and months of waiting,  I finally got that piece of paper that says I'm confirmed as a permanent resident of Canada.

It's been four years since I first set foot in this country. I remember seeing the lights of Vancouver for the first time, as the plane prepared to land, and I realized that, there's no turning back.  I had no idea as to what lies ahead of me. It has been a learning experience, as I eased myself  into the Canadian way of life. And I'm still learning every day. I have to remind myself from time to time that I only inhabit a small portion of this country. But to keep it simple, whenever someone ask me where I'm at now, my answer is always, "I'm in Canada."

I am grateful for Mama. I get to go to school and come to Canada. Although, she thinks I'm too serious. :-)

I've always wanted to go to New York for a visit. But I never thought about the possibility that I get to move away from home and live somewhere, a thousand miles away from family and friends, in an entirely different time zone and climate. Coming to Canada has its upside and downside, like everything else in life. "You can't have your cake and eat it too." proves to be true.

People I've met are curious to know if I like it here. I always say that I do. I like the temperate climate. I like the library. Although being away from home is a compromise I have to deal with. I miss my family and the few friends I have, from time to time. And I miss the food. I came from a country where no meal is complete without rice. It took me awhile to get used to eating salads and other kind of vegetables. One day, someone asked me if I cook my own food, I replied no. And she was like, don't you miss it? I told her, I miss it, sometimes. But I learn to adjust and adapt. Besides, my sister cook Filipino food when we hang out.

My sister and I don't agree on a lot of things. But that doesn't change the fact that I learned some things from her, like how to put on a jacket, without having the shirt sleeves all bunched up underneath. :-)

When it was certain that I'd be coming to Canada, I decided to read more about the country to keep myself abreast with what to expect. Let's just say that my reading helped a bit. But still, it didn't prepare me for all the experiences I encountered along the way.  A lot has change for me in the span of four years. I like to think that coming to Canada made me a better person. It made me more responsible. Being here made me look at my family in a different light and appreciate them. Then I learned how to drive and got my driver's license. I  get to run a marathon. I had the opportunity to work for three different wonderful elderly ladies, whom impacted my life in ways I didn't expect. No amount of reading could have prepared me, for the experience  and realization ( which came later )-- that I am capable of caring for another person. That I can be emotionally invested in someone. And I don't mean this, in the sense of just doing my job. That I will learn to like animals, especially Moxie and Nakita, and sometimes, prefer their company. That coming to Canada would test my patience, when one day, I had to stand in the rain, while I wait for the bus. And on another occasion literally ran after one.

Dennis and Rita make my life easier. I am and will always be thankful. 

Before you doze off and fall flat on your face while reading this, I'll bring this post to an end by saying a word of thanks to the people who make it possible for me to be here.  I can't take all the credit for having survived in a foreign country, that's altogether different from the one where I was born and grew up. I owe it to all the generous and kind people I have had the privilege of meeting. It's worth mentioning that without my aunt ( whom we call Mama ), I wouldn't be in Canada right now. Even if we don't see eye to eye on a lot of things, it won't discount the fact that she  made it possible for me to come here. To my sister, who made it easier for me to adjust to my new life here, even if sometimes, she drives me crazy. And most of all, I wouldn't be able to comply with the requirements to become a permanent resident if not for Mary, Nora and Nancy and their respective families. They trusted me and welcomed me in their homes.

First time camping, lessons learned.

 Happy campers? I think, for the most part. :-)

I've never been to camping with my folks and by folks, I meant,my aunt, sister and my aunt's friend, Rhea. So when Rhea suggested that we'd go to Hornby Island and set up camp for two days, I was excited. I've never been to Hornby Island in the first place and I'd love to try camping. I realized that it entails a lot of work--planning and organizing, and most of all, patience and a sense of humor. We shared a lot of funny moments during our stay. We were amateurs but we made the most of what we had.

Allow me to share some valuable lessons I learned during our two-day stint up close with nature....

Never trust the weather forecast. What the weatherman says like a week or a few days before can drastically change in a heartbeat. I learned this the hard way, or should I say, we did. Our first foray into camping turned out to be a not too pleasant experience ( and the kind that we hoped for ) when we were caught off guard with the rain during our stay. Of all the days to be raining, it had to be on our first day and the next day. Fortunately, we managed to set up our tents before the rain turned into a light downpour. We were also thankful for the trees in our campsite that provided a bit of cover. But all in all, I still enjoyed it.

 Happily played "photographer" the entire time and met Ke$ha on the beach.

Be prepared. I find this very important only after. We didn't anticipate the weather changing so we came with just clothes appropriate for hot summer days. We didn't realize that it gets cold during the night, especially when the temperature starts to dip low. The first night, I tossed and turned and was cold, I stayed half-awake most of the time during the night. I couldn't wait for morning to come.

Just roll with the punches. I'd be lying if I say that I was comfortable going to the outhouse or lay down so close to the ground, with just an air mattress in between. I miss the comfort of my own bed. Then there's the issue of not being able to take a normal shower ( the kind I'm used to ). After two days, I feel dirty. I dreaded the time when I need to go to the washroom because I don't like to look at the black void underneath. But then, I think that's the point of camping, to get away from the "comforts" of daily life. Frankly, it was kind of  relaxing to sit on the folding chair, with my feet up on the bench and a drink on my hand, while I listened to the different sounds around me -the rustle of leaves as a light breeze fanned the trees; the somewhat annoying sound of the crows overhead; the happy shrieks of kids while they play at a nearby clearing and the soft rumble of an occasional car as it navigated around the campsite. Its cool that for once, I didn't have to think or worry about anything. My cellphone was stashed safely in my backpack.

 After two days and two nights, we were ready to go. We couldn't wait to get back to our routines. We had breakfast first before we pack our stuff. And after we made sure that everything was in order and our belongings safely stashed in the car, we were off.

I told my sister that I like camping and would like to do it again. She said she liked it too, except for the part when she had to crawl to get into the tent. As for me, I like it. My only concern was going to the outhouse, but I think its way better than having to squat on the bush.Till next time. :-)

Hey, brother and sister.

"I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at." - Maya Angelou

There was a time, especially during high school, when I used to be embarrassed whenever someone asked me questions like, "How many are you in the family?' or "How many brothers and sisters do you have?' I was like, not again. Now, when someone ask me these same questions, my reply to the first would be a brief "Nine." and the latter would take a considerable time while I do the math then I'd say, "I have six sisters and two brothers. And I'm the eldest." Both of my answers would be met with surprise or a "Wow" reaction. And I'm like, yes, tell me about it.

I still can't figure out how my mother ever managed to have nine kids. While growing up, I remembered her being pregnant, then she'd be gone for a few days and when she came back home, she'd have a baby in her arms. I have never seen her in labor or wailing and mouthing off expletives ( just like shown in the movies or TV shows ) because she was in pain. When I was old enough to know what was going on, the arrival of a new baby, like every couple of years or so, has lost its appeal. I started to ask questions and resented the fact that our family kept growing. Of course, my questions were ignored. I heard talks that my parents wanted to have a son, so that was it. True enough, after seven daughters, my two brothers arrived and that's how we get to be nine.

"Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago — the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider.... It doesn’t seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we’ve traveled." - Jane Mersky Leder

Once, someone told me that it must be fun to be in a big family. I thought about that remark for a long time. I think it depends on how you define "fun".  It was never fun for me, at least back then. Everything has to be shared equally and to the last bit or else there'd be "war". My mother has become adept at making sure that food was divided in equal portions,  among us kids. I remembered a particular incident, when she had to forgo her share because one of my younger sister or brother ( I can't remember anymore ) wanted more of something. As I watched her silently, I realized then, that she's not just some woman who had babies all the time. She's our "Nanay" and will always be.

I grew up knowing that I have to keep myself in line and have to set a good example for my younger siblings. My parents didn't have to talk to me about this but it was assumed and I figured that since I'm the eldest, it is expected of me. There were times that I wish I have an older brother or sister. And even now, I still think how nice it would be to have an older sibling.  Wishful thinking, I suppose.

"Siblings are the people we practice on, the people who teach us about fairness and cooperation and kindness and caring — quite often the hard way."- Pamela Dugdale

One day, my brother and I had the chance to chat on Facebook and after the usual exchange of Hi's and How are you's, we get to talk about things, way back when he was younger. He reminded me how ill-tempered I was and how scared they were when I get angry. And I thought to myself, he remembers.  One time when I found out that my mother was pregnant for the eighth time, I gave her the cold shoulder. I didn't talk to her for a few days but I also looked up baby boy names, secretly. I wasn't sure if it was just pure coincidence, my mother gave birth to a baby boy. They were all happy. I was happy. A few years after that, another baby boy arrived. For some reason, I doted on my younger brothers. When I was away at school, I used to save part of my allowance so I could buy presents for them when I come home for a visit. Too bad they both didn't get to spend a lot of time with our father because he passed away too soon.

"Our siblings. They resemble us just enough to make all their differences confusing, and no matter what we choose to make of this, we are cast in relation to them our whole lives long." - Susan Scarf Merrell

I don't see my younger siblings as often now since I moved away from home. We don't talk much. They're miles away, they may as well be in a different world. But whenever we do get to talk, I am transported back in time and sometimes, it feels like I've never left.

One day, while I watched the movie "Cheaper by the Dozen", I thought about my brothers and sisters and was inspired to write. Hence, this post. I guess the movie reminded me of them, who knows.