Made it

So the day finally arrive this week…Thursday, January 30th, 2014, I became a permanent resident of Canada.

Nate and I arrived in Edmonton at the immigration building at 8:30am, not knowing what the day would hold and how long we might be there.

We "checked in" with the security officer in the assigned suite, seemingly who woke up on the painful side of the bed as the first 15-30 seconds I waited to be acknowledged as she rubbed her left shoulder, rolled her neck slowly and closed her eyes.  But alas she then got around to asking for my letter detailing my appointment date and time.  Looking at the letter she underlined with her pen the 30th…"yes, correct day" and 9:00am…"yes, correct time".

"Have a seat."

So we took two plastic chairs of a pleasing black hue lined up with back to back with another row of black plastic chairs.  We were among 15-20 other individuals.  After a number of minutes passed we heard a soft murmuring of some sort from the officer and those closest to the security officer began getting up and forming a line agains the wall.  Neither of us had actually heard any instructions as we had been seated near the other end of the hall.

So we made our way back to the officer to clarify we were supposed to be lining up with the majority and not remain seated with a few of the others.

Addressing the officer, I stated I hadn't heard her instructions and if  it had been for all for permanent residency to line up.  And she replied with a nod,
"Yes, you may line up."

Nate asked if sponsors were to line up as well?

"Yes, you can stand with her."

So we got in the back of the line.

After a few more minutes the security officer opened the locked door to another hallway and led those at the front to a certain line and said something to the those in the front (which we assume was wait here, but again still couldn't hear).

After a short bit, another woman surfaced from behind a door and quietly addressed the waiting line gesturing to a light on the ceiling behind her.  Again being disadvantaged by not being within a 2 foot radius of the speaker, I could only make out a few words "I…green…come…window" before the employee exited back through the door and I saw her surface behind one of the glass stations ahead.  The first individual in line approached.  Though powers of deduction, I gathered when she turned on the green light she wanted the next person in line to approach the window.  There were a few other lines that began forming adjacent to us in the hallway,  but for what I do not know.  The other lines were being helped one at a time at other glass stations with no lights or different lights above them.

Slowly we moved up in line.  Some people taking longer than others, some taking just moments and seemed to be sent off to do something else rather quickly.  Another couple behind us in line questioned what was happening and if we heard the instructions…we filled them in on what we thought we knew,

"Green light, Go."

We eventually got our green light and advanced to the station.

I showed my letter but she just asked for my photo.  In the letter I had been requested to bring 2 permanent resident photos to the appointment today.  I pulled out one of the photos and slid it over.  Within a few moments she slid the picture under the plastic photo sheet for dimensions and said, "These are too big, you need to go downstairs and have then retaken, and then come back up"

Surprised, I then figured out that all of those very quick sessions in front of us, where all being told they needed new pictures taken.  I had gone to photo studio in town (with my letter and all specific instructions for photographers) to get the photos done and they seemed very familiar with the process and even had their own clear plastic photo dimensions sheet to check sizes on.

It seems to me they need to send out some clearer parameters in the letter to be shown to the photographers taking these photos if so many are "unusable".  But as the couple behind us in line stated as they also were sent downstairs to have their photos retaken in the conveniently located photo department…It must be a nice side business with a captive audience all funneled through for all the re-takes.

It would have been helpful, if our letters mentioned we could get our pictures taken on-sight to save a few steps and also money.

After my second set of photos was ready we make our way back upstairs to wait in line again, for the woman to look at us and says, you didn't need to see me again, you can just sit back down outside.  I said "That's all we needed to do here? You don't need to check the photos I just had done?"

"I check the photo sizes, and I don't need to check the ones from here, they know what they are doing.  They will be correct."

So the last 45m of standing in line was just a simple photo size check.  Hmmm…seems like that could have easily been done at check in…but who am I to critique?  So we walk past the couple that we know will be joining back in the waiting area of plastic chairs in a few moments, and wait again.

Soon names start to be called and individuals, family groups, and couples are shown into rooms for what I assume are the interviews.  But again, no one actually tells you what is happening.

Soon I hear my name.  "Leslie?"

And we are the ones ushered into the room.

I'm asked for my photos, passport, and work permit.

She asks me a series of questions…"Have I ever been convicted of a crime?  Have I ever been denied entry to Canada?" etc.

She tells me I will be receiving a form today to hold the place of my permanent resident card until it arrives in 6-8 weeks.  Before she hands me that form she asks if I have questions.

The only questions that's been circulating in my mind since I received my interview date is will I be able to travel freely after this date to be able to make a quick trip back to Indiana before I start working, so I ask if this form allows that.  As she hand over the form with "NOT VALID FOR TRAVEL" she supports it by saying, "No, once you received your official card you are free to come and go, but this form does not allow that."

A few days have passed and I have allowed myself to acknowledge and feel the disappointment of the trip not to be.  But also to carefully wrap those hopes back up, tucked them away, to know they can be unwrapped again and experienced later this year.

I am a permanent resident of Canada.

I have found work and will be starting next week.

Heck, I even found out I will be making more than I agreed on when I accepted that position as Alberta has raised wages in my field in the last few days.

There is much to be thankful for, and there continues to be much to look forward to as well.

So while you can't quite call me Canadian….you might say I'm starting to belong.