In February this year I received a big brown manilla envelope brandishing a red maple leaf. There could be no doubt that it contained my final emmigration papers for Canada. They were what I had been waiting for with immeasurable anxiety for two years, but, even as I held the envelope in my hands, I was hesitant to open it. I knew that in doing so I would also be closing a door on the life I had known in Africa for 24 years.
It's hard to reconcile myself to the fact that this was just a few months ago, since now, after five weeks of being in my adoptive country, I almost feel like a local. Admittedly though I simply need to open my mouth and everyone in earshot knows that I hail from some place other than North America! Most people mistakenly guess that I'm from England or Australia and, needless to say, a few eyebrows are raised when I announce that I'm a newly-arrived immigrant direct from the veld of South Africa!
The question most people ask, or at least would like to ask, is "why"? Why leave South Africa and why come to Canada? But even now I don't think I could give a standard, concise reply. After a brief sojourn here in 1991 Canada really beckoned. I returned to South Africa a bleary-eyed 22-year old brimming with the enthusiasm and excitement of all I had gleaned abroad, only to quickly fall into the uncertain mood of the country. Consequently I joined the ranks of South Africans contemplating whether to stay or go.
In the midst of all this indecision things just seemed to fall into place for me. The time was right, I was young and free as the wind, Canada was already in my blood, I had family in Montreal stretching out their arms to help me and my inquisitive nature as a journalist urged me to take the proverbial plunge. And so I did and here I am a veritable child of Africa starting to take my first few wavering steps in this new land.
Not that I mind the afore-mentioned curiousity of the locals. Instead I am finding it to be an integral part of the congenial Canadian nature I have discovered so far. To begin with I was a little weary of just what kind of reception I would find here, but it seems I couldn't have stumbled on friendlier turf if I tried.
Maybe I'm a little wrapped up in the wonderful newness of it all, but it seems that "bienvenue" is the local motto. Everyone, without exception, has wished me luck and when they hear me fumbling along in my infantile French patiently wait or switch to English to accomodate me.
Africa has always seemed to have a mystical appeal for most and while South Africa does have its rich share of tawny wilderness, wildlife and a vivid ethnic culture, it's not so far removed from Canada as most might think. Agreed snow isn't exactly on the South African climatic agenda, but there are an abundance of similarities.
Unlike the cramped, old-fashioned style of Europe, the two countries by their size and relative newness, share the same spaciousness and openness. Everything is big and wide with acres of countryside and miles of open road. There is too a resemblance in the suburbs, streets, gardens and houses. In fact some days when I see people thriving in the summer weather, working in their gardens or playing sports, I wonder if I ever really left South Africa.
It is all very well to marvel at these parallels in the glory of summer of course, but, I'm assured, the snow will come, and when it comes it's with a vengeance. When the winters are described to me, admittedly I do cower down and wonder how a warm-blooded import from Africa will endure the Artic freeze!
Another factor to contend with is the language question. In the heart of francophone territory it's plainly evident that the more versed I am in French the better. In South Africa I too had to learn a second language - the Dutch-derived Afrikaans, even though I originate from the very English town of Durban on the Natal coast. Just like South Africa it seems that the language issue in Canada is strongly affiliated to cultural pride and heritage. Although the Quebec politics remains an enigma to me, the Quebecois fervour for independence is strikingly reminiscent of the Afrikaaners', somewhat controversial, outcry for their own homeland.
Culturally speaking as a Jewess I seem to have reached a Mecca of activity in Montreal. With changing times the Durban Jewish community has dwindled and the hub of Jewish life in Montreal makes it seem as though I've come out of drought into a flood.
I don't think I will over come to terms with thhe comparative sense of safety here. It's such a relief and a shattering contrast to the general fear and frenzy for security South Africa has plunged into following a steep upsurge in crime. Alarms, barricading walls and security gates are very much the order of the day there and the lack of them here is a vivid contrast. It's such a welcome balm to be able to walk alone in the evenings, to forget to lock doors and even to just feel safe!
There's no doubt that South Africa has changed since its momentous elections. Noticeably a tense cloud lifted to make way for a new stability.
I miss this South Africa. Saying goodbye to it and my parents obviously cut deep, unlike the flippant farewells one makes before embarking on a holiday.
I'm still relishing in all things Canadian however and it's especially encouraging to experience the hospitality of family and the neighbourliness of the locals.
Like all immigrants I guess I've jumped into the unknown, but, as they say, "c'est la vie".
Caption
At a Zulu kraal not far from Durban when thoughts of Canada couldn't have been further from muy mind.