Received: (qmail 61246 invoked from network); 29 Jun 2002 09:46:49 -0000
Received: from unknown (66.218.66.218) by m14.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 29 Jun 2002 09:46:49 -0000
Received: from unknown (HELO n8.grp.scd.yahoo.com) (66.218.66.92) by mta3.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 29 Jun 2002 09:46:49 -0000
X-eGroups-Return: lsksuresh@...
Received: from [66.218.67.190] by n8.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 29 Jun 2002 09:46:49 -0000
X-eGroups-Approved-By: jaybee555
X-Sender: lsksuresh@...
X-Apparently-To: agathiyar@egroups.com
Received: (EGP: mail-8 0 7 4); 29 Jun 2002 08:47:38 -0000
Received: (qmail 97100 invoked from network); 29 Jun 2002 08:47:38 -0000
Received: from unknown (66.218.66.218) by m1.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 29 Jun 2002 08:47:38 -0000
Received: from unknown (HELO tomts17-srv.bellnexxia.net) (209.226.175.71) by mta3.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 29 Jun 2002 08:47:38 -0000
Received: from pavilion ([64.229.145.84]) by tomts17-srv.bellnexxia.net (InterMail vM.5.01.04.19 201-253-122-122-119-20020516) with SMTP id <20020629084734.YLOY4312.tomts17-srv.bellnexxia.net@pavilion>; Sat, 29 Jun 2002 04:47:34 -0400
Message-ID: <000701c21f49$b86510a0$0200a8c0@...>
To:
Subject: Faith and fear: A family prepares for Canada
Date: Sat, 29 Jun 2002 04:48:15 -0400
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="Windows-1252"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable
X-Priority: 3
X-MSMail-Priority: Normal
X-Mailer: Microsoft Outlook Express 5.50.4522.1200
X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4522.1200
From: "L. Suresh Kumar-LSK"
Reply-To: "L. Suresh Kumar-LSK"
X-Yahoo-Group-Post: member; u=107478063
X-Yahoo-Profile: lsksuresh
X-Yahoo-Message-Num: 18871
=================================================================
the last few paragraphs below, explain the stark realities of life in canada.
=================================================================
http://www.thestar.ca/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=
thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=
1025206057529&call_page=TS_News&call_pageid=
968332188492&call_pagepath=News/News&col=968793972154
Thestar.com > News
Jun. 29, 2002. 12:52 AM
Faith and fear: A family prepares for Canada
By Sonia Verma - Staff Reporter
NEW DELHI — It is early morning and oven hot when Geeta Rijhwani
rises in a house that has already begun to feel empty. The phone
is disconnected and the furniture sold. A monsoon breeze picks up
outside. The forecast calls for dust.
Her husband, Gulraj, sips his morning tea while their two sons
sleep. The other day, someone stole Arjun's red bicycle from the
marble terrace outside. One less thing to get rid of, Geeta
thinks to herself, sidestepping four empty suitcases gaping open
like potholes on her kitchen floor.
Mentally, she fills them with all that they can't leave behind —
her spices, Arjun's collection of model cars, hot plates to make
chapatis, her wedding jewelry, her husband's suits.
Soon they will have to pack. In less than two weeks their journey
begins. On July 12, at 8:45 a.m., the Rijhwanis will board a
plane at Indira Gandhi Airport with those suitcases and most of
their life's savings, bound for Canada.
Gulraj, 46, Geeta, 40, and their two sons Karan, 16, and Arjun,
10, were issued permanent resident visas early this month, before
Ottawa announced rules that will change the tide of the 250,000
immigrants who arrive each year.
The Rijhwanis have no family ties in Canada, no job offers and
few financial resources. Under the new regulations, which favour
those who have existing connections, they probably wouldn't
qualify.
Geeta braids her hair and applies a fresh crimson bindi to her
forehead. The servant woman arrives, late again, balancing a
bundle of folded laundry on her head. Geeta quickly kisses Karan
and Arjun goodbye and drives to work on her scooter, a length of
her pink sari waving like a flag behind her.
The children are too young to understand why they are leaving
home, she thinks. The farthest her family has traveled is to
Dubai, to visit Geeta's brother a decade ago. Arjun knows only
that he will miss his cousin Malank, who is too big to pack with
his prized cars.
Karan will miss his friends, the ones he grew up with playing
cricket in the dusty field near the temple as the sun sank. Karan
hopes Canada will provide him "a better education and more
opportunities." Arjun just hopes the "air is clean."
"Here, there is no future for us, but in Canada the future is
bright," says Gulraj, an affable man with an easy smile. "It will
be a struggle for us at first, but I know we will succeed.
"What I have read and heard from many people is that Canada is
one of the best countries to reside at present. The U.N. report
says they have a world-class education system, their health
system is one of the best in the world, and Canada is not a
polluted country."
"You get a lot of opportunities to upgrade your skills there,
which is not possible here. Our children can get a good
education, which is very difficult in India. People there are
secure. Here, you must worry constantly about your safety," he
says.
"Canadians are good-natured and friendly," adds Geeta. "I believe
there will be people there who will help us settle and, of
course, we will work hard to contribute to Canada and make it a
better place."
If Geeta is frightened of the move, she's won't admit it. But
privately, her husband believes she is. "Everything she has come
to know about Canada has been through me. She has never herself
tried to browse and find out more about Canada," Gulraj says.
"Why? One reason is maybe that she's a little scared."
Some nights when the heat and quiet suffocate sleep, their minds
fill with questions.
Will Geeta be able to buy fresh coriander in Canada? Can Indian
women wear saris to work? Will Karan attend a good school? Will
Arjun make friends? Will they find jobs? How long will it take to
settle? Are Indians treated like second-class citizens in Canada?
Will people hate us for coming? Will there be others like us?
Canada issues more visas to India than to any other country,
except China. The New Delhi visa office approves roughly three-
quarters of the applications it receives, a number steadily
rising. Last year, nearly 28,000 Indians made the same journey as
the Rijhwanis, settling mostly in Mississauga, Brampton and
Surrey, B.C.
The night before, Gulraj scoured the online classifieds of
Toronto newspapers for jobs and apartments. He figures they will
rent initially, until they save enough to buy a small house,
perhaps in six months. A basement apartment, he calculates, will
run them $1,000 a month.
His image of Canada is a composite, pieced together from several
sources: the glossy brochure from his immigration consultant, Web
sites and Canadian government information. Based on this, he
ranked Canada as his destination of choice, in line with recent
U.N. reports that ranked Canada as the best country in the world
in which to live — reports Gulraj takes as gospel.
It is 10 a.m. when Gulraj leaves for work, shutting the iron gate
behind him and emptying a bucket that catches the drip from the
leaky air conditioner onto the broken pavement. His entire life
has been lived on this narrow street.
In Canada, he heard, families are scattered across thousands of
miles. Unmarried daughters move from their father's homes, sons
come home only at Christmas and parents are left alone in state-
run homes when they become old and sick. Most of his family lives
in this one square block, drifting in and out of each other's
living rooms in a constant tide.
`It will be a struggle for us at first, but I know we
will succeed.'
Gulraj Rijhwani
In one hand he carries his lunch, a container of warm chapatis
and Geeta's spicy dahl. In the other, a worn manila envelope with
immigration papers and old bank statements. Today he has to close
his accounts, apply for income tax clearance and pick up his
international driver's license.
Road construction has snarled traffic, the air soupy with
exhaust. An angry chorus of horns and hollers rises above
guttural calls of mango, milk and vegetable vendors.
Gulraj drives his white four-door Suzuki sedan past the frenzied
market where Geeta buys groceries every month. Past the Hindu
temple where they were married, where he plays tabla at Tuesday
prayers.
His eyes are slightly bloodshot from the air pollution and his
nerves are frayed by the time he pulls into work, a 40-minute
drive from home.
A senior sales manager at a midsized Indian pharmaceutical
company, Gulraj has 25 years of experience. Fifty people report
to him from 18 drug distribution depots across the country. He
has an expense account, a secretary, a cellphone and an
assistant. He hasn't told his colleagues he's leaving yet, only
his boss, who is in Germany on business.
"He wished me luck and told me he would keep this chair vacant
for six months to see how well I settle there," Gulraj says. "If
things don't work out, he says I can come back."
Geeta's worked as a teller for the Indian state bank since she
married 17 years ago. Her father replied to a matrimonial ad
Gulraj listed in a newspaper. During their 100-day engagement, he
would pick her up and go for lunch at five-star hotels in the
diplomatic enclave.
"But I have made up my mind to leave, and it's better to forget
anything sentimental," he says, pressing a button behind his
computer. Moments later, a man appears with steamy cups of sugar
tea.
"Here, my life is comfortable and I am the boss of my own show,"
Gulraj reasons. "There, I will be a subordinate. I will have to
start from scratch."
Together, Geeta and he earn about $1,500 (U.S) a month, a
comfortable salary by Indian standards. They own a car, a
scooter, a computer, a washing machine and a television.
When they got their visas, they sold their second-storey flat and
all furniture except a few plastic deck chairs and two
mattresses. They are staying in a rented apartment.
On their visa application, the Rijhwanis listed their assets at
$60,000. They are initially allowed to bring $36,000 to Canada to
help them settle.
"They are well placed as far as Indian standards are concerned,"
says Geeta's brother Gulshan Dinani. "Both are earning good
salaries. There is no need to go, that is my personal feeling."
For Gulraj there are many reasons to go, but the decision wasn't
easy. The process was costly and lengthy: a written application,
an interview and medical exam. It's supposed to take nine months.
For the Rijhwanis, it took three years and more than $3,000
(U.S.).
A 50 per cent increase in applications flooding into Canada's New
Delhi immigration office in the past two years is partly to
blame, according to officials. The Rijhwanis were among the last
wave of applicants to be issued visas before non-essential staff
were evacuated earlier this month, under the threat of war with
Pakistan.
The frustrating wait has forced some immigrant hopefuls to avoid
the Canadian backlog by applying to countries such as New Zealand
and Australia, where waits are as short as six months. Worldwide,
there is a backlog of 300,000 people trying to enter Canada, the
majority applying from New Delhi and Beijing.
"Our lives are on hold until we hear from the High Commission,"
says Gulraj's nephew Sanjay, who sent in his family's application
1 1/2 years ago. "I am only happy that Gulraj was able to get his
visa when he did."
And when his call finally came, Gulraj kissed his wife and called
his uncle.
"Every decision in my life is guided by two questions," he says.
"Is it my destiny, and what would my uncle say?"
The answer to the first was clear. Inspecting his right palm,
Gulraj determined his lifeline took a sudden veer south before
fading into his wrist.
"According to this, I must leave," Gulraj reasoned. "If it is my
destiny, I must stand up and take the first step."
`Of course, we will work hard to contribute to Canada
and make it a better place.'
Geeta Rijhwani
The answer to the second question was less clear. After partition
in 1947, when Pakistan and India divided, Gulraj's father led his
family on a perilous train trip from their home in Larkanda,
Pakistan, to this neighbourhood, a crooked grid of half-built
homes carved out of jungle. The Rijwanhis had to start from
scratch.
Gulraj was just 18 when his father succumbed to heart disease. As
Hindus, they are still barred from traveling to Muslim Pakistan
on tourist visas.
Still, his uncle Pribhu longs to return to the marble home of his
childhood.
"I only want to go there and grab a fistful of earth," he says.
When Gulraj told his uncle their visas had cleared immigration,
he half expected the steely 66-year-old to advise him against
uprooting his family again. Pribhu did the opposite.
"If you ask 100 people to follow a straight line they will
without deviating," Pribhu told his brother's son. "But if life
presents itself as a straight road, put some curves inside and
then try to steer. If you're hard-working, success is bound to
touch your feet."
Gulraj sent his resume to more than 50 Canadian pharmaceutical
companies and keeps track of their responses in a bound folder
labelled "Intended occupations of Gulraj Rijhwani, as per Imm008
form submitted for Immigration to Canada and a list of potential
employers searched through Internet Web sites."
He has yet to receive a job offer, but remains hopeful.
"It is difficult for someone to hire me without knowing me. Once
I am there, with my experience I am confident I will find some
work," he says.
"They will struggle at first, but they will be happy here," says
Geeta's sister Pushpa Chawani, who left almost 20 years ago and
now lives in a two-storey home in Long Island, N.Y.
By the time they have bought a house, Geeta figures they will be
more than 50 years old.
They will have to buy a car, enrol the boys in a school and learn
how to speak English without their Sindhi accent. When Gulraj
decided to immigrate, he paid $4,000 (U.S.) for a course offered
through an immigration consultant to help him with the
application.
At a week-long seminar preparing for visa interviews, the
consultant showed his class a bar graph projecting their
employment prospects in Canada.
The graph shows a precipitous drop on landing in Canada, a
levelling off period of six months to a year and afterwards a
final incline that angles optimistically off the chart.
"We tell all of our clients that it takes time to settle in
Canada and they shouldn't go with any false expectations," says
Col. B.S. Sandhu, director of one of India's largest immigration
consulting firms.
Gulraj has been e-mailing former classmates who left earlier to
get a sense of what Canada is like. Before he leaves work every
day, Gulraj separates the letters into two stacks.
"I show Geeta the good letters and hide the bad ones in a secret
place."
An architect now earns minimum wage as a telemarketer.
"I apologize for not responding to your many e-mails," he writes.
"The main reason was that my work shift hours are very odd and
I sometimes don't even get enough time to have my meals ..."
Another man writes that he had to settle for factory work because
people couldn't understand his accent. His wife is still looking
for work.
"In my almost 1 1/2 years here I am yet to get a job in my
field," he wrote. "In fact I am so frustrated I am actively
considering returning to India ..."
Another man simply stopped corresponding. Gulraj later learned he
had returned after just three months because he was "scared to
see the winter."
He places this letter on top of the pile to show his wife:
"I have bought a three-bedroom townhouse. It is a Duplex house in a
good location near the subway and shopping malls. It is very easy
to buy a house here. Not like India, no chakkars," the letter
reads. "You and your family, I think, will find happiness here."
=================================================================
