The weak point in this plan was my lack of a working phone. Bride #1 declared that she needed our phone that would work in the US, and Canada. With the confidence that comes from the fact that it wouldn’t affect her (only me), she told me it wouldn’t be a problem. If there was an issue aboard the ship the sailboat people could call Crusty.
Moving 7,000+ kilometers is never easy. Doing so in times of COVID made every interaction include the word “maybe” as well as the phrase “it used to work like this.”
It grew harder and harder to see how would could ever stay long-term, and our experience renting made that path less than attractive. I tested the job market via a head hunter and soon had multiple interviews lined up with financial firms. A job for me might not get us residency, but could, perhaps, help us afford a house with a mortgage that I could leave to Things #1 and #2 to sort out once I was gone. Just after I finished cleaning up my C.V., the headhunter, a bit sheepish, called back and said everything was cancelled. No Canadian employers wanted to hire anyone who wasn’t already a permanent resident. The C.V. and it’s creative grasp of reality went back into the drawer.
Was it all stuffy and awkward? No way, eh. Before the world shut down, we very much enjoyed the ability to access things we never would have seen in Costa Rica: amateur hockey matches, fencing lessons for Thing #1, a great variety of restaurants, kayaking for crabs, seal and otter watching and, of course, poutine.
This was the moment I realized that the Canada I now inhabited was a wee bit different than the one portrayed in Strange Brew.
Anyone who has been to Victoria can attest that it is special. Too pretty to be real. Too good to be true (more on that). Every time I left I wanted to come back. Permanently.
That being said bureaucracy is a condition which neither knows or respects a border. As evidence, I give you a recap of my recent experience with the billing department of the Canadian medical system.
The parents in the movie had done some illegal (nothing evil, but they were sideways with the man). Their kids were unaware of this significant wrinkle. All they knew is that they were tired of moving in the middle of the night to another town where they would again be forced to start over with a new school, friends, etc.
I, therefore, need to find more bravery than Mr. Wolfe while also resisting the urge to go full Grandma. I do not have the luxury of being considered elderly (though I believe I qualify for AARP membership) nor do I have the cover provided by death—at least not yet.