Peter. Malasia

It seems that there are a few success stories of immigrants from non-English speaking countries. There are many more not-so successful stories, and – judging by the contributions to this web site – more than a handful of terrible, terrible stories of failure and regret. My own story includes all of the above.

I immigrated to Canada in 1968; a starry eyed, curious, and naive 19 year old Austrian fellow with eight years of basic schooling, and a journeyman diploma in printing. It wasn’t long before I realized that the «sorry, no Canadian experience» was only a convenient excuse for not hiring suitably qualified «foreigners». Like many of my fellow immigrants, I worked in many God-awful menial jobs (social scientists have a word for it: underemployed). And like many of my fellow immigrants, I worked hard for every rung up the proverbial ladder. In 1973, I proudly accepted Canadian citizenship (only to realize afterwards, that I automatically lost my former citizenship – Austria does not recognize dual citizenship).

In 1979, – after a lot of educational «catching up» at night school – I graduated from the University of Alberta with a bachelor degree in vocational education, followed by months of unexpected unemployment, dwindling financial resources, and crushing disbelief. Any occasional work was in the form of short term contracts (you know, no benefits). In 1985, I graduated with a master of education degree, followed by – you guessed it – unemployment and short-term, meaningless, and dead-end jobs (does an «MS» degree stand for «More of the Same»?).

From 1987 to 1997 I worked on various overseas projects (including a 2 year stint with CIDA on Timor Island), ironically teaching Canadian «expertise» and «know-how» to people in developing countries. In 1998, I returned to Canada, hoping to stay in Canada at last, and after six months of unemployment (and no UI benefits), I was offered a position as Dean at an Institute of Technology. After two years, the institute restructured (again!), and I was out of a job without any warning or stated reason. At that time, I was 50 years old, unemployed (again), without much hope to finally embarking on a real career in my adopted country. I lost my house, many of my possessions, and half of my life’s savings.

I left Canada, bitter, disappointed, and angry at myself for overstaying my welcome for so long. So many lost and lonely years! Afterwards, I worked for several years as university lecturer in a Southeast Asian country, and have now found a place in the sun in Malaysia. Now I work as ministerial adviser on training and employment matters, and look forward to the early 2007 opening of my own bed-and-breakfast inn in a spectacular natural environment. I’ve been told many times: Canada: love it or leave it. I’ve done both.
Peter A. Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia.