THIS IS NOT A DIARY:
"What will you read about in this book? This is about life. A real one. Full of hardships, endurance and perseverance. Obedience and a test of faith. Cold hard facts, joy and fun at the same time."
PROLOGUE SUBSTITUTE
“After climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb”
Nelson Mandela
What would you do if- by a divine twist of fate- land in a different country? I’m not talking about tourism, obligatory immigration or a business trip. You have a plan to go overseas as a migrant worker for severalmonths, maybe a year or two. You plan your trip in months or a year ahead. What will you do, where will you go, where will you live and work? Along the planning you always run into a brick wall of questions. How you’ll cope with the changes and how secure will be your life in a way different environment what you have used to? These thoughts kept me haunting while humped back on seat of a transcontinental jet flying high above the Atlantic. I know the language very well, this shouldn’t be a problem, but I haven’t got enough cash... Hello Boyo! Are you coming here to work right? Yes. OK then. So relax now...... Tried to force myself into a delirium-like sleep. It’s a hard thing to do amid frequent turbulence and the constant murmur of the engines and your neighbours. When my jet taxied to the arrivals section of Toronto’s Pearson airport I’ve haven’t had the faintest idea that my planned several months of stay will exceed to nearly ten years! As a citizen of an eastern European country from the ex communist bloc, if you land in North America for a first time in your life you have to face an initial culture shock. Different people, different cars, different buildings, totally different environment. What a rush! Like, when you jump into the TV, into some 8o’s action movie, where you couldn’t tell what will be the outcome of the story, but definitely you are the hero, who destined to ride away into the sunset at the end of the film. I walked with my simple luggage through the gates, past customs and passport control. Suddenly an over 6 feet tall African-American skycap jumped in a front of me out of nowhere and offered his help to carry my stuff.”OK.How much?” -asked him.” Oh don’t worry sir” and he just grabbed my trolley and rushed toward the exit, with a pace of a basketball player. I could hardly follow his cavorting. Once outside I was overwhelmed with a sight of posh limousines, buses and a variety of people all over the world. Everybody was in the rush.Running around in an organized fashion,like ants in their hill. I started to open my wallet in a clumsy way –still in shock- and handed over a banknote what I’ve first touched in the bundle.” Thanks. Welcome to Canada!” and disappeared as he came. Along with a ten dollar bill..."
(to be continued)
