Liz's Initial Journey to Canada

My memories of landing in Canada are crystal clear.

It was October 28, exactly three weeks after I turned 14. I was travelling with my sister, without our parents, to a new country that we would eventually call home.

At the time, I had no idea that Canada would be the place we would permanently plant our roots.

My mom asked if I wanted to go to Canada for my studies earlier that same year. For some reason, my response was an automatic and enthusiastic “YES” to the idea of studying abroad. Shortly afterwards, I learned that my sister was also invited to travel overseas because my mother couldn’t fathom sending her youngest daughter away on her own.

I often wonder how different my life would’ve turned out had I declined her invitation and chose to stay in Korea.

Instead, we drove to Gimpo Airport and, just like that, my sister and I were Vancouver-bound. I never travelled internationally before that day. I vividly recall admiring how large the plane was and feeling an uneasiness thinking about being shipped overseas.

I was grateful to the staff on the plane that day. One very caring flight attendant was extra attentive with us, probably sensing our anxiety and despair. After all, we were the only minors on the plane travelling on their own.

Back in 1997, Canada wasn’t seen as a top international education destination. Within the limited market share they held, Korea turned out to be one of the country’s top feeder countries for international students at all levels including K-12, language, and post-secondary education.?

My sister and I held a printed copy of the authorization letter from the Canadian Embassy welcoming us to study in Canada. I remember feeling the coarseness of the page, a mundane piece of paper that would eventually change my life’s entire trajectory.

10 hours later, we finally landed in Vancouver, our very first touchpoint in Canada. As soon as we got off the flight, everything was a blur. We joined a crowd who rushed to get through the immigration process. As we followed them down the escalator, I passed by the marquee waterfall and stunning Indigenous art pieces. We followed the big signs that directed Canadian citizens to go one way, and visitors to go another.?

My sister and I walked up to the immigration booth. While we were only posed a few simple questions, we struggled to get through customs due to our language barrier. It’s hard to remember a time when I wasn’t fluent in English, but this was our reality as young, vulnerable visitors in this new, foreign country.?

Because we couldn’t communicate in English, we were immediately sent over to an office where we sat for over an hour waiting for an available officer.?

The officer was a woman with dark blonde hair, maybe in her late 40s. After asking us a few questions, she sought out a translator to help us communicate. As it turns out, we didn’t have a copy of the Letter of Acceptance from our school. Because of this, the officer said she couldn’t let us through.

My heart was in my throat. We couldn’t get into the country?

We were alone, stuck in the airport without our parents, and had no idea what to do next.

More on this in two weeks!?

#travel #culture #canada