018 - The Story of my installation - Part 2: The Confessions!
The Confessions!
Getting to Montreal
Today is free time, I'll do the tourists. After two buses, I'm in the Montreal metro pass which saw over one million passengers a day, yes, daily! Once inside, I bought the map for every resident here, the map called Opus, with it, you can charge for tickets for one day, three days a week or a month, because here the ticket for a single pass, $ 2.75, while with the Opus card is $ 70.00 for the entire month, including metro and bus, on the island of Montreal.
Maps in hand, and the Montreal Subway, my first stop was the Field of Mars to begin my tour of Old Montreal, a beautiful corner, a contrast between old and new architecture. Notre Dame, cross the famous Place Jacques-Cartier, where the narrow streets of Old Montreal brings you back to a century, other than the century. Street artists, painters, cartoonists, and souvenirs, even if all memory is the place! And then, a few steps ahead of you, the old port which faces the great St. Lawrence, St. Lawrence, where these small vessels, as in time, make the connection between the port and the South Shore.
And then you go back towards the street bearing the same name of this famous and magnificent basilica, Notre-Dame, a real, for real, but really for true architectural marvel and a museum of art human, far from the stereotypes of religions!
And then you go down, the heart of the city, you find yourself in Chinatown, where Chinese are the largest community in the city, everything is Chinese, architecture, food, conversation, writing on shops, everything! And then you sink more and more in this jingle, you find yourself on rue Sainte-Catherine, your curiosity draws you into the massive Eaton Centre, part of Montreal under ground, where you have to be careful with your impressions and beats, not to spend all day turning out not knowing these endless mazes!
Just enough time to have lunch, dinner called here in Quebec, because here is the morning breakfast, dinner in the afternoon and dinner in the evening! Simple as that. Tired of having walked too much, but happy to be here!
We must go. After a subway and two buses, I'm back in my room. I took supper (dinner) with Paul and his girlfriend, we had a real discussion on immigration, on why and how, on the separations and reunions, this life that brings us back to the unknown, the definition of happiness and unhappiness. We had some laughs that have broken the ice between me and them, the prejudices, the unspoken taboos. Everything is said, or almost!
The briefing
Today, I have an appointment with the immigration office in Quebec, for my first briefing devoted to new permanent residents. And she's a friend of Paul who accompanied me in his car to the scene, a nice woman who loves to laugh and I shared a lot with her this morning, taking coffee.
We were about fifteen people in this room the briefing, the most part, Mughrabi, only a couple of Latin America. Nobody spoke to each other, each in its silence, the silence of the graves, and instead of looking in your eyes, we look into the shoes! Is that's the reality of human contact here in Canada, the eye contact in the shoes of others! We must never look people in the eye, especially in buses and subways, we must, saying, respect the spirit of each! And that's always been, and it works very well, apparently!
The immigration officer, itself, originally from Eastern Europe is hardly articulates his French, spoke for several hours to finally say nothing, or just to say what it's in the guide 'Learning in Quebec'. But you still have to attend, because then there will be information sessions longer and, in extreme cases, mandatory.
Housing search
Today I received the letter from the RAMQ with the form filled. With Paul, I went as requested, at the CLSC nearest to file my application for health insurance card. And once again, things were conducted very quickly, especially with a charming and smiling lady at the counter, she asked me the original of the CSQ, which she kept with the application and that the governance of I send it by mail, photocopies of the immigration visa and CRP, a specific photo and a $ 5 fee, and she informed me that I will receive my card in 40 days! Except that, in general, the authority sent the card when a permanent resident reached 90 days of presence in Quebec, but it's true that within 40 days, we receive a paper with our number for limited care.
After that, I contacted the SAAQ, Société d'assurance automobile du Québec, to share my license in Algeria, because I have the right to drive for three months. For that, I must also pass examinations and practical, but not through driving schools, unlike those who do not license or have allowed less than two years, or even those which permits more than two years but have not contacted the SAAQ during their first year of residence here in Quebec. And here, the way in driving schools are very expensive.
The officer gave me an appointment to pass my theory test, a kind of three tests, and advised me to get the two essential guide traffic. But also, the website of the SAAQ, has the same test, which has virtually the same questions on exam day!
After finishing it, it only remains that housing, and is, ad list in hand, I started looking, still with Paul, I fixed my goals, type of apartment searched, and the ceiling of my budget, to ignore all ads.
Yet another Quebecer specificity here, we talk instead of 1 ½, 2 ½ or 3 ½, the first digit indicates the number of rooms, closed or not, and ½, half is to indicate the bathroom. Simple as that!
After several phone call to the owners, I visited several apartments, but there was always something missing, once it's too expensive, another time it's in the basement, once it dirty, again this is very far from the metro and bus. Until I found my happiness, an apartment within my budget, size, cleanliness and especially the proximity to transportation.
The building superintendent, asked me to pay two months in advance, even if it normally has no right to ask me, but I finally accepted, because there will always be that good pay for bad, that's why the owners are just a little suspicious. Fortunately, she assured me she never had a problem with North Africans! Phew! It's nice to hear that with everything that goes on above our heads!
Feeling back home!
If an Algerian is lack of corn, or it has a certain nostalgia for the country, or has forgotten the bureaucratic misery we all suffered, or simply the local coffee shop (his home ) lacks much, so he goes to the Consulate General of Algeria in Montreal!
At the corner of St. Urbain and Sherbrooke, the red white green flag waved you away. I went to ask the Consular card, should I renew my passport, I need it, and I was absolutely certain that I would feel bad, very bad!
The reception room, underground soul, a sort of old cellar equipped to receive people!, And despite the new paint and the windows, piping is always visible, the piping of toilets people from above, we never see and which are, among others, the direct cause of the leak of Algerians waiting their turns to pass in front of the counter staff who make the grouchy. Closed faces, without the slightest smile of welcome as if you're in front of prison guards in a concentration camp! They speak kindly, only with people who know them, just like back home, their grain, which is ours too!
The same bureaucracy that country, the same anguish, the same stress and even contempt of those agents, like the country! This bureaucracy and this administration, this contempt and arrogance, the first reason, once again, the flight of almost all Algerians into the unknown.
After two hours of waiting, because the ten windows installed, only three are open, and in addition, officers spent much time talking with people who know, out loud as if they were alone or in them normal!, they exchanged phone numbers, normal!, And we, in front of them stashed on these chairs, no word! Normal!
After those two damned hours of waiting, I passed, fortunately I had prepared everything for the request, much paperwork. For this alone consular card, over the total number of documents that I have been asked by all jurisdictions in Canada!
And in the end they tell you that the card will be ready within two months! Yes! You're of course, two months! Well! Here in Canada, I had my Social Insurance Number in ten minutes! Who says better? And that's what makes the difference.
The Confessions!
And, among other things, that's what sets you free!
That's where you free yourself of farewell, and say, finally, a country is not only a land that crushes our feet, but more importantly, a love that is everywhere with us in our hearts! And that the Algerians do not deserve a basement sewage to be received, they deserve better, much better than that!
These are my confessions and my confessions. If emigration is tearing, immigration is reconciliation. If the goodbyes are starting from the tsunami that carries your soul and your heart to collapse, the Confessions are the sunshine of a new day, full of hope, hope, and especially insurance.
My faith in myself, not crush my memories left behind, however, my confession is to be in my heart, and move with, to this new life, this privilege, for immigration Canada is a privilege, an opportunity he must seize the early months of our facility to reconcile with the goodbyes missed Confessions recognized!
And it is here now, I phoned my parents, my best friends, my family, people I love and people who love me, to tell them I'm happy, because c That's true, I'm really happy. I walk in the main streets of Montreal, all alone, smiling, happy, happy to be here, happy to stay there, and especially happy to make my new life there!