Personal Narration : A Short Story : Moving To Canada

I was excited to talk to Ajaz, my best friend from the age of four to thirteen again. We’d had an inconsistent friendship (though we’d never fallen out) over those nine years: from spending every class and break together for our first couple of school year together, to barely speaking to each other later in primary school. Prior my family and I moving to Canada, however, we were as close as we had been aged four. Ajaz was already sat at our pre-arranged meeting point – a small park that neighboured our primary school – when I arrived our pre-arranged meeting point. We walked through the neighbourhood, passing the house in which I grew up. The conversation was predictably awkward, nevertheless, I expected the conversation to loosen up after

I remember my first day in Canada like it was yesterday. The day I thought my dad had been hit by a car and my mom almost having a heart attack. It all started when we first got to the hotel, in Ontario, Mississauga. My father thought it would be a great idea to explore the area and buy some groceries. My mom, two brothers and I were exhausted due to a fourteen-hour flight from Dubai to Toronto so we decided to stay and take a nap. I woke up at 7 pm to silence. I thought my dad had come back and took a nap, but when I went to wake up parents, it was only my mother. At that point, I started freaking out, it’s been 4 hours since my father left. I woke up my mother and told her my dad hadn’t come back yet. My mother tried to call my father, but his phone was off. She then went to the security of the building and talked to him. The security guard asked my mother

"You'll be alright, Beka. This is a great opportunity for you to make new friends" my mom said when she broke the news.. When my mom told me we were moving she said were moving to a small town, but she never really told me how small the town was.

I have some news for you… You’re not going to like it”. The hardest thing for me yet, is trying to fit in. So, coming home to a parent saying we’re moving was amazing news, I couldn’t be happier. But, moving school districts was going to be a very hard obstacle to maneuver around. One year later, coming home from work, my father came up to me and told me he got a promotion in his job. I was thrilled for him, after that he told me we have to move again, this time to Texas. This is not what I had in mind, however, I still was happy for him and expected myself to accept the idea of making more friends in a different state.

Although I am Canadian and still carry Canadian traits, adopting new traits from being in a different environment has helped me grow and become a better individual. Someone who doesn't move will forever lack certain traits because you are not exposed to different environments. Being from a different country, I have different thoughts on an American than Americans, but after being in America my perspective has altered. Being able to adapt to situations and environments, just as the frontiers had, has lead me to take more pride in my individual self. Going trough life significant life experiences has made me appreciate values of Americans like freedom and justice. The western mythology has helped shape this nation and is responsible for many

My mom was sad she left behind her whole family her mom, step dad, sister, and grandparent. Although it wasn’t a lot of people they meant the world to her. In Canada she always felt homesick. My mom couldn’t speak any English so the most communicating she would do on a daily basis was got to Tim Horton’s and ask for a coffee for herself and a treat for her son.

It was a polluted, blazing hot morning and I felt like I had just been working out for the whole night. As I got ready to go to school, putting on my pollution mask, and taking my bike out, I was concerned not about the teachers and getting lost, but about fitting in. This wasn’t perfect Canada anymore, this was chaos filled, contaminated, messed up China! Everyone was so different from the people in Canada, they spoke quite rudely, they wore shaggy cloth, and their shelter was very traditional compared to the ‘modern style houses’ in Canada. You could say that my school was a giant playground with a playground mansion and an additional indoor playground. As I entered the humid environment of the Mansion, strange figures zoomed around

It’s been almost five years since my family has moved to Canada, and I have never felt left out before. I never thought I ever would, but ever since I started attending school in Canada I had the fear that no one would like me.

“We are moving to Arizona. It’s your decision whether or not you come with us.” As a seven year, old girl, this was one of the hardest things to hear from the woman I was supposed to trust most, my mom. I had to make a decision whether or not to move across the country with my mom and a stranger, or move in with my dad and stay near my family. I immediately responded with “I will be staying in Massachusetts”. Although I knew that this decision would flip my world upside down, I didn’t know how much I would personally change because of it. In that moment, I didn’t know that I wouldn’t be seeing my mom for another year. I didn’t know that our relationship would never be the same again. That one sentence changed the whole course of my life. In that split-second decision, I went from a seven-year-old little girl, blind to the reality of life, into a mature young girl forced to swallow the idea of her mother leaving her behind.

My parents weren’t the first people in their family to move to Canada. Two of my dad’s brothers had lived in Canada for ten years prior to when we moved. Due to the downfall of Iran’s economy and constant war threats towards the country, my parents decided after they had me that in order to build a better life for not only me but also themselves, that the best choice was to move to another country. They’ve always dreamt of moving to Canada, so when they got the news that they were granted their VISA, they were overjoyed and eager to start a new life. They said that when the date got closer they began to have second thoughts. Imagine living somewhere for your whole life, your childhood, your teenage years and your adulthood, then having to leave

When I was a kid, a girl lived next door to me. She was beautiful, graceful, and overall a kind person. Her name was Riley. I remember the times where I hung out with her. She was a cool girl who didn’t mind a boy hanging around with her. We often spent our time swinging on a rope in the park and playing tag. In time, I felt… attached to her. I wanted to tell her this. However, something happened.

“I think every person has their own identity and beauty. Everyone being different is what is really beautiful. If we were all the same, it would be boring.” - TIla Tequila

As I walked to the parking lot where my mom had arrived to pick me up from school, my sister ran out of the car, ran towards me and yelled excitedly, “We’re going to Canada!” Having grown up in Kuwait for my whole life of 15 years, I could hardly believe my sister’s words. Going to Canada! I had only been out of the country twice, each time just to vacation and visit family in the Philippines where both my parents are from. I had always imagined what life would be like outside of Kuwait, and now it was finally going to be real. My 15-year old self was devastated - We were leaving the only home I had known for 15 years. It did not take long for my sisters’ excitement to die when we realized that we would be leaving our friends and everything we’ve ever known and not returning for a long time. Life in Kuwait for 15 years was comfortable and we were more than financially stable. Moving to Canada without a job offer in place meant that we would have to start from the beginning all over again. Goodbyes were hard but my parents encouraged us to see the joys of moving to a place where we could start over and become accepted citizens of a country. Arriving in Canada, I experienced the biggest culture shock of my life. Vancouver, BC was cold, wet, and loud. I had thought adjusting would be relatively easy; I spoke English with a slight accent but I was very shy that it confused some of the other kids to think I couldn’t speak English. I did not understand the culture, which took a

While he was leaving the room we both sat down being quite for a minute or two, not saying a word.

and said, “No.” I didn 't want to move, I wanted to stay. I was about to cry, but my