Personal Narrative: Moving To Vancouver

When I was nine years old my father went to prison. Since he was a single parent, I was forced to relocate to Washington State to live with my grandparents. Moving to Washington was one of the worst things that I thought could happen at the time, even though it ended up strengthening me as a person. I was forced to leave my friends, school, father and all of my other family members. I was taken from everything I knew and was left very confused and conflicted.

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.

My mom Andrea Svank moved from Hungary to Canada in 1998. My mom was born July 19th, 1970 she was born in Nyíregyháza, Hungary. She got the idea to move to Canada because her husband Joszef Svank (my dad) went to Canada to visit his aunt and uncle for 8 months before they met. When they met he always talked about how nice Canada is and that one day when there married he wants to move to Canada.

When I was 13 i moved from Decatur Il to the city capitol of Indiana (Indianapolis) hoping to get a better life in education and sports.All my life i dreamed of me going to a big college and becoming a professional basketball player later on in my life.My mother told me it will be a lest likely chance you will become a pro basketball player in a city we used to live in due to our “reputation”. Once We Got To Indiana I was sad but i was excited at the same time,Thoughts ran through my mind like “are the students are going to like me”?,”Will i become an outcast”?. I went to this private school in the central of the city named Lincoln Jr High. Once i got there i was focused on my grades and basketball that’s all i thought about. Once basketball tryouts began i reported to the gym

January 2015, I moved to Bothell, Washington from Kirkland, Washington. Moving to a new city means moving to a new school. I did not like that idea. I already had a bunch of friends in Kirkland, I couldn't just leave them out of the blue like that. Plus, it was in the middle of the school year.

It was a regular Sunday morning, precisely at 8:00, I was walking my dog Sham. He may look cute but he will snap and bark at any stranger (but that is completely irrelevant). Anyway, all of a sudden the authorities came and evicted everyone out of their homes! I caught up with my parents and they acknowledged that we had to move to Canada because of the virus.

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

A refreshing cool breeze blew in from the screen door, it was followed by the aroma of freshly baked cookies. As I got closer and closer to the oven I could practically taste the dough in my mouth, this was the work of my mom. As I took my first bite of the delicious cookie I hear thumping big feet shaking through the house followed by a somewhat loud jolly whistling. Dad was clearly happy to be able to have the luxury of enjoying some delicious cookies.

Many factors influenced me to choose Victoria as the choice over NSW, like cost of living, culture, transportation, safety and people. Now a days NSW became too much crowded and mechanical.

When I first moved to Canada, I became a victim of this threat known as bullying. In grade 4, in 2008, I had first come to Canada, from India. I didn’t know how to speak English, and so, people used this as an excuse to pick on me. One kid whole bullied me a lot was Ravi. He used to make fun of me because I couldn’t talk to others and told other that I was anti-social. Also, he would take any good lunch I had, he would make fun of me when playing games, and even spread false rumours. I first kept my bullying problems hidden from my parents, but gradually, as things got worse, I told them. They talked to our teacher, Mr. Douglas. Mr. Douglas talked to Ravi, and he stopped bullying me. Even though he isn’t the friendliest person today, he doesn’t

At the age of 11, my life took a turn. To others, immigration was moving from country to country, but to me, it meant leaving my friends and family behind. On August 7, 2012 we moved to Canada. With all the challenges I was facing from immigration the biggest challenge was finding my identity in which I felt comfortable and knew I belonged. When I came from Pakistan I wore hijab. I was born in the year of 9/11 and that time my dad used to live in America when I grew up, my dad used to tell me what happened to Muslims in America after 9/11 so when my parents told me we were moving to Canada I was frightened to even though I knew that Canada is a different country and it both accepts and respects people of different origin. So when I moved to Canada I knew I had the decision to make, a decision about my identity, decision about who I want to be seen as.

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

For nearly my entire life I was a quiet, shy, and reserved person. I was afraid to put myself out there or talk to new people. At the end of February, I was preparing to fly to Ottawa for Encounters with Canada, and I would be surrounded by new people. When I stepped off the plane a few weeks later, the nerves were really starting to kick in. I found the representative and found myself waiting on a bench next to two girls who only spoke French. Eventually, a chatty group of girls came off their plane and sat down further on the bench. My mind went blank, I couldn't spend a week alone! Then a thought popped into my head. No one here knew who I was, for all they knew I could be the most outgoing person on the planet. So I decided, that's exactly

My Mom woke me up in midnight, told me to go get change, and let’s leave. I was like what’s going on? a minute later, I remembered, we are moving to Canada.

Around the age of 13, and before moving to Canada, I used to attend a private school in Egypt called the Chouifat. I experienced some of my best memories and some of my worst. I have met some really inspiring people that taught me a lot, and I met some stupid people that carried me down the wrong path. I have done a great deal of good during my 9 years in that school and I have done a lot of bad too. During my last day of school I did something that was incredibly foolish. I decided to jump over the wall that surrounded the school. And this wall was not some cute wall that you can hope over, no! It was a 7 foot, rusty, old, unsafe, disgusting, dust covered wall. After I climbed and jumped off the wall on to the street, I hear a screeching