10 years and a retrospective

10 years ago yesterday, I got off a plane at Pearson Intl airport and stepped into the most defining phase of my life (so far!) I don't remember too much, except that it was incredibly overwhelming. I remember thinking that the airport was really nice. I also remember observing that there were a lot of people from a lot of different places, but hey it was an airport so that made sense. Other than that, I was really tired from sitting around in the plane for so long. We got a pizza thing on that flight. Being the picky eater I used to be, I was quite happy with that and really wanted more (airplane food had until then, universally sucked). That pizza thing would single-handedly result in me holding Air Canada in high esteem for the next couple of years.

We eventually got out of the airport, and lo and behold it was snowing. And it was cold. So cold. I think I almost died. Don't get me wrong, we fully expected the wrath of the Canadian winter. But I think that we may have just underestimated it. It was quite the contrast, having spent years in Qatar. A country where winters are probably as warm as the summers in Canada. None the less, it was so different that I enjoyed it! There I was, running around trying to act all grown up and making sure our luggage was in tow. My mom yelled and screamed, telling me to get inside, or to cover up more or something. Glad we got through that.

My Uncle (Dad's younger brother) picked us up. It's kind of funny. I feel like his life decisions are what probably led to us moving to Canada. Dad had got a new job in Nigeria. He didn't want us to be educated there, especially with my younger brother being hearing impaired. So he decided to send us to Canada, a country he was told to be really nice by his brother, where we can study while he works overseas.

My Uncle's story is especially inspiring. He brought his family over from Pakistan, from nothing to nothing kind of deal. Worked hard, taking on a job in a factory before finally making his own (and very successful business!) But I'm not going to butcher his and his family's journey with my imperfect and incomplete knowledge of it.

Before I go any further, I feel that for the sake of building the narrative, I should establish the setting and context of this whole thing. Here's my journey in some pictures.

This is where it all started. The union of my beloved parents. My dad's always been a bad-ass moustache kinda guy. I'm glad to know that his game was on point on his wedding day. 

The second of three siblings, I was born in Lahore and spent the first few years of my life in my grandfather's house there. It's not the nicest area of the city, but this was the house that my granddad (paternal) built for his family. The house that my dad was raised in. It is a very special place in my memories. We still have family living there, so of course it's not just a memory. 

My younger brother was born late in 1997. A year or so after his birth, we found out that he was completely deaf in both years. One of the strongest memories from my childhood is my mom running out of the hospital to where my older brother and I were waiting, crying. I promised myself I wouldn't make her cry again. That was a promise I have broken repeatedly. We spent some time in London, where he received an operation for a cochlear implant. We decided that we would exclusively speak english, and then my dad had a new job in Turkey and we moved to Ankara.

Turkey was kind to us. A beautiful country, with wonderful people. I have a few memories from it, though not nearly enough. This is a picture of the family with all of the grandparents when they visited 

Pamukkale, Turkey.

At some point in 2001 we decided to move to Qatar. Here's us dressing up for school on Halloween. We're standing in our front "lawn!" My older brother and I spent an absurd amount of time out here, and beyond those doors playing cricket on the road. 

We had family in Qatar too. 

We even had pet rabbits! 

At some point, our beloved 500 series BMW, which had been with us since Turkey caught fire. My mom was on the way to pick up my brother and I from cricket practice. I've been forever grateful that she pulled over and got out of the car the moment she saw smoke from the hood. 

Of course we went home to Pakistan too. This is a picture from the house in which my mother grew up, in a town near the city of Multan. Another house which is really special in my memories. Unfortunately, this house was ruined in the floods of 2010, which caused my grandparent's to move next to their oldest daughter's house in Islamabad. 

School was tough in Qatar. We went to a British school, and I exclusively had British teachers while there. But it was strange because as a non-arabic speaker, I really was the odd one out in my class. Nonetheless, the few friendships I made, I've cherished to this day. 

There's a bit of a gap here in the photo history, but the next we knew, we had moved to Canada. This picture of course was taken in our current home in Richmond Hill, soon after we bought it. We spent the first few months in Missisauga. 

Naturally, we decided to spend our first Canadian summer outside of Canada. We visited Dad twice in Nigeria, and both times lined up nicely with his birthday. The second time we even dropped by Kenya for a safari. 

The next thing I knew, we'd been in this country for a full five years and we were waiting to take our oath of citizenship. 

And then I was a Canadian. 

I met a bunch of really cool people. Unfortunately, I could only find a picture of these fools.

Naturally, we still visit our birthland. 

Well, there you have it. My life. These pictures seem to form some story or another. They're missing the hours I spent in the universe that my older brother and I had made up, telling stories to one another. They're missing the scratches and bite marks that my younger brother and I inflicted upon one another. They're missing the tears of my mother, and her pain of having to raise 3 disobedient boys. One of whom required special care. Of her pain of having to do it for three years without her husband. Of her inability to practice medicine because she was too busy taking care of us. They're missing the sweat and stress that my father endured so that he could bring us to this country and give us the million opportunities we have now. Of his pain in being away from his family, all alone in a foreign land so that he could bring literal light to people who would never know him. 

I guess it's obvious. Our lives are so full of emotion and experiences that there is no simple way to summarize them. My story is an ordinary one but I still wanted to share it. It began in Lahore, and ends with me as a Canadian citizen. I think it's wonderful because it's so definitely Canadian. And the fact that it happened in the first place, is something that this country should be proud of.

In this country, the dominant culture is one that accepts and sees the human experience in all people. Canadians acknowledge the value of all human life, and respect all human culture. We don't look at people and see their country of origin. We look at people and we see another human being. Our instinct is then to understand their way of life and respect them for it. In Canada, there is no "us and them." I think that this is a quality of our country that we absolutely must cherish. 

This is all especially relevant with the ongoing refugee crisis. My own perspective is that this country has given so much to my family. And I want to give back. I imagine, that for many who are suffering and living in far worse conditions than I ever did, this country's salvation would be a godsend. And I believe, that if we continue seeing the humanity in every human, the acts that seem so much like charity now will not only strengthen the nation, but be something our children can be proud of. 

I'm not the best with words. And I've now realized, long after it's too late to stop writing this, that there is no way I will truly be able to convey what this country has done for me. Canada has defined my personality and who I am probably more than any other place I've lived and I am proud of it. It's made me a better person. It's opened my mind and my heart, and it's allowed me to meet the most wonderful people. It's given my the ability to understand our shared human struggle, and sympathize with all people. 

I know that tough times come. Oil prices are down, there's a lack of jobs, tuition is expensive as all hell, etc. But I think that at it's heart, which is the heart of the people, Canada is doing well. It's doing wonderfully, and I love it.