Lessons from surviving the pandemic in two different countries
Welcome to Montreal, Canada
One month before I left, I was left behind emotionally, with no sign of closure. I was confused and questioned my decision. If I was making the biggest mistake of my life, leaving a potential partnership behind, a cushy job and a nice sunny island.
But when I closed my eyes, that future looked nothing like what I wanted. So, I booked my ticket and waited the pain out. The pain of leaving someone but him leaving you before, the pain of burying an old life behind. Above all, the pain of fear. Fear of the unknown.
The plane rides were exhausting and pretty grim. I used to love travelling. This time it was a morose event. Sanitary kit given at check-in, extra paperwork and being alert of not touching anything or getting too close to anyone. One 12-hour flight, 7-hours transit in Paris and another 7-hour flight later, I was in Canada. It was October. I chose Montreal as I was bilingual and thought it would be easier to get a job here, especially considering the situation.
I arrived in an unknown city in an unknown apartment just before midnight. I do not know which was worst my jet lag or my quiet panic about what I just did. I would spend the next weeks in the apartment due to COVID restrictions and I have never spent so much time with myself. Even my isolation in Mauritius paled. Back home, I had an identity. Here I was in limbo, future settler but not quite there yet.
I learnt how to quiet the thoughts in my head. Afterall, there is only so much Netflix you can watch. Only so much communications you can sustain via online channels. It was a weird basket of feelings, excited about my new life but at the same time I barely had any idea of what it looked like. At that point, I did not even know what a supermarket looked like here.
So, I read, exercised and cooked. I became aware of my own noise in my head, the little voices of my subconscious that would be masked by normal daily activities. And I realised how many of them, there were. My greatest realisation was just how hard I was on myself and ever since those 2 weeks self-isolation in limbo land, I became a lot more compassionate…towards myself.
I started staring at the ceiling more and doing less. Or criticising myself less even when I cannot attend the myriad of unrealistic things on my checklist. I create new goals, tried to visualise my future and even amid the pandemic, my future looked bright, at least to me. I knew in my heart I was home.
Some days, I yearned the presence of my closed ones, I longed for a glass of wine and endless conversations with him. But in no way, was I homesick. I have come too far.
Two weeks after, I was free, and I roamed the streets of downtown. The air was chilly and heavy with the scent of a looming winter. I loved it. I love every minute of my discovery. Even though, the weather was moody, and all activities were closed, I breathed in my new life.
The next few weeks flew by; new immigrant administrative duties took over and it was draining. At the same time, I was trying to make friends online, on meet-up. I befriended a French born Canadian immigrant and we spent Christmas and New Year’s together. She went back to France shortly before winter was over, but I discovered the city with her. She also made me try skating. I embraced winter. Coincidentally, I got introduced to another couple who just moved here from DC around the same time. We went for walks in the snow.
Still, there was the fear. A silent panic growing. What if I cannot find a job? Most people I spoke to before coming down discouraged me from coming. There are no jobs, they said.
The economic situation is dire, now is not a good time to move. Wait for a bit and let the crisis settle, they said. But I believed in me. I worked hard for a month and networked online in any way I could. Shortly after New Year, I got two back-to-back job offers.
Life was beginning to make sense. 2021 was a year of learning, new country, new city, new friends, new professional relationships. I often wondered what happened to him, we texted a few times during the holiday season but still no closure. Turns out there was no closure to be had as the story was just on pause, but that is for another time.
The second part of this story is 100% about me and my inner growth. The first part was about uncovering the naivete I was carrying about the world I used to live in. I am sure that inequality exists in this part of the world as well. But this time, it was about me. It was about shedding old skin and taking in new growth. In this part, it was my own pain and taking responsibility for my own decisions. My friend told me, you take a decision and then you make it right. I carried that to me all the way to Canada.
So far so good. With hindsight, there were a couple of things I would have done differently had there not been a pandemic. Take longer to look for a job for instance. But my greatest realisation of the lockdown is how much I love working from home and that is allowing me to craft my own version of the future of work.
If you take only one thing from this story, it is that growth is painful. It is hard. But the hardest thing is that you can choose not to grow. But when you slowly come out on the other side of pain, it is all kinds of beautiful. I am not totally there yet, but I see some light through.
