I don’t remember much about my departure from China. At that time I wasn’t really aware that my parents and I would settle down in Canada permanently. I didn’t know that this trip to Canada was a one way ticket and that it wasn’t going to be a vacation lasting a mere 2 months. It was to be the first time I would set foot on a foreign country yet the only figment of memory remaining was bidding farewell to my kindergarten class. I remember being called by the teacher to the front of the class where she made a public announcement about my departure to a faraway land called Canada. Only then did I begin to realize that I would perhaps never see the teacher or my classmates ever again, at least not for a very long period of time. What the reactions of my classmates were I do not recall. Nor do I recall saying goodbye to my grandparents and my aunt and uncle. Funny it is that memories of such significant events have worn off with the unmitigated onslaught of time. Suffice it to say that I felt both excited at the prospect of living in a whole new world and sad at the idea of leaving so suddenly a place where the roots of my memories were planted at.
The departure to Canada was also going to be the first time I ever took an airplane. I recall a multitude of sentiments being on this otherworldly transportation that I have only seen before in the form of television images or play toys. I was overwhelmed with excitement, and maybe a little fear, when the airplane lurched forward and aimed towards the sky. However, whatever degree of excitement and fear I initially felt over my first plane ride were eventually beset by the excruciatingly long hours that an airplane ride across continent and ocean would take. I repeatedly asked my mother how much longer it will take until the airplane will land and thereafter complaining after hearing the answer. It took approximately 10 hours to go from Beijing to Vancouver for airplane transfer, and I was bored with every minute of it. My parents of course, were often asleep during the plane ride, leaving me sitting there engaged in a staring competition with the airplane ceiling.
Upon landing at Vancouver, I thought that the airplane ride was finally over, that at last I can step out and smell the fresh air. But it wasn’t over. I found out then that the place where we will finally settle would be Montreal and not Vancouver. Despite this discouraging discovery, the brief stay at Vancouver airport did produce one memorable event. It was the first time I personally heard people speaking the English language. I was later even more shocked when I heard my father communicating in that mysterious language. I remember asking my mother what kind of language my father was speaking to these men in uniform. She pleasantly replied that my father is able to speak “外语”, which is Chinese for a “foreign language”. I knew at that moment that the world around me has changed. I would no longer be able to communicate with the people around me in my mother tongue. Instead, I had no choice but to learn the language of the, as Chinese people would call it, “外国人”, which means foreign people, in order to communicate with them. That grim reality slowly dawned upon me and it was the first time I can say where I felt truly homesick.
5 hours later, I stepped out of the airplane with my parents and moved along with the current of travellers and a couple of other Chinese pilgrims into the empty corridors leading to the main hall of Dorval Airport in Montreal. After 15 hours of flight time, the cool summer breeze and the brightly lit blue hue of the sky reinvigorated my spirit and senses. I arrived at Montreal on June 15, 1995. Montreal was an environment so completely different from that of Beijing. I remember being struck by the extreme disparity in population between Beijing and Montreal. As we sat in a taxi driving us to the apartment where we would live in, I keenly observed the wonderful sights flashing before my eyes. I saw people walking around, hand in hand, enjoying the delightful taste of ice cream. I saw parents playing around with their children on the expansive grassfields of public parks. It was then that I began to think maybe Canada isn’t a strange place after all, and with that comforting thought I curled my lips upwards and smiled.
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