As the world comes to Canada, centre helps newcomers adjust
Job-hunting, English, Canadian culture all on tap
Amal Baky arrived in Calgary from Cairo, three reluctant teenage daughters in tow, one hot day in July 2006.
“I remember thinking, this is Canada!” she says. “Why is it so frigging hot?”
Arunratana Wongwandanee (or Nok) arrived from Bangkok in September 2008 with two boys, ages two and eight, the older of whom had to start school a few days later, speaking only Thai.
Her husband, an engineer, had arrived two and a half years earlier to find work — which he did, in the middle of the boom.
Shortly after Nok’s arrival, which coincided with the global economic meltdown, her husband got laid off.
Huda Al-Aboodi arrived from Baghdad (via a flight out of Syria) on Feb. 23, 2011. The temperature in Calgary upon arrival? Minus 18 C.
“As you know, Iraq is a very hot country,” Al-Aboodi says. “So it’s very difficult for me. It was a really terrible day,” she says.
Winnie Ngigi arrived Christmas Day 2010 from Nairobi, Kenya, with her nine-year-old daughter, Agnetta.
“When we arrive, we are very confused,” she says. “We don’t know which way to go.”
New Calgarians — and Canadians — arrive every day now, from every corner of the planet.
They come from Asia, Africa, Europe, the Middle East, South and Central America — even the U.S.
They come from different cultures, speak unique languages, are trained in a variety of professions, and worship in various religions.
Some bring children. Others come alone to join family members who made the journey years earlier.
Some come speaking no English at all, while others, such as Baky, speak it fluently and arrive bearing an armful of degrees and, sometimes, decades of professional work experience.
In Baky’s case, it was an undergraduate degree in architecture, a master’s in political science and two decades working for the British Council in Egypt and as an educator in Abu Dhabi — but none of it, it seems, prepares anyone for the shock of being a newcomer here.
“Language was never a barrier for me,” says Baky. “Really, what shocked me was that, although language was never a barrier, I experienced pretty much what everybody experienced (when they first arrive in Canada).
“I was really not prepared for the self-confidence wipeout you experience when you first come to Canada,” she says.
Sitting in a conference room at the Centre for Newcomers, located in Pacific Place Mall in northeast Calgary, is a veritable United Nations of new Calgarians.
There’s Al-Aboodi, a math teacher from Baghdad; Jesyvelle Joy Mojica, an accounting student from Baguio City in the Philippines; Ngigi, a Nairobi hairstylist; Sang-Jin An, from Seoul, Korea; chemical engineer Quing Liu, Xin Yue Liu and Ying Zhou, from China; and Hadra Mohmed, from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, who only arrived in October.
In Baky’s case, her journey took her from Abu Dhabi, where she worked as an educator, to floundering upon arrival in Canada, largely because she lacked a geographic work history, rather than a relevant one.
“You are professional and you are a self-made person,” she says. “And you come with your own history, and you’ve had your own journeys, so you appreciate yourself — you do have that self-esteem. And you were strong enough, bold enough to dream and ... to realize that dream.
“And you come here,” she adds. “And you’re not prepared that there’s such a thing as Canadian work experience or North American work experience. “What is that?” says Baky. “If you want to work (as) a hairdresser in Kenya,” says Ngigi, “we usually don’t write a resume. You just show the person you can do it, and then she can decide if she’s going to hire you or not.
“But when I came here,” she adds, “I found that everything is different and difficult.”
However, where there are frustrations, there are also opportunities.
Once Nok got past the fact that her experience as a nurse at a large, modern hospital in Bangkok — with 3,000 outpatients and 450 beds — didn’t translate into a job in Calgary, she adjusted.
Her engineer husband got called back to work after enduring a yearlong layoff. Her youngest boy went off to school and she discovered the LINC program at the YWCA.
LINC stands for the Language Instruction for Newcomers to Canada. It’s a program that not only provides language instruction, but also offers a sense of community to everyone who feels like they don’t fit in.
“It’s a wonderful class because I have a good teacher,” Nok says.
“I have more self-confidence, and I know lots about — not only English — but how to find a job and start a career, how to get information, access to the library. For now, I learn how to write a resume, how to write a cover letter and, when we have guest speakers, they teach us about Canadian law.”
Nok plans to go back to school to become a pharmacy technician.
The LINC program is supervised by Baky who, after struggling mightily, took a job in a supermarket before a neighbour alerted her to a program in which newcomers are teamed up with corporate mentors.
That’s the CRIEC program — Calgary Regional Immigrant Employment Council — which thought so highly of Baky, they hired her.
Then, one thing led to another — she needed a second job — and the person hiring for the LINC program was impressed by her track record as an educator in Abu Dhabi.
She got the gig and now oversees a busy program that operates seven days a week, teaching English to 600 newcomers.
“We get people from the Middle East, from Asia, of course China and Korea, definitely Afghanistan, Pakistan, you name it — Central Europe. Hungary, Moldova, we also get Russians.
“When we have potlucks,” she adds, “the food that comes in is incredible. It’s a very rich (cultural) environment.”
At the Centre for Newcomers, they have created a whole system designed to help newcomers make the transition to Canadian life. They’re funnelled into the LINC program to learn English.
Lack Canadian work experience? There’s a volunteer program that gives newcomers a chance to gain skills. There’s even a cafe — EthniCity — they can work in to build their Canadian work history.
People at the centre will even explain Canadian culture.
Ngigi, for one, feels empowered by her experience at the centre.
“The good thing,” she says, “is that the Centre for Newcomers offers you the chance to get that (better understanding of Canadian) culture and English and work experience — and also they teach you how to write a resume and cover letters.” They are also prepared for job interviews.
Now Ngigi’s hoping to trade in hairdressing for a new career as a social worker. Even better, her daughter now likes Canada.
“There’s a lot of opportunity for kids,” Ngigi says. “They can choose what they want to do.
“So now,” she adds, “she’s doing music. She likes to sing like Selena Gomez and different songs.”
For accounting grad Mojica, 21, who emigrated with her family from the Philippines, the centre offers the Youth Possibilities Program. “We learned employability skills, and life skills, and that’s where I gained confidence as well,” she says.
For Nok, Al-Aboodi, Ngigi and many others, the programs offered by LINC, CRIEC, and institutions such as the Centre for Newcomers have provided the turning point — when they stop feeling new and start feeling Canadian.
Often, they become the next generation of Canadians to lend a helping hand when a new bunch arrives.
“When things as wonderful as this happen to you,” Baky says, “you always walk around feeling you have to give back. You really do.
“Whether it’s outwardly to the (Calgary) community, or whether it’s an immigrant professional coming to Canada who’s just begging for a chance when they really should not be begging at all — they should be demanding an opportunity because they are well worth it.”