Our Home and Native Land . . .

It was the kind of day that you want everything to go exactly right, but from the start it wasn't happening. I woke up later than I usually do but I decided to carry on with my routine, only speed it up a bit. I went running. I showered and shaved and got dressed. I finished last minute preparation details and I went up for breakfast. Maybe I should have passed on the 2 pieces of toast and coffee because suddenly I could feel a bit of anxiety in my chest. I was behind.

No matter, I thought as I turned onto Niagara Street, I would use my superior driving skills and make up for lost time on the road. Oh no, road construction! Traffic backed up from Carlton and Niagara up to Laura Secord HS and we waited . . . I gritted my teeth and whispered sarcastically, "Serenity now, serenity now . . ." When I finally get past this, I thought, I'll really put the moves on. But as I crossed over the QEW and looked down on Niagara Falls bound traffic, all I could see was a traffic jam. I decided instantly not to try to go onto the QEW there but make my way to the next on ramp (no matter, the exit was closed for, wait for it, road construction). The problem was that all the other disappointed drivers who were detoured from entering the QEW there were now in a traffic jam on the service road. As I slowed to a stop, my heart began racing and wild, unhappy thoughts escaped my mind, some of them even passed my lips. It was 9:15. Citizenship & Immigration Canada's registered letter explicitly said we were to be at the Kate S. Durdan Elementary School at 9:30. Be prompt. That deadline was now dead. I was worried that I might not make 10 a.m.

With a burst of anxious anger I swerved out of line, through a parking lot onto a side road as a detour of a detour. A gentlemen in a truck with a large cigar was moving slowly in front of me. Obviously he had no pressing appointments for the morning. As he stopped to make a left turn and wait for the road to completely clear of all traffic I went around to the right and gunned the engine. Lineups of cars were straight ahead but I had decided to avoid all lines even if I had to detour a ways out of the way. I made it to Queenston Street and used an empty right turn traffic lane to by pass all the cars in line and cut into the straight ahead lane. I zoomed under the skyway bridge, testing the limits of machine and man, down the service road to Glendale Ave. where I finally got onto the QEW again. Instead of setting my cruise control around the speed limit (OK, I usually set it just a tick above the speed limit) I simply followed the traffic flow, 120 kph, which suited me this morning. I was already sweating profusely in my good clothes, looking at the time. 9:25 a.m. and still miles out. Not a good way to start my first day as a Canadian citizen, breaking a few laws enroute.

I pulled in and parked my car at 9:40, unarrested and unscathed, not too bad. Two smiling fresh-faced elementary school girls with Canadian flags in their hands opened the doors to the school when they saw me and welcomed me in. More children in red and white led me down corridors, upstairs and to the waiting room for new citizens. I was relieved to find the room a hive of activity as prospective Canadians were lined up to finish the last part of the paperwork. My worry was that I would walk into a lecture and all eyes in the quiet room would turn to me. But no, happy chaos. So I gave up my Permanent Resident card (a moment of sadness, remembering all the work it took to obtain that card) and presented other documents to prove I was who I said I was. Then I took a seat and waited. I struck up a conversation with a man would was from Nubia in Sudan. We were becoming Canadians today.

Finally all the paperwork was finished, everyone was present and last minute instructions were given by an official. We lined up to go downstairs to the school gym. The gym was full of children, some practicing as a choir, others just to observe the ceremony. There was a section for friends and family and in the front rows were my family (Wanda's parents, sister and niece) and friends from Grace and St. Catharines. I relaxed a bit as I saw friendly, familiar faces. It was really happening, everything was now on schedule, Canada was going to welcome me in a moment.

As I looked for my seat (assigned seating)I found that '1B' meant I shared the number 1 seat with another person in '1A'. She was an American also becoming Canadian on this day. As we talked, we realized in amazement that our stories were similar. I had almost given up hope on becoming a citizen looking at the hurdles ahead back in May, she had made a mistake on her application and had almost given up as well. We both had been planning to travel and live in Africa and thought that the requirements would preclude us from realistically getting that citizenship card. But the same person in the Niagara Falls C&I Canada office had encouraged both of us to carry on, fill out the forms, etc. This official would never admit it, but her quiet advocacy surely made it possible for both of us to be there that morning. So here we sat, side by side as American citizens becoming Canadian citizens with the help of a 'guardian angel'. And we were both leaving on Sunday from Pearson International, both of us eventually ending up in Africa.

The ceremony was called to order by an RCMP officer, a Mountie that looked like he had walked right out of a recruitment poster. Judge Robert Morrow presided and other dignitaries took their seats. Judge Morrow made a speech which was gracious in nature. He did talk about what a wonderful land Canada is (no surprise there) but he also welcomed us and said that immigrants are the backbone of modern Canada. My new friend and I, sitting next to each other, remarked how different this likely sounded from an American ceremony. Instead of, "you're lucky to be here in this great land of the good ol' US of A", it was "we're lucky to have you coming to us here in Canada". No talk about bearing arms for the motherland, but talk about how peace, order and good government are the hallmarks of Canada. So we all stood up and offered, affirmed, our allegiance to Queen Elizabeth and her heirs and successors, to obey Canadian laws and to fulfill our duties as Canadian citizens.

It was a bittersweet moment for me. I was happy to become a Canadian citizen. I was gratified to see friends and family there that morning. But I was sad that Wanda and Amani, Abby and Sophia weren't there. Neither was anyone from my family. But what more can be said? It just wasn't possible financially or logistically. A moment of reflection slowed me down but soon surrounded by family and friends I moved on. I got my picture with the Mountie and Judge Morrow, photos with C&I workers, with my new American/Canadian friend, with friends and family. We went back up to the library and had a reception. Our group was one of the last ones to leave, must be that Mennonite trait of lingering after a service . . .

The rest of the day was relaxed and happy. The Janzens invited the Roths and Kindlers back to their house and we enjoyed food and fellowship. I showed them my 'loot', what I'm taking back to Addis and we all agreed I needed to buy a UHaul box, a third piece of baggage, to take it all back. Then we said good-bye as they headed back to Tavistock/Stratford. I checked a couple more things off my list as well. I stopped in at 1 Woodcroft and was invited to see the work done by the new owners of our old house. They have done amazing work already and it's only just begun. I finally stopped in at our old neighbours house and ended up having supper and watching the Tribe-Bosox game with them. And that was the only damper on the day, the Cleveland Indians didn't win one for me on my special day. So I get to see them one more time (Saturday) before I leave.

Many people were interested in how the citizenship ceremony day would go. Thank you for your interest. Soon I'll be back to describing life in Addis again. I look forward to it.