Carlo from Sault Ste. Marie

As I waited for the much expected call from the Kelly services, I hopelessly continued to plague the recrutiers with my resume and cover letters with unrealistic self praises. Whatever works - I told myself. It was one Monday when I received a request for inteview from a software company. Yahoooo! No, that wasn't an ad for the software giant. That was a victory cry, of course. However, the interview couldn;t have gone any worse.

Within ten minutes of arriving there I met two gentlemen - a DBA and a UNIX administrator, both seemed to have some kind of agenda against the USA based work force because they literally started to hammer me in their areas of expertise when I believed I was interviewing for a test lead position. My expertise was in test automation and performance testing but due to lack of demand I often worked as a System Integration test lead. My knowledge in UNIX and Databases were workable but definitely could use some sharpening. Anyway, I didn't have to be a genius to figure out when I was joining there. Never.

I digested that graciously, tried to. More resumes flew through electronic highways. Another poor soul bought my self- proclaimed expertise and extended an invitation to show up for a discussion. Now, this one went better than I ever expected. After three hours of interview with several different people the lady manager seemed to be very happy with my in depth knowledge and was very eager to consider me for the position but I would have to come back for another three hour interview. Hey, that sounded very positive. My hopes ran high. When do I come back for the next one? Next week - as always.

Once back in the apartment a lot of planning ensues - starring Mili and I. The money that we had was sufficient to carry us for a few more months - so there was no immediate danger. However, we really wanted to create a safe buffer zone. A month has passed by and no money flew in. This was very stressful. More resumes.

Before the week ended I heard from another recruiter. This was a contract position with Ontario Lottery for six months. The job location was in Sault Ste. Marie (pronounced Soo Sent Marie). I had no clue where it was, never heard about it, but spent no time in accepting the interview request.

The interview was short and quick. QA Manager Carlo, an Italian man, tall and balding with a really friendly face and fast speaking trend was quick to make up his mind.

- You know where Sault Ste. Marie is, right?

- Oh yes. I checked the map. Salt S.T.E. Marie is located in North West Ontario right by Lake Superior.

- It's pronounced Soo Sent Marie. It's about seven hundred kilometres from Toronto. You are okay to go there?

-Oh yes. I love to travel. I have been in many places when I was working in USA.

I eagerly pointed out at my resume.

Carlo was easily convinced. - When can you join?

- Anytime.

- Okay. How about next week?

- Perfect.

Carlo promised to get back to me by the following week.

I braced myself with hope. A second interview with the first company went well. The issue came up with the salary expectation. The full time offer was too low and I opted for a higher number believing that the manager was still awed by my depth of knowledge. Just because I was desperate for a job didn't mean I couldn't play the burgaining game. I was promised that I'll hear from them, soon.

Days passed by. The following week came. I heard from none. Mili was mad with me for asking too much. I was about to tear my hairs off when Kelly services called. They had a job for me. Two three days a week. Starting form the next day. I would have to show up sharp at ten to this manufacturing plant. What the heck! I tried to take it lightly. This was defintiely temporary, I told myself.

The following day, dressed in my worst jeans and a tee-shirt as I was about to leave the house came a call from Ontario Lottery. I was offered a contract position for six months - just as Carlo said. Mili had mixed reaction. Taking this job meant packing up and leave for Sault Ste Marie. There was no way we were going to get separated. She was coming with me. I knew it was going to be difficult but we were already used to it. Since our marriage four years ago we had already went through five adobe changes. This could have been just another one if the region wasn't so unknown to us. None of our friends in Toronto had any idea about this town, none could actually pronounced it even half right. Nevertheless we made up our mind. It would be an adventure - we tried to look at the bright side.

Incidentally, the other company also came up with an offer couple of days later. Unfortunately, the money was poor, especially in comparison to what the contract job offered. Even though we really wanted to stay in Toronto as that's where we had some acquaintances the extra money was too much to ignore. Three days later we packed up as much stuff as we could in our four-door 1996 Toyota Corolla, locked our apartment and hit the unknown roads. I had already rented an apartment using the internet in Sault Sent Marie. Once settled I would come back and get our stuff from Toronto. A two months notice was already given. There would be some monetary loss but not agonizingly too much. We looked forward for the new town. The only person we knew there was Carlo, the QA Manager. It was indeed an adventure.

Gimme a Job

Migration is not for faint hearts. You wouldn't know what I mean unless you have gone through one. It's a truly painful experience seeing your savings depleting by the day. On the other hand finding a suitable job in your new country can be more challenging than you may have bargained for. I have seen desperate immigrants rushing into really low paid, low status janitorial type jobs in restaurants or stores. Obviously that was not something that I planned to do unless I was totally helpless. Not that you would find one of those jobs that easily, not unless you already know somebody to give you a good reference. Toronto is a bustling city with tremendous amount of diversity but yet for a newcomer all this may seem very hostile, very unfriendly.

The family friend - Jamshed bhai and his wife Nahid bhabi - who we stayed with for a few days lived in the same apartment complex as we did. They had migrated from USA as well. I didn't know their circumstances and never inquired. Obviously things didn't work out there. Nobody in their right mind would ever come to cold Canada from its southern neighbour unless they run out of any workable alternative. Jamshed bhai was a software professional back in Connecticut. Here he had to settle for a low profile manufacturing job, on part time basis. I learned that the manufacturing jobs were most popular among highly educated and skilled new immigrants as it saved them from being humiliated in the relatively easy to find store jobs.

I kind of knew all this even before I made the trip. I did a lot of search in the internet before applying for Canadian immigration. Before making the trip I had made up my mind to deal with whatever comes. For me it was point of no return. I did not want to go back to Bangladesh. My love for my country was not any less than my compatriots but I simply couldn’t envision myself dealing with the ‘no law, no service, only corruption’ type settings in every level of governance. So there I was - here in Canada.

Fortunately, my situation was not as bad as many others who had migrated directly from their native countries located all over the world. I had a higher degree from an American university and years of job experience in the IT sector. Deep inside I kind of expected that my degree and experience would land me a job in the local market.

When a whole month with all 31 days passed by and nobody asked for me to come and ‘discuss the position’ I knew it was time for me to lower my goal and start looking into other things. Work is work. As long as it pays, I’ll do it. So, I made the trip to a local Kelly Services office, an organization with hundreds of outlets well known for helping people find low paying jobs indoor or outdoor. A well dressed gentleman received me there and the conversation went:

- You have good education and obviously great experience. How would you feel working in a factory?

- Umm... factory? What kind of factory?

- Manufacturing, of course. Nothing to panic. All you'll be doing is to carry some steel chunks from point A to B. Not heavy at all. Barely 10-15 pounds. Eight hours a day. Good pay. 12 dollars/hour. The only thing is you must have a car. They may call anytime. You know, this is not a regular position. When one of their regulars don't come they look for ... you know ... part timers. Sounds good?

- Oh ya. For sure. How heavy is 10-15 pounds?

- Ha ha ha. Don't worry about that. It's nothing. You are a strong man.

Of course, I was. Don't be ridiculous. I tried to smile. - When do I start?

- Oh well, we don't know. They would call when they need. You have to be ready to go anytime.

We shook hands and I stepped out feeling all dried up inside. All those dreadful views that I had observed back in Dhaka, my native city, - the rickshaw pushers, the cart pullers, the vegetable vendors walking door to door in 100 plus Fahrenheit temperature - zoomed across my mind. There you go dude.