Canada's Money Troubles

The Harper Government (that’s what Dear Leader likes us to call it) promised a balanced budget, and look! Finance Minister Joe Oliver delivered… sort of. We’re supposed to overlook that the government is hardly spending on anything, and it borrowed from the contingency fund to deliver a meagre $1.4 billion surplus. That shouldn’t be hard; Canadians are highly skilled at not paying too much attention to politics, or anything happening in their country, except for maybe the grand opening of the next big box store.

Do I sound harsh? That’s because my people can be rather arrogant. They proudly wave the maple leaf flag and boast that this is the greatest country on earth while ignoring whatever isn’t spoon fed to them in a quick sound bite, and failing to turn up at the polls on Election Day. That’s why we’ve suffered under the Conservatives for NINE long years. Voter turnout in the last federal election, which gave the Conservatives a majority, was 61.1%. While this was an improvement as compared to the previous 58.8% turnout, the big picture is that Canadians have been voting in fewer numbers since the 1990s.

And if Stephen Harper’s terrorism fear mongering continues to achieve results, we could have yet another four years of him as our prime minister. Interestingly, that’s pretty much what the 2015–2016 budget is about: throwing a little money at defence to reassure the Conservative base that our government is serious about getting the bad guys at home, abroad, and on the Internet. The highlights are here.

Terrorism works as a great distraction; I’ll give the Conservatives credit for that. Meanwhile, reports are coming out stating that 42% of first-time home buyers are getting the money for the down payment from their parents! Am I the only one who is alarmed by this? Fortunately, these people’s parents have the money to give; what about the next generation? At this rate, they won’t have access to the “Bank of Mom and Dad” like their parents did.

Canada has a problem, whether Canadians want to acknowledge it or not. Should we be like Joe Oliver and “leave that to Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s granddaughter to solve”?

Talk to Your Kids

When I started writing again, I vowed not to get too personal in this blog. But there are times when there is a reason to open up a bit.

I haven’t written for a while. I could come up with numerous excuses, but the truth is that I’ve been censoring myself—something I promised myself I wouldn’t do. There is never a shortage of topics to grab among all the activity buzzing around my brain.

I’m a fairly open book, but there is something I’ve never discussed before. If my mother was still alive, she would be really upset to hear this, because it happened under her nose without her knowledge. When I was a kid, I really disliked myself. I didn’t really understand why, besides being affected by the constant bullying and the reinforcement that I was ugly and basically inadequate. That stuff stays with you, no matter how strong you are or how well-adjusted you become as an adult.

I used to cry and bang my head against the headboard of my bed and hope that I would knock myself out and not wake up. I remember, I started to get sloppy and would visibly bruise myself. I honestly don’t remember if my mom noticed, but if she enquired, I’m sure I had an excuse that she bought. Fortunately, this was the extent of my threshold for pain; otherwise, I might have inflicted harm on myself in other ways. I would also pray to die in my sleep, so I wouldn’t have to face another day. And then I would wake up in the morning and have to deal with all the same crap and the self-loathing.

We all struggle. Compared to a lot of other kids, I had it easy. But I’m sharing this because I worry that the world in which we’re living isn’t making communication easier. I was an introverted kid, who didn’t talk to anyone. I didn’t have a very open line of communication with my elders, so I felt alone, which no one should feel.

It wasn’t until I reached my late 20s that I learned to really accept myself and recognize what I have to offer.

I think adults take a lot for granted. They forget what it was like to be a kid. More importantly, they forget that kids don’t rationalize and understand things the way they do, now, as adults, who have the benefits of experience and knowledge. No one asked me how I was doing, if there was anything I wanted to talk about. That probably would have made a difference to me. I wouldn’t have felt so alone. I wouldn’t have questioned whether anyone cared about me.

Please, spend time with your kids. Listen to them. Let them know that you want to hear what they think and feel.

International

Inhabiting two worlds is a little odd. Every time you leave one for the other, something in you switches off or gets left behind. You may have to speak another language and/or dialect, you may have to hold back where you would otherwise not think about your actions and words, you have to learn to readjust, and most importantly, you have to say goodbye.

I’ve been doing this for more than a decade. As exciting as it can be, and as grateful as I am for having this incredible, enriching life, I am constantly testing my limits and those of the people who care about me the most. Yet I keep reminding myself that what I gain far exceeds any loss that occurs in the process of leaving.

It is always strange, albeit familiar, to wake up in a different bed, in a different house, in a different country for the first time in a while. It can feel like something you’re observing, rather than something you’re experiencing first-hand. It’s like those 24 or more hours of travelling fade away and you’re left wondering what the hell happened, before seamlessly resuming your life in that place. Well, almost seamlessly; there is the unavoidable jet lag that messes with you and reminds you that you were indeed somewhere else yesterday.

I never really had any expectations about my life being easy or difficult. That must help me live like this. There have been times when I’ve envied others, but if this wasn’t my reality, where would I be? What would I be doing? Who would have taken up the position of my extended family? Would I be happy with myself? It’s best to deal with what one has, as opposed to wondering what might have been under different circumstances. There are things in life which we can control and others which we cannot. I have very little to complain about.

So, I won’t complain.