RomeW
08-04-2006, 23:57
Original Source:
http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=1144273817019&call_pageid=968350130169&StarSource=RSS
Deported family longs to belong
Apr. 6, 2006. 10:35 AM
ISABEL TEOTONIO
STAFF REPORTER
For 17-year-old Alicia Ferreira, mornings are the hardest.
Waking, her memory drifts back to the sweet monotony of a regular day back in Toronto: going off to school; working part time at the grocery store; hanging out with her boyfriend and dreaming of graduating in a few months before heading to college to study early childhood education.
Now her days begin and end with staring at the rolling hills of Portugal where her grandparents toil from sunrise to sunset, thinking: "I don't belong here."
Abruptly deported from Canada two weeks ago, she is a stranger in a strange land, one she left at age 10 and only vaguely remembers. She is in this predicament because of two fateful decisions: her parents' choice to live in Canada illegally, and the government's decision, after seven years, to ship them home.
"My dreams and my future were there, not here," she says, referring to the village of Paredes do Bairro, a tiny patchwork of farms near the city of Aveiro.
"What am I going to do here? Work with my grandparents?" she asked incredulously in a telephone interview, expressing herself far more comfortably in English than Portuguese.
Life has been chaotic since the family's return, said Alicia's mother, Elisabete Ferreira, who preferred to speak in her native tongue. Sitting amid suitcases containing cherished belongings acquired in Toronto over seven years, but hastily packed in a few days, Ferreira explained that her family has no home, no work prospects and savings of just $10,000, fast disappearing.
But the worst of it is fearing that her children have no future.
"Every morning, Alicia is crying," said Ferreira from her in-laws' home, where the family has stayed since arriving in Portugal on March 26.
"In Toronto, my daughter could go to school and work. Here, what will she do in a village, where she can't find work and doesn't even have transport to get to the cities to study?"
Although she was close to graduating from Dante Alighieri Academy, Alicia has been told she'll be put back to Grade 10 if she enrols in Portugal. That the nearest college is a two-hour bus ride away makes her prospects seem even bleaker.
Now, she wonders if she'll ever get to go to college, saying her parents can't afford to send her. At least in Toronto she could work and save for school. But in Paredes do Bairro, jobs are few.
So far, no one in her family has found work. In Toronto, João Ferreira, 39, was a bricklayer; 38-year-old Elisabete worked in a window factory and 20-year-old Licinio split his time between an electronics company and construction work.
It's a life they're determined to return to. The couple hopes to be allowed back someday on a temporary work program. Their children, meanwhile, think getting married to the boyfriend and girlfriend left behind is the only route back, but neither is ready to tie the knot.
"For now we'll stay here," said Elisabete, ruling out a move to a bigger city. "Right now we don't have the head to think or dream big. We'll decide later what to do with our future."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
`All I think about is Toronto — the people and places I left behind'
Maria de Azevedo Alves
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Licinio echoes his mother's sentiments: "I'm just taking it day by day and not thinking about the future."
Elisabete remembers the carefully decorated home they rented in the west end, their close-knit circle of friends and family, and even the Honda they purchased for $12,000 but were forced to give away to relatives in the mad rush of their final days here.
"Right when we had our feet firmly planted in the ground, they cut our legs," she said.
The story of the Ferreiras — who came to visit relatives in 1999 and stayed on to work in the underground economy — is typical of the families deported to Portugal recently. Sources say that by Saturday as many as 100 Portuguese households in the GTA will have received removal orders.
Immigration Minister Monte Solberg has said that while he is sympathetic to the plight of deportees, immigration laws must be upheld and any sort of amnesty program is a "low priority."
It's estimated about 200,000 people, from many nationalities, are in Canada illegally. Some observers — particularly in the construction industry — argue that current immigration policy doesn't mesh with labour needs and that illegal residents employed in such trades should be granted legal avenues to remain.
"I wish the government of Canada gave us workers a chance to stay — we never did anyone any harm, we never got involved in any problems, our kids never got messed up in anything," Elisabete said, still trying to make sense of the whirlwind of events.
In 2000, an immigration consultant advised the family to apply for legal status on humanitarian grounds. After that was denied in 2003, the consultant suggested applying for refugee status.
They thought that idea odd, since democratic Portugal has no record of repression, but figured the consultant knew best. So, with reservations, they paid $4,500 for advice that in the end got them deported.
On March 17 the family was stunned to learn from Immigration Canada they had to be gone by month's end.
"The flight over was really hard — we left family and abandoned everything from one moment to another," Elisabete said. "I and my daughter cried the whole way over on the plane."
Maria de Azevedo Alves understands the anguish of that flight. She and her 19-year-old son, Rafael Alves Belchior, were deported March 26 after 7 1/2 years living here illegally. Alves waitressed while her son went to school and then started a moving business.
"I feel like I'm going to wake up any minute now and I'll be back in Toronto," said Alves in a telephone interview from Bombarral, north of Lisbon, where she is staying with friends. "All I think about is Toronto — the people and places I left behind."
But amid the heartache she counts herself lucky for having landed a waitressing job, unlike her son, who is still seeking work.
During the day, she distracts herself with work, but at night, the pangs of loneliness and longing set in.
"I miss everything — my friends, my boyfriend," she said wistfully. "I want to return and need to get informed about how to do that, but first I need to organize my life."
Near the end of the interview, her voice filled with melancholy as she asked: "Are you really calling from Toronto? Oh, what I would give to be able to reach through the phone and be there right now."
On this I'm pretty torn. On the one hand, it disgusts me that they're calling out for our sympathy when they quite clearly broke the law, and I don't have any sympathy for that. On the other hand, they were given quite a bum ride- here they were, working and contributing to the economy and yet the Canadian Government couldn't accomodate them- I think that's pretty upsetting. It's not like these guys were just sitting around collecting welfare, then of course I'd want to ship those lazy people back to where they were.
I'm not going to hold out hope for improvement- with the Conservatives in power, and, judging by Monte Solberg's unsympathetic rhetoric I doubt they'll move to change immigration laws so quickly. Sad considering Canada's renowned for its "open-ness".
What do you think?
http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=1144273817019&call_pageid=968350130169&StarSource=RSS
Deported family longs to belong
Apr. 6, 2006. 10:35 AM
ISABEL TEOTONIO
STAFF REPORTER
For 17-year-old Alicia Ferreira, mornings are the hardest.
Waking, her memory drifts back to the sweet monotony of a regular day back in Toronto: going off to school; working part time at the grocery store; hanging out with her boyfriend and dreaming of graduating in a few months before heading to college to study early childhood education.
Now her days begin and end with staring at the rolling hills of Portugal where her grandparents toil from sunrise to sunset, thinking: "I don't belong here."
Abruptly deported from Canada two weeks ago, she is a stranger in a strange land, one she left at age 10 and only vaguely remembers. She is in this predicament because of two fateful decisions: her parents' choice to live in Canada illegally, and the government's decision, after seven years, to ship them home.
"My dreams and my future were there, not here," she says, referring to the village of Paredes do Bairro, a tiny patchwork of farms near the city of Aveiro.
"What am I going to do here? Work with my grandparents?" she asked incredulously in a telephone interview, expressing herself far more comfortably in English than Portuguese.
Life has been chaotic since the family's return, said Alicia's mother, Elisabete Ferreira, who preferred to speak in her native tongue. Sitting amid suitcases containing cherished belongings acquired in Toronto over seven years, but hastily packed in a few days, Ferreira explained that her family has no home, no work prospects and savings of just $10,000, fast disappearing.
But the worst of it is fearing that her children have no future.
"Every morning, Alicia is crying," said Ferreira from her in-laws' home, where the family has stayed since arriving in Portugal on March 26.
"In Toronto, my daughter could go to school and work. Here, what will she do in a village, where she can't find work and doesn't even have transport to get to the cities to study?"
Although she was close to graduating from Dante Alighieri Academy, Alicia has been told she'll be put back to Grade 10 if she enrols in Portugal. That the nearest college is a two-hour bus ride away makes her prospects seem even bleaker.
Now, she wonders if she'll ever get to go to college, saying her parents can't afford to send her. At least in Toronto she could work and save for school. But in Paredes do Bairro, jobs are few.
So far, no one in her family has found work. In Toronto, João Ferreira, 39, was a bricklayer; 38-year-old Elisabete worked in a window factory and 20-year-old Licinio split his time between an electronics company and construction work.
It's a life they're determined to return to. The couple hopes to be allowed back someday on a temporary work program. Their children, meanwhile, think getting married to the boyfriend and girlfriend left behind is the only route back, but neither is ready to tie the knot.
"For now we'll stay here," said Elisabete, ruling out a move to a bigger city. "Right now we don't have the head to think or dream big. We'll decide later what to do with our future."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
`All I think about is Toronto — the people and places I left behind'
Maria de Azevedo Alves
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Licinio echoes his mother's sentiments: "I'm just taking it day by day and not thinking about the future."
Elisabete remembers the carefully decorated home they rented in the west end, their close-knit circle of friends and family, and even the Honda they purchased for $12,000 but were forced to give away to relatives in the mad rush of their final days here.
"Right when we had our feet firmly planted in the ground, they cut our legs," she said.
The story of the Ferreiras — who came to visit relatives in 1999 and stayed on to work in the underground economy — is typical of the families deported to Portugal recently. Sources say that by Saturday as many as 100 Portuguese households in the GTA will have received removal orders.
Immigration Minister Monte Solberg has said that while he is sympathetic to the plight of deportees, immigration laws must be upheld and any sort of amnesty program is a "low priority."
It's estimated about 200,000 people, from many nationalities, are in Canada illegally. Some observers — particularly in the construction industry — argue that current immigration policy doesn't mesh with labour needs and that illegal residents employed in such trades should be granted legal avenues to remain.
"I wish the government of Canada gave us workers a chance to stay — we never did anyone any harm, we never got involved in any problems, our kids never got messed up in anything," Elisabete said, still trying to make sense of the whirlwind of events.
In 2000, an immigration consultant advised the family to apply for legal status on humanitarian grounds. After that was denied in 2003, the consultant suggested applying for refugee status.
They thought that idea odd, since democratic Portugal has no record of repression, but figured the consultant knew best. So, with reservations, they paid $4,500 for advice that in the end got them deported.
On March 17 the family was stunned to learn from Immigration Canada they had to be gone by month's end.
"The flight over was really hard — we left family and abandoned everything from one moment to another," Elisabete said. "I and my daughter cried the whole way over on the plane."
Maria de Azevedo Alves understands the anguish of that flight. She and her 19-year-old son, Rafael Alves Belchior, were deported March 26 after 7 1/2 years living here illegally. Alves waitressed while her son went to school and then started a moving business.
"I feel like I'm going to wake up any minute now and I'll be back in Toronto," said Alves in a telephone interview from Bombarral, north of Lisbon, where she is staying with friends. "All I think about is Toronto — the people and places I left behind."
But amid the heartache she counts herself lucky for having landed a waitressing job, unlike her son, who is still seeking work.
During the day, she distracts herself with work, but at night, the pangs of loneliness and longing set in.
"I miss everything — my friends, my boyfriend," she said wistfully. "I want to return and need to get informed about how to do that, but first I need to organize my life."
Near the end of the interview, her voice filled with melancholy as she asked: "Are you really calling from Toronto? Oh, what I would give to be able to reach through the phone and be there right now."
On this I'm pretty torn. On the one hand, it disgusts me that they're calling out for our sympathy when they quite clearly broke the law, and I don't have any sympathy for that. On the other hand, they were given quite a bum ride- here they were, working and contributing to the economy and yet the Canadian Government couldn't accomodate them- I think that's pretty upsetting. It's not like these guys were just sitting around collecting welfare, then of course I'd want to ship those lazy people back to where they were.
I'm not going to hold out hope for improvement- with the Conservatives in power, and, judging by Monte Solberg's unsympathetic rhetoric I doubt they'll move to change immigration laws so quickly. Sad considering Canada's renowned for its "open-ness".
What do you think?