I am also proud to say that on the morning of 24 March 2011 I received an Email from Canadian Immigration officials informing me that they were ready to issue me with a permanent residency visa. Finally, almost a year to the day that I applied for residency, and 26 months since I began the process - when I started work at Mink Chocolates, I can breathe easy. I can be a long-standing part of Vancouver's young history.
It's not been an easy ride. In fact at times I felt on the edge of oblivion. From doing the paperwork - knowing one missed tickbox, or one photograph submitted with incorrect dimensions could spell disaster; to the waiting period of more than four months without a word of confirmation that my application was filled in correctly. It has been a stressful year.
At any time I could receive a letter stating that my application had been refused. I would have to pack up the life I'd built in Canada for almost three years and jet back to the UK to start again from scratch. But it didn't happen. It's been granted. It's as good as over.
The day after I received the Email that made all my dreams come true I sent the immigration officials my passport. Now they will be attaching my landed immigrant visa, and I will meet with an immigration officer to confirm that I am in fact me, and I will officially "land" in Canada. From that moment on I am just another local. No longer hanging by the thread of a work permit that might not be renewable, no longer worrying that I might have to pack up and leave. Finally I can plan for the future. The world is once again filled with opportunity.
One huge aspect of applying for permanent residency was my ability, of lack thereof, to leave the country. Thinking that I'd be long since sorted by Christmas 2010, the Allen family made grand arrangements for what would be our first Christmas as a full family for probably five years. Tom, my brother, and Tenny, his wife, would be in England from Armenia, and Tissa and I would fly back from Vancouver. We'd all be together finally, Tissa and Tenny could talk Farsi to each other, and my dearest mother would cry!
Unfortunately it didn't happen. It was literally a week until we were due to fly out and I had heard nothing from my visa office. I called the hotline and was informed that since my application was at such a late stage I was strongly recommended to remain in Canada, as if I left I may not be allowed back in. I'd be turned away at the border. Possibly. Also possibly everything would be fine, but it was a serious risk, and not one worth taking. Distraught, I called home and all of our finely honed Christmas arrangements went up in smoke. Hotel bookings cancelled, trips to London and Klagenfurt to visit Tissa's family were lost, connections missed. I managed to salvage my flights at great cost, and now we are booked on another trip to the UK in a few short weeks. Hopefully this time we will be together finally, in the place my adventure began three long years ago, in the green and pleasant land of England.
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