My life is a chip in your pile. Ante up!
You may or may not have noticed that I have not been well as of
late. I suppose that it would be hard to observe this directly, as I
have not been complaining excessively about anything in my life. Truth
to be told, I think I have been in a slight depression. My recent
excessive catboxing may be an indication of this. Some things
have not been well. And now I have been given a risky opportunity to
improve everything. The question is, how much of a gambler do I
consider myself?
I need to explain something of my situation. I am twenty-three years
old. I was born in Mexico City, and spent nineteen years there. For the past
four years, I have been living in Montréal, Canada, working on
my university degree. This summer I graduated with an honours degree
in mathematics. I strongly want to go to grad school and do a masters,
except that I have debts with the university and my younger brother
that prevent me from going right away. I first need a well-paying
job. University grants and scholarships are not going to cover the
full extent of my debts.
Compounded with these difficulties is the question of national
affiliation. I'm a foreigner living in Canada, one of many, and I have
developed a sincere love for this country, particularly for the
Quebeckers, for whom my plea is forgiveness for my not yet
perfect French. I'll still be able to hold a conversation with you,
don't worry. To them and the rest of the country, I congratulate
you. Your national identity, your symbols,
your sense of humour, your people,
your diversity, your two official languages
and countless unofficial ones in the larger
cities, your writers, your poets,
your natural landscapes, your oceans, your open amiability and friendliness, your relaxed
attitudes and political opinions, all of it, all of Canada, how I
wish I could call it my own too. When living in Canada, no other
country in the world seems quite good enough for living.
I have been spending this summer working on a research project for a
professor, looking for a job so that I may stay in the country, and
spending time with Talia, whom I met the first week of summer. She has
left today to spend a year in New Zealand. This had been decided
before we met. What I thought to be a summer fling turned into
something passionately more intense. The separation we knew was
inevitable is starting to take its toll on my happiness, and perhaps
on my health too. I have been sick for this past month. Coughing,
tummy aches, and recently fevers and nausea. Yesterday I went to get a
chest x-ray and some blood tests. Hopefully the doctor can find out
what's wrong with me.
I have also been so far unsuccessful on my job search. True, I had
other things to worry about, and perhaps I haven't been concentrating
enough on finding employment. But without a job, I cannot stay in
Canada. First, because I can't afford it, and second, because the
government won't allow me to stay if I am a burden. So I am more or
less forced to move back to Mexico, back to my parents' residence
(actually, my mother's, probably), and to try my luck finding a job
there. Talia also knew at the beginning of summer that this could
possibly be my eventual fate. We took the plunge anyways. Fools rush
in, I suppose.
It is this prospect of going back to Mexico that makes me so
unhappy. Not that I wouldn't want to see my family again, to be back
in my country and be a full citizen again instead of a foreigner. But
I would be going back defeated, lovesick, unemployed and in debt, and
back to being a dependent. I don't think my mom would let me
contribute to the rent if I moved in to her apartment, nor am I sure
that I could contribute. The upside is that I will be spending less
money in Mexico, and that I have better chances of finding a job there
because my family knows people who know people, and because I would
again be part of a certain Mexican aristocracy that knows how to take
care of itself.
My mother understands the downside and wants to salvage my pride as
much as I do. This is why she has consulted with businessman friends
of hers and yesterday proposed the following: putting her car as
collateral, she will obtain on interest a loan of appreciable size,
which she will give to me. I am to use the money to live for another
two months in Canada looking for a job and to begin the paperwork
towards becoming a permanent resident (one of the reasons I haven't
started the paperwork for residency is that the fees are more than I
can pay at the moment). She believes in me, and the way she puts it is
that after spending all those thousands of dollars on my education,
this investment (she's going to invest on me!) is
insignificant in comparison. I have proven myself over the past four
years by getting a degree in high standing, she believes. Don't throw
out the cake because it's missing the cherry on
top, she says.
And it's not just a matter of pride. Love factors in. Love for the
country and love for Talia. I will have a better chance of
seeing her again if I secure a foothold in Canada, instead of dropping
to my Mexican safety net. I've been given an opportunity to use a
stronger pickaxe as I strive to climb to the top.
This is very, very exciting. This offer has knocked me out of my
malaise. Just the idea of spending two months in a dedicated job
search, with no other distractions, nothing else to do but search,
search, search, with a degree from a reputable
university, well, this all makes me very hopeful and determined. I
think I can do it. It would be a fighting chance. Perhaps I should
take it.
And a risk it is. The stakes would be piled higher. Double or
nothing. Double the penalty if I fail, and double the winnings if I
succeed. To become a full Canadian resident with a well-paying job, or
to return twice defeated and deeper in debt. Time is running short. My
parents need to set things in motion either way very soon. They have
given me until tonight to make a decision.
I want to take it. I believe in the gambler, the risk-taker, the
adventurer. I'm a hopeless romantic. I
believe in good fortune for those who strive for it. I believe in
Canada, that she will help me if I help myself. I am optimistic,
a dreamer anew. I can make it happen.
Whoa, hold your horses right there, buddy. Back to
reality. I asked for my
brother's opinion. Though younger than me, barely nineteen, he is also
wiser than I in practical matters. He is the one working on a degree
in business administration while I get the one in abstract
mathematics. He recommends that the risk is not worth it. Come back to
Mexico, your family misses you, odds are in your favour over here. His
opinion carries a lot of weight, because he has proven his ability to
amass small fortunes for a variety of personal purposes, because he is
one of my creditors, and because he is my brother, damnit.
It is an interesting problem. I am split. A very important decision is
coming up, almost here already. Fortune favours the bold? Or better
safe than sorry? Am I feeling lucky today?