A Refugee Named Marie - A Good Apple That We Need to Remember in These Rotten Times

I met Marie while taking a course in floristry. At the time, she had recently retired from a career in Quebec's civil service, and was looking for a way to keep active in both body and mind. Her motivation in signing up for the course was more than just a love of flowers; she had noticed herself getting a tad forgetful now and then, and, coming from a family with a predisposition towards Alzheimer's disease, decided that the best defense was a strong offense. That meant not letting her mind atrophy during her retirement.

But Marie's story is about more than just trying to keep dementia at bay. In today's world, with its penchant for manufacturing unworthy heroes, her struggle might quickly be turned into the story of one woman's epic heroic battle against a horrible disease. I doubt that Marie would want it to be seen that way. She is so much more; cancer-survivor, hard-working immigrant made good, and refugee.

Marie's story began in Vietnam, sometime after the fall of Saigon. Her family, or at least certain members of it, had landed on the wrong side of the communist government. As a result, life became very hard for the entire family. Eventually, her sister's husband was arrested, and ended up incarcerated in a camp so far away from civilization that the only way to reach it was to travel as far as the the buses and trains could take you, and then complete the journey on foot. It was on one such visit that Marie's brother-in-law asked a seemingly innocuous question about how his brother was doing, and asked Marie and her sister to extend his greetings to the other man.

The two women understood this to be a veiled message instructing them to flee the country. The brother referred to had already escaped Vietnam and was now living in the USA.

That is how Marie became one of the thousands of refugees who would come to be known as "the Vietnamese Boat People".

image: pixabay

Marie was one of the lucky ones. Many of the people attempting to flee Vietnam didn't make it out. The government was well aware of the situation, and had sent patrols out with orders to stop and inspect any boats they suspected of carrying hidden passengers. As one such patrol approached the fishing boat Marie was on, the passengers quickly hid themselves beneath tarpaulins. It was then that one of her fellow refugees started praying; it was a Catholic prayer to a Catholic God. The patrol came closer. It stopped the boat and questioned the captain... and let the small fishing vessel pass.

On that day, Marie decided to become a Catholic. She believed, and still believes, that the prayers of that one individual saved everyone on the boat.

In those days, the standard process for a refugee was to make landfall in a safe country, end up in a refugee camp, and from there apply for asylum in whatever country would take you. Countries set quotas, and in some cases, families were separated when one country accepted some members, while another accepted other members. Quebec, being a French-speaking enclave, was happy to accept Vietnamese refugees since they were coming from a former French colony. Marie eventually ended up being accepted by Canada, and was taken in by Quebec.

Her story could have ended there. She could have found a job, gotten married, had children and lived a quiet life in her new homeland. But if there is one thing Marie was, it was determined. She was determined to reunite with what was left of her once-large family, and do it on Canadian soil. That meant clawing her way up the employment ladder, until she reached the point where the Canadian and Quebec governments would accept her as being financially capable of sponsoring her relatives.

In those days, that was no small task for a single, immigrant woman.

So Marie worked during the day, and enrolled in university on the side. She lived in cheap apartments where the landlords had to be dragged before the Quebec Rental Board on a regular basis for failure to do repairs, perform maintenance, or for demanding sky-high rent increases on units that offered sub-standard living conditions. To be honest, slumlords abound in Quebec, and she moved frequently during this period in her life.

Most importantly, though, Marie worked hard to perfect her French.

Then, one day, she heard tell of something she called 'the lottery'. No, it wasn't something you bet money on. It was a very limited chance to land a job in the Quebec government. Every once in a while, the government held something akin to a massive screening of potential employees. Round by round they eliminated the dross, until only a few select individuals were left. The winner in this employment competition got the prize of a government job. Marie was determined to enter the next one.

She did, and all of her hard work paid off. She was assigned to the Quebec Immigration Department, where she helped to interview and screen other refugees. The advantages of hiring people with first-hand understanding of conditions in various countries cannot be understated when it comes to the screening process. Marie's language skills were also much needed in easing communication between the applicants and the Quebec government. But, above and beyond all of that, was her integrity and loyalty to her new homeland. No bad apple would ever get past her!

In time, Marie was able to bring what was left of her family over. Most importantly, after a long struggle with government regulations, she managed to bring her elderly mother to live with her here. She took on the role of care-giver when age and illness crept up on the elderly woman, and the Alzheimer's set in. Then, at some point, Marie herself became ill. Cancer. She fought against that too, and won.

Marie's story of struggle, integration, and service to her new country isn't unique. I've met other Vietnamese 'boat people' who integrated and gave back to the community in one way or another, as well as refugees from places in Eastern Europe, Iran, and the Middle East. The stories of their escapes are, in some cases, too horrific to repeat.

The reason I am telling you Marie's story is because, since late 2016, the Canada-USA border has seen a massive influx of so-called 'asylum seekers'. They are crossing illegally, at unauthorized entry points, and the reason for using illegal points is that if they crossed at the legal ones, they would be turned back. By crossing at illegal points, they hope to get around Canada's immigration system and take advantage of various loop-holes in order to stay here. They are following the squatter's maxim of 'once you've established yourself on the land, it's nigh on impossible to get you off of it'. Worse yet, despite our government stating earlier this summer that the situation won't impact other refugees and immigrants, waiting time to process claims has now shot up to 15 months and is expected to become even longer.

At one point this summer, Haitians 'fleeing Donald Trump' became so numerous that one of Montreal's landmarks, our Olympic Stadium, had to be turned into a temporary shelter to house them all.

image: pixabay (Stade Olympic)

Then, to top it off, our local media began running stories about the wonderful determination that some of these people showed in trying to find their own housing, and the awful hurdles that they had to face in the process. Yes, landlords were demanding rental deposits, references, and proof of income! How discriminatory! How unfair!

How can a landlord ask the same of these 'refugees' as they do of other people? As they do, in fact, of other refugees coming in through legal channels?

The problem is that legitimate refugees are now getting lumped together with what can only be called 'fake refugees'. Sadly, the real ones are paying the price, not only in the waiting times to have their applications processed, but also in public opinion. The bad apples are making the whole basket look like it is rotten.

It is at times such as these that we have to remember people like Marie, a legitimate refugee who came to Quebec with the best intention of all: to become a part of, and to contribute to, the country offered to take her in when she had nowhere to go. People like Marie should always be welcome.

As for the rest, well, I'm sorry but that's what legal immigration channels are for.