They took me into their homes, cabins and sheds: Growth and gratitude in an N.L. decade
Labour Day, September 2009.
I arrived in St. John's at 2 a.m. Filled with the excitement and apprehension of moving to a new place, I waited for daylight and then rushed outside to explore the city which would be home for the next two years.
The streets were eerily quiet. The wind howled, and the stores, banks and Memorial University's international students' office were all closed. I didn't know anyone, and I was hungry.
It wasn't love at first sight and if I'm completely honest, I stood on the side of the road waiting for a bus and wondered "where am I?" and "what have I done?"
With a Tim Hortons bagel in hand, I went back to my hotel room for the rest of the day, switched on the TV and discovered Criminal Minds. I still have a soft spot for the morbid show.
I didn't know it was a public holiday and with hindsight, it wasn't the best day to arrive. But the involuntary solitude made me reflect.
Staying in N.L. not always an easy choice
Before moving here, I had just spent the past five years in the bustling metropolis of Cape Town, South Africa, and then Washington, D.C.
St. John's was quiet and extremely different, but I made a promise to myself that day to hold off on the comparisons, have an open mind, and try to find what would bring me joy here.
I had no idea then that I would still be here a decade later — again reflecting — but this time full of gratitude and Hallmark movie levels of sentimentality.
The truth is, staying in Newfoundland and Labrador, especially if you're not from here, isn't an obvious and easy choice.
We read reports of the province's low birth rates and declining population while the rest of the country grows. There is no shortage of challenges that could be discussed and need to be addressed but, I'm choosing not to do that today.
Not because they are not important — they are — but because sometimes we need to take stock of the positives and I already mentioned I was sentimental.
Despite the skepticism and confusion of friends and family, I have stayed, like many others and I've loved my time here. With autumn upon us, I want to share a small part of the Newfoundland that I've experienced in the past 10 years: my joy and experiences, lessons and growth.
I want to simply say thank you, and hopefully shed light on how we might be able to encourage more people to stay.
The concept of "home" is complex for me but, I have a comfortable sense of belonging here and feel like I have a place in the St. John's community.
This would never have been possible without the openness, and thoughtfulness of my phenomenal tribe of Newfoundland friends and kind strangers. From the countless weekends I've spent at their cabins, sheds and family homes in Glovertown, New Harbour, Colinet and many others — to making sure I learned how to ride a Ski-Doo and snowboard, went ice fishing and made Jigg's dinner, they've allowed me to experience life as a true local by including me in every facet of their lives.
When I stay for the holidays their parents and extended families open their homes, allow me to join their traditions of either doing a puzzle, play board games or making pizza. I'm treated like a member of their family.
One of my favourite aspects about my time in Newfoundland has been having a front row seat to experiencing the province slowly becoming more diverse.
When I was looking unsuccessfully for a soccer team to join, my friend Aaron Goulding instead invited me to join his ultimate Frisbee team. Over the past five years I've learned a fun new sport with a great team. Please, reach out to anyone new in the city and never underestimate how meaningful and appreciated all these gestures of friendship and inclusivity are.
"I sat next to the CEO of Bluedrop on my flight to Toronto yesterday. They are a great local company in the tech sector and are hiring. I have his business card for you and he's expecting you to send him your resumé."
My kind friend Melissa Royle shared that information, and I've been working at Bluedrop for the past seven years and am grateful for my diverse, funny and smart work family. Without a meaningful job I wouldn't have stayed. If you believe someone is a good fit for a job, connect and vouch for them. I hear immigrants are good workers.
I refer to myself as "spot the dot" here, because I am often the only person of colour in any given situation and I stand out.
During my first year in Newfoundland, I was asked to take pictures with various members of a family as they had never met a person of colour. I agreed, but was shocked and I awkwardly laughed, leaving that experience with the realization that here, I wasn't just Mimi.
I felt the burden of being an ambassador for all 54 countries in Africa.
Over time, similar experiences and conversations would happen and I learned to become comfortable and use them as education opportunities. The same way that I've watched children in Ethiopia who have never seen a white person. They pointed at, giggled and innocently followed tourists because they're different — and that's how I've drawn parallels.
It's a small world and curiosity is universal.
Bigger cities have diversity as the status quo, and it's taken for granted. One of my favourite aspects about my time in Newfoundland has been having a front row seat to experiencing the province slowly becoming more diverse.
What a unique and meaningful opportunity it has been to attend different immigration conferences and events to brainstorm ideas for the future and directly share my thoughts with Minister Ahmed Hussen, and then to organize my own event with Oxfam called Re-Imagining Africa — Two Sides to Every Story.
I now understand the growing pains of multiculturalism from a homogenous society and can empathize with those that don't yet understand the benefits.
At the same time, I am also the same person who recently felt the most irrational sense of joy watching a group of about 10 children from multiple races and cultures chatting and playing at the bus stop on LeMarchant Road in St. John's.
They looked like one of the diverse advertisements for the United Colors of Benetton clothing and I wanted to take a picture of them, but that seemed creepy. I hope they all stay when they're older.
As a vendor at the St. John's Farmers' Market selling Ethiopian food, I happily spend my Saturday with the best clients and some like-minded individuals who see the endless amount of business opportunity in this province. Whether it's Orathai from delicious Yes Thai catering, Mark from Ontario who owns NL Organics, Kevin from Ireland of the famous Old Dublin Bakery, or Kim who makes unique jewelry through Velvet Snow Accessories — they represent hard work and hope for the province, and I implore you all to support local when you can.
Personally, had I lived in a bigger city where I readily had access to Ethiopian food, I would never have started my own catering business, or been as acutely aware to look out for opportunities. And that would have been the biggest shame.
Oh yeah … the weather
Lastly, have I really lived in Newfoundland if I haven't learned to talk about the weather?
I'm an African at heart and hate the cold.
Anyone in my office will attest to the space heater and blanket I use for most of the year. But I was once told that "there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing." They clearly hadn't lived here very long but, the sentiment stuck with me and shifted my outlook of the weather.
I bought good, weather-appropriate clothing, and it's ironic that as a city girl, I've learned to appreciate the outdoors in a place that has the worst weather. That's the magic of the fresh air and humbling landscape of Newfoundland that I've come to love.
If you are new to this province, I hope you'll take the time to stop comparing long enough to see the opportunities available, and find your own joy here.
I don't know where the next decade will take me but so far, it turned out that I was here for a good time and a long time.
Thanks, b'ys!
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