Introduction: I am Audrey

I am an immigrant to Canada from South Africa. We moved out of South Africa 20 years ago for political reasons. Mainly because South Africa is unsafe and we knew the economy would struggle. We did the right thing. We live in a safe and beautiful country with a stable economy. We have jobs, a house, cars and we live near the ocean. But…but. I will always be a 1st generation immigrant. I speak Afrikaans (my mother tongue) at home and with my family who still live in Africa. I have a heavy accent when I speak English and I make grammar mistakes at the end of a day filled with English. I look like all the Canadians around me, I act like a Canadian (they are very polite) and I have a Canadian passport. But, I have African genes. I am white, and I say this because I always feel that being African is almost synonym to being black. I always joke and say that I am an African with the wrong colour. But, my African genes long for my country and my continent. I am so far away from home. Canadians cringe when I still call South Africa ‘home’. Do all immigrants (1st generation) feel this way? I think so. I meet people in Canada from all over the world who all speak their own language at home. I cook South African dishes, celebrate Christmas the South African way, with lamb instead of turkey. I communicate with my family in South Africa on a daily basis. I miss the sun, I miss the South African jokes (they joke about the political situation, the corrupt government and the water crisis in Cape Town). I miss the compassion in my homeland. “Go home then!” a Canadian said in anger last week. “You should be a Canadian after 20 years here. If not — Go home!” I did not answer. You see, home is not there anymore. The South Africa I yearn for is but a fabrication of my mind. I can’t go home, because home is not there anymore.