By Nada (Vukovic) Hildebrand
I am a first generation Canadian born in B.C. My parents came to Canada in the 1960s from two small picturesque Croatian villages not far from the northern Adriatic Sea. Life in the villages was affirming with seasonal agricultural routines that brought simple comfort and familiar satisfaction to most farm families.
So why did they leave family, friends and the place of their ancestry? Three reasons — local political strife, a Canadian government initiative inviting immigrants to the land of opportunity and cousins who had arrived in Canada earlier, acting as a support family.
Many men left Croatia during the early 1960s, but the exit had to happen secretly. The Yugoslavian government considered these departures illegal and individuals could be prosecuted. My father, along with a small group of cousins and friends, left quietly one night, on foot. Their destination was the border shared between Italy and Yugoslavia, where they would receive political asylum and a safe place to stay until they were assigned their travelling papers to Canada, the U.S.A. or Australia. If they were discovered by Yugoslavian soldiers at any point on their covert journey, they would be escorted to prison.
His journey continued with an ocean crossing to Halifax, followed by a wintery train trip to northern B.C. for a job in the snowy mountains. His accommodation was primitive – a small cabin that would freeze during the day and warm up hours after he stoked the wood stove upon returning from a long day of work, alone. My father had left behind a sister, brother, mother and father, many cousins, aunts and uncles, and his newly married wife who was pregnant with their first child. He would not kiss his wife again until four years later when she came to B.C. He would not get to hold his first born until she was four years old.
My father arrived with one suitcase and an inability to speak English. But he could work. And work he did. Three years after arriving in Canada, with the help of several Canadians and other immigrants, he eventually saved enough money for a down payment on a home within walking distance of schools, downtown and the hospital. He did not own a vehicle until 1974, years after I was born. A fond childhood memory is taking the bus with my father to Koop’s Bike Shop, where he purchased a new bike for my fifth birthday, then loaded it onto a bus to bring it home. Over the years, two more siblings arrived and we moved into a larger home, four houses away. My parents still live in that house.
I remember the large community of Croatians meeting on many weekends at the Croatian Community Hall on the outskirts of town. While the support and compassion of Canadians provided the necessary platform for new Canadians to integrate into their neighbourhoods, the connection created among fellow immigrants helped in healing the sadness of leaving their ancestral home. My parents only returned once to their homeland, to give their ageing parents one last hug.
I often imagine the life I would have encountered had my parents stayed in their bucolic villages. I am sure I would have moved to the capital of Zagreb for better employment and school opportunities. I would have experienced the civil war in the early 1990s. I would have experienced the joy of declaring independence from a communist government, formerly known as Yugoslavia.
Instead, born in Canada, I experienced the opportunity for safe schools, safe work environments and safe investments. I experienced compassion and encouragement from kind neighbours, teachers, and employers. With my Canadian passport, I travelled to many countries which contributed to my awe of complex systems shaping the planet and humanity.
As a first-generation Canadian I am grateful for every opportunity, every encouraging word, and every act of cooperation I witness among neighbours and governments. Canada is a large country with a large capacity to care for people and for the environment.
This cultural capacity to care — about building diversity, equal opportunity, and hope — is what makes Canada a thriving country that I am happy to call home.
Nada (Vukovic) Hildebrand is a first-generation Canadian who lives in Summerland.