LIVING From Partry to Toronto: An emigrant’s tale

SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET?Mike Heneghan, a new addition to the Irish community in Canada.

From Partry to Toronto


Mike Heneghan from Cloonee, Party, on becoming one of the Irish diaspora

Since I’ve arrived, I’ve seen sunny Toronto, and I’ve seen torrentially raining Toronto. Which got me thinking of home, at the start of my second week as a potential member of the emerging 21st-century Irish diaspora.
My girlfriend and I are waiting to view a house and killing time, nursing a green tea in the Tim Horton’s (a Canadian doughnut-and-coffee franchise), on College Street.
We mis-googled the public transport on the way here (a mixture of streetcars, subways and buses), and had to walk over the horizon on a street that circled the Earth: Toronto is the fourth largest city in North America.
But what brought me here?
Honestly, what excites me most is the opportunity for adventure, which is what I feel is motivating most of the Irish now clutching tickets to distant lands. “There are no jobs. We have to go.” Maybe. But I was talking to a fellow immigrant from London, and she said, “Life is too short to spend all of your time in one place.”
With this in mind, we made a list of places that we wanted to go, which was really pretty vague. I had nothing more concrete in my head than that I absolutely didn’t want to be a Paddy-down-under.
We’re both pursuing careers in the arts, and Toronto is one of the biggest film and arts cities in the world. But whatever your skill, the Irish have garnered themselves a fine reputation here. And with close friends living in Toronto, telling us how amazing the city is, we decided to just … go.
We had hoped to be in Toronto by February as part of the International Experience Canada work-permit scheme, with a notion, bolstered by word-of-mouth, that those applications would open in November 2012. We quickly learned the truth. We couldn’t apply until the Embassy announced that they were receiving applications sometime early in 2013, but we were able to prepare ourselves, applying for Garda Clearance well in advance, and generally being on the ball.
This mentality, while better in the long run, was torturous, as there was nothing we could do except sit tight with the acidity of a big decision burning in our bellies.
With no way of knowing anything (the embassy in London keeping schtum about everything), we joined the ranks of the frustrated internet masses, gawking fearfully over each other’s online shoulders – “When are the permits out? Do you know when they’re out? Is my clearance certificate out of date now? What forms do I fill out?” A note for any of you contemplating a move: The internet is a wonderful tool, but it is also full of people who are panicking just as much as you are.
It didn’t help that this was the first year that the postal application for a one-year permit was replaced by an online application for a two-year permit, so any of our compatriots who had already headed west could do nothing but look bemused on Skype.
We decided to apply directly through the embassy ourselves (on the advice of a friend and previous applicant) rather than handing the responsibility to a third-party company. This was a smart decision: Last year, the permits took five months to ‘sell out’. This year it took 72 hours. I know many people that applied through a third-party company only to have their hopes dashed by seemingly lackadaisical efforts on the parts of these companies.
But applying through the embassy was not painless. The process took the form of interminable waiting punctuated by blind panic. And I mean blind, as the embassy was not clear about what they wanted, but very picky about what they received, bouncing us between badly designed websites with no means to contact anyone for help. But eventually, after weeks of waiting and uploading documents, we received the coveted ‘letter-of-introduction’ necessary for us to receive our permits at the border.
I won’t recount all of the steps to acquiring the letter, as really I can’t - it’s all blurred together. I know that according to the website, I’m still waiting. All that was clear by the end was that it was of the utmost importance to have the necessary paperwork for presentation at the border: two years of insurance, American travel documents (if you are taking a US connecting flight), and proof of funds of at least CA$2,500 (stamped and signed by the bank). Also of concern was the fact that both of us had recently shaved our heads to raise money for the Irish Cancer Society, leaving us both looking nothing like our passports and more like a couple of angry anarchists.
But when we got to Canada, the immigration officer didn’t even glance at our paperwork. He took one look at the sweaty, exhausted, bald and bewildered Irish people standing at his cubicle, made easy talk about our plans (true to form of the awesome Canadians we have met), and gave us the metaphorical thumbs up. Leaving us, above all else, relieved Irish people.
So now that’s all behind us, the real work begins: finding a house. Getting a Canadian bank account, social security number… and a job. Of course, there’s also making friends, beyond the wonderful ones already here waiting for us (and feeding us, and giving us a bed).
Now, it’s likely that the adventure is tinged with the sadness that we may not be able to go home – it’s likely that our adventure will take us away but never take us back. Before things got grim in Ireland, this endeavour was a gap year or two for most people, comfortable in the guarantee that there was safety and prosperity rather than austerity waiting for them at home whenever their wanderlust cooled.
For many of us, it’s not as depressing as all that. Because, despite all the doom and gloom … we have hope. We can take home with us wherever we go, especially now that we have the internet. We, the members of this tiny island dangling at the edge of Europe, have seen and built half the Western world. Because we’ve always had hope. And maybe, like so many say, we are on our knees. But with good friends and loving family, no matter where they are, some of us can still have our heads in the clouds.

Watch out for Mike Heneghan’s updates on life and job-seeking in Toronto later in the summer.