I have always known I would be an immigrant. As a child I read books about far-away countries and dreamt of living there. I was fascinated with the stories of the wild west, the fights of the cowboys with the Indians, and the great adventures of taming the wilderness. The land across the ocean looked so appealing and exciting.
More than that I did not like a lot of things about my country. We were experiencing bad economic times. There was a sense of desperation among the young people that life would not get better; that we were destined to live in a broken economic system and struggle to survive till the rest of our lives. I felt I couldn't change the big picture but I was determined to change my own economic situation.The only way for me to do that was to get out of the country.
There were also many things in the social life of my country that irritated me. Our country had existed for hundreds of years and we were proud of that, yet we were stuck in a worldview that was as old as our history, with traditional gender roles of men and women that were killing my pioneer spirit. I wanted to go to a place where I could be free to be myself without feeling the judgemental eyes of society.
All of this to say that I was well motivated to begin my immigrant life as soon as an opportunity presented itself. I was emotionally and mentally ready to leave my country and immigrate somewhere west-Western Europe, Canada, the U.S.A, or even Australia. I thought I was well prepared. I have read a lot of books about life there, I have seen movies, I even knew English quite decently.
In my mind, life there-in the new country was like life home only better, with nicer cars and better street and more stuff. It was also a place where life was supposed to be easier. Oh...how wrong and unprepared I was and I didn't even know it.