Canada is a country full of immigrants. From the folks who crossed the Bering Strait way back when to the loads of Europeans who hopped on boats and took the perilous journey to the east coast to the Chinese, Japanese, Indians and so forth that took boats and what not to get to the west coast, Canada is a country built on immigration. I am one such immigrant. And I am a very proud one at that. I can happily say that I am Canadian and not worry one bit about whether someone would have a hard time (at least in Canada) believing that to be the case in spite of the colour of my skin, the lack of knowledge as far as things like touchdowns or Kardashians go... and in spite of any accent I may have. That is what makes Canada so unique, so beautiful. We welcome all sorts of people. Rich ones, poor ones, light ones, dark ones... it runs the gamut. We even welcome war criminals and refugees. Mind you, if we catch you (as a war criminal), we are sticking you in prison. And so we come to Burnaby. ...
I use this as a place to let loose on whatever bugs me, usually at an hour way past my bed time. I *attempt* to keep track of where I am in the world right now and even try to put up pictures. You be the judge.