As I’ve shared here thoughts from my notebook about life in Vancouver as a Ukrainian newcomer, I’ve enjoyed reading the comments some readers post after the articles. Last week one using the name Anne_Ominous noted:

“Yes, freedom to speak one's mind doesn't really feel like freedom unless basic needs are being met. Economic justice and civil rights need to go together before we can call ourselves a free society.”

These words helped me understand the main problem that many Ukrainians face in Canada. We have received freedom here but cannot fully feel it.

In this, my last dispatch, I’ll try to explain what that tension is like for some Ukrainians I’ve come to know here. And why I am writing this from Italy, where I’ve come to ponder whether my future lies in Canada after all.

‘Per spinas ad astra’

During my two years in Vancouver I have talked to many immigrants, not only Ukrainians. Most of them say their lives felt more varied and fulfilling in their home countries. Here their existences have become compressed to mainly working and sleeping between jobs.

Struggling to meet the high cost of living in Vancouver, especially rent, has caused many I’ve met to be physically and mentally exhausted.

When I told an immigrant friend recently that I was planning to live in Italy for a bit and travel around Europe for a few weeks before coming back to Vancouver, he told me he was jealous of my freedom. He explained that he moved to Canada three years ago and recently bought a townhouse in Surrey. Now he plans to work for the next 25 years in two jobs to pay the $4,000-per-month mortgage.

A Ukrainian guy who lived in Canada for three years before deciding to move to Bulgaria draws a lot of readers for his posts on Instagram. His main topic is how hard it was to live in Calgary. He worked two jobs and spent all his earnings buying groceries and renting an apartment in a basement. He could not get used to it and moved with his family to Europe where the cost of living is cheaper.

The Ukrainians who comment on his posts are divided about equally in their opinions. One group criticizes the author for disgracing Ukrainians in front of Canadians, accusing him of laziness and ingratitude. The second group agrees with his view that Canada is not a good country of choice for Ukrainians.

This split in views matches my own conversations with fellow Ukrainians over the past 2 1/2 years I’ve lived in British Columbia. I found it interesting how some of their views changed over time.

Inessa moved to Vancouver from Ukraine in the spring of 2023. Two years ago, she said she had been fooled by her first impressions of Canada.

“Friendly people, life should be comfortable. But then it starts. You can’t get used to the local climate, then these friendly people who always want to help, but in fact there is no result, organizations that do not actually help, but only take up time with their Zoom meetings.

“About work, it’s a nightmare. There is a lot of work, but it is impossible to get a job there because you need to have a ‘perfect’ resumé, a portfolio of work from your previous place of work in Canada and a lot of luck. There is still hope for the best, but: I need to pay rent, I need to buy food, and there is no work yet.”

When I caught up with Inessa recently, she told me she has decided to stay in Canada. It hadn’t been easy, but she was able to find a permanent job and still lives in Vancouver.

Julia moved to British Columbia from Kharkiv, Ukraine. She expected to live in Vancouver, but that changed.

“I found a job that I was looking for in my specialization for a long time. But I had to relocate from Metro Vancouver to Victoria. We had a medium-sized dog. When we started looking in Victoria for housing, it turned out that there were almost no options with a dog. Finally, we rented an apartment in a house but it costs crazy money. All you earn, you give for rent. This is British Columbia...”

And yet Julia enjoys living on Vancouver Island and has no plans to move. She’s now settled in.

Elena lives in Vancouver. She moved from Odesa, Ukraine, where she worked as a journalist, more than two years ago. She told me that in Ukraine she wrote educational, entertainment and marketing items for newspapers, magazines and websites.

“I am very interested in continuing to do this work here. I understand that I do not consider journalism as the main way to earn money here. I just would like not to lose the skill. And I would like to improve my English,” Elena shared with me two years ago. She is still looking for a permanent job.

“I am still in British Columbia,” she told me recently, “trying to survive, although it is difficult. I looked for a job not only as a journalist, but also as a hostess, a waitress, a dishwasher, any unskilled work — I was refused everywhere.”

Olena moved to Vancouver from Kremenchuk, Ukraine.

“We live in Vancouver for two years and three months. I can say that we have adapted. We like to be here. We have been working since the first day in Vancouver, starting with Uber delivery to get money daily. Then we found a permanent job. Well, this path cannot be told in a few words.”

“Per spinas ad astra” she writes, quoting the Latin phrase for “through thorns to the stars.”

“Of course, we are missing Europe, but the choice has been made. We are planning to stay here and hope to get permanent resident status in Canada.”

Gaining permanent resident status for Ukrainian newcomers, as I explained in a previous dispatch, is not a sure thing. We have been granted a temporary visa and a work permit for several years. This makes us completely dependent on the political situation in Canada. No one knows how immigration policy towards Ukrainians may change after the federal election is decided on April 28.

The Trump administration’s position on Ukraine is causing us to lose hope for a quick ending of the conflict. Most Ukrainians here expect the dangerous conditions back home will most likely be frozen for many years and may worsen at any moment. But what happens if we suddenly become illegal immigrants here in Canada?

This and other questions run through my mind as I write this on the terrace of an apartment with a stunning view of Lake Como in the lovely town of Bellagio in northern Italy. During the day there are many tourists, and in the evenings, after the last ferry has sailed, I wander the deserted medieval streets, lost in my thoughts.

How has my relationship to Canada changed? Do I want to stay in Vancouver permanently? Do I still feel freedom there?

In order to see some things clearly, you need to look at them from afar.

In Europe, a part of the world that has seen centuries of war and conflict, I come to feel that many Canadians don’t understand how fragile their freedom is and how important it is to protect it. Europeans are all too aware that if a leader in a large neighbouring country begins talking about taking over your nation, it might not be long before foreign troops are marching through your city. What seems ridiculous and unbelievable can become reality at any moment. Believe me, I saw it all in Crimea.

In reacquainting myself with the European lifestyle, I find it refreshingly familiar. Soaking up the culture, I realize this is part of me. I need connection to antiquity and the Renaissance, the museums, ancient ruins, medieval castles, Caravaggio paintings and Bernini statues.

And so I expect to visit Europe from time to time throughout my life.

But the longer I am away from Vancouver, the more I look forward to coming back to the city that is gradually becoming my new home. I appreciate British Columbia’s magnificent nature, clean air, mild climate — and people. Unlike some of the other Ukrainians I’ve spoken to, I find Canadians friendly and responsive. And forward-looking. As I look out at Lake Como, I think of my strolls around Vancouver’s seawall, where I see a certain statue of a famous runner who each time seems to be telling me: Keep going!

A future imagined

As I’ve told you in previous articles, I have found employment in Vancouver’s sanitation department and am optimistic I can figure out how to pay the bills. But only if I am granted the right to live and work in Canada indefinitely. That is the big question looming for me and so many other Ukrainians. I want to be in Canada, but does Canada want the same for me?

I will test that question by applying for permanent residency. I understand that my chances to become a permanent resident of Canada through economic immigration to Canada are low because, while I have higher degrees and management experience, my street cleaning work is not a specialized ability that the government considers in demand. In B.C. the kinds of entry-level skills favoured for permanent residency applicants are hospitality, construction or health care.

I will be applying for permanent residency through a different route — on humanitarian and compassionate grounds. It is a long and difficult path. The processing takes about 22 months, and just over half of those who apply are accepted.

I’ve learned that most often Ukrainians are denied permanent residency on humanitarian and compassionate conditions. This is why I’ve hesitated to follow this path. Like many Ukrainian newcomers, I’ve instead waited for the Canadian government to perhaps create a special program for Ukrainians to obtain permanent residency.

Now, however, I have been motivated to apply by a note a Tyee reader sent to Hedy Fry, the member of Parliament representing Vancouver Centre. The kind reader of my series on The Tyee, who shared their note with a Tyee editor, said: “Yuriy is exactly who Canada needs to help us build a strong future. Please see that his visa is renewed and he’s put on a path to citizenship should he choose to become a full Canadian citizen. We can hope!”

Hope is a powerful thing. But whether I get permanent residency or not will depend on how strong my application will be. I hope the circumstances of my move to Canada and my efforts to adapt and establish life here in Vancouver will help to persuade the immigration officer to approve my application.

If so, I will seek citizenship. I would not want to live in Canada without eventually gaining the right to vote. My experiences in Ukraine tell me that true freedom includes the opportunity to participate fully in political society.

Some days I allow myself to channel hope into a dream. It goes like this: In a few years I celebrate becoming a permanent resident of Canada. A few years later I achieve citizenship. I draw on all I’ve learned as a newcomer who by good fortune and persistence managed to make a life here — and I pour all of this into a career that involves me making positive political change in my adopted country.

I join with my fellow Canadians in making a strong future together. Freedom makes our possibilities limitless!

This series is supported by funding from the Hummingbird Foundation.

Read the entire series.