It took three years for our application for Canadian immigration to get approved. Within a few months after coming to this land, we realized that this relocation decision turned out not as good as we had pictured. The main problem was for Jun to find a job. Although Jun had tried very hard sending out his resumes to all sorts of employers -- being an engineering teacher, he was well justified to claim knowing quite a bit of everything --- the randomness in his moves often reminded me of a desperate hunter shooting everywhere in the hope of hitting a bird, but unfortunately without aiming.
Our bank account was quickly seeing its bottom, and Jun got more and more frustrated day after day. He became grumpier and more easily irritated, although I could see that he was trying his best not to look upset and not to have his frustration infecting our harmony. Feeling the guilt of deciding on this move, I was trying to help him in my capacity, which was merely limited to searching for job advertisements and preparing resumes and supporting documents.
Not even getting a notice of interview, we gradually came to realize that the last hope of finding a job went faded. Although both of us saw this, neither of us was willing to put it in words, as if when spoken out, the ray of hope would vanish, leaving us engulfed in a complete darkness.
