The Scene and Herd

Six years ago I visited Cluj, Romania with a group of friends. Our first evening there we were shown around the city by a student that we met at the seminary where we were to spend the night. His name was Lauri. He was a skinny kid who wore a cell phone around his neck like jewelry, shy, friendly and well spoken. While we were wandering around Unirii Square in the centre of the city, an older gentleman recognized us as foreigners and came over to make conversation, introduced himself as Otto. He was a big, dignified man, Romanian by birth but smuggled out of the country while still a child and raised in Toronto. In middle age, he’d reacquainted himself with the motherland and visited frequently. Otto initially paid Lauri no heed, but at some point in the conversation, turned to him. “Young man,” he said, “you look as though you come from a poor country.” Lauri appeared humiliated off the bat, but his face changed quickly into an expression of annoyance. “I do,” he said, and the two of them stared at each other, tensely.

I think often of Otto and Lauri, although I can still only speculate as to why I’ve always considered their exchange so significant. I recall Unirii Square whenever I read about the state of Canada’s immigration and refugee system, like this new study that concludes (somewhat obviously) that the economic well being of newcomers continues to deteriorate. When I read about Abdelrazik, Suaad Hagi Mohamud, and the Mexican visa debacle among others, I can still hear Otto’s voice in my head. “You look like you are from a poor country.” And I can still see our friend Lauri, pissed off in his cell phone necklace.