LAND OF THE FREE

GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN

How to Emigrate to Canada

i used to think Vancouver had a skunk infestation problem. Being new
to the city, I couldn't understand why every back alley and open
window offered up dank puffs of smoke much like that green cloud that
followed Pepe Le Pew around in Looney Tunes cartoons. I became
obsessed with the idea that I had unknowingly moved to a town that
smelled like N-bulymercaptan until, finally, a friend said, "Dude,
it's the B.C. bud. Shut up already."

Formidable pot and its unmitigated use are just some of the perks that
come with life in Vancouver, and in Canada at large. Add in the
same-sex marriage laws, and it's enough to make you throw in your
red-white-and-blue star-spangled towel. But wanting to move to Canada
to blow some trees and marry your Butch Cassidy won't stick with
Immigration, so, as I am Canadian (nice, helpful, and a citizen of a
country that has harboured draft dodgers and fugitives since the days
of the Underground Railroad), here are some pointers on how to begin
life anew in the land of the gay and the chronic.

Canada wants and loves immigrants, especially if they've got the
skills to pay the bills. But that doesn't mean it's easy to become a
Canadian citizen. First off, you have to be a permanent resident for
three years, and then pass a difficult test about Canadian explorers
and French grammar. So, concentrate on getting your permanent work
visa first.

There are four ways to do this. The business immigrant visa is for
entrepreneurs ready to invest $400,000 in their new Canuck venture. If
you've got a loved one in Canada who'll sponsor and support you, go
for the family class visa. A new class of visa, provincial nominee,
encourages applicants willing to live nowhere near the standard
immigrant destinations of Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver.

Finally, the skilled work visa is the most common, especially if
you've got a university education and at least one year of relevant
work experience. Canada needs skilled workers in every occupation
under the sun: telecommunications managers, pilots, journalists,
coaches, data-entry clerks. You could check the National Occupation
website (www.canlaw.com/immigration/noc.htm) for a list of allowable
professions, but I guarantee your job is on it: There's not a single
restricted occupation listed at this time.

If you are unsure which category is best for you, a plethora of free
immigration assessments are available at websites like
www.canadavisa.com and www.akcanada.com. Canadian immigration lawyers
like David Cohen (888-947-9445) and Abrams & Krochak (416-482-3387)
are well versed in immy dilly-o and will answer your questions for a
fee (Cohen charges $100 for 30 minutes). Or simply call Citizenship
and Immigration Canada (CIC) at 604-666-2171. Application forms can be
downloaded from the CIC's website (www.cic.gc.ca) or picked up from
any Canadian embassy or consulate, like the one on Sixth Avenue and
Stewart Street in Seattle (immigration line: 443-1777).

So just how long is this going to take? Prepare yourself for at least
a year. Application processing times vary from 22 to 150 days, and the
call for an interview comes in six to 18 months; you'll need to
undergo a medical examination, and then wait for your visa to arrive.
Your permanent resident card won't arrive in Canada until about 30
days after you do. To bide the time during your wait, brush up on
Canadian-centric topics like the queen, especially if you plan to
apply for full-on citizenship in a few years. Did you know that our
dear old Queen Elizabeth II, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the
Faith, introduced a new breed of dog called a "dorgi" when she
crossbred her corgi with her sister's dachshund? Or that she wears
those boxy dresses because she is large-breasted? She's also the 13th
cousin, twice removed, of your very own George Bush Sr. You might be
related.

Gaining temporary residency through work, study, or visitor permits is
much faster--especially if you're a cathode ray tube repairperson, a
cattle or swine herdsperson, a registered nurse, or a long-haul truck
driver. The Canadian government fast-tracks work permits for these
much-in-demand skills.

But having a work permit doesn't necessarily guarantee a smooth ride
at the border. I was in a rock band on tour through North America and
we decided to get work permits so that we wouldn't have to worry about
the border. (On other tours we'd just lied and gotten across fine, but
we didn't want to push our luck.) As soon as we showed the Peace Arch
border guard our papers, he pulled us over, ripped apart our
wood-paneled minivan, and apprehended our merchandise, causing us to
miss our in-store in Seattle. In that instance, having a work permit
sucked. If you are thinking about a temporary stay in Canada, a chance
to just chill and smoke the weed, check out the list of jobs exempt
from the work permit requirement at www.cic.gc.ca/english/work/exempt-1.html.

Or take your chances and cross refugee-style. In 2001 alone, almost
6,000 Americans immigrated to Canada--800 of whom entered at a
Washington-Vancouver border. And those are just the ones Immigration
knows about. See? People do it all the time. But you still need a good
story for the immigration official. Tell them you'd like to learn more
about the metric system. Or that you're coming to see the
Bachman-Turner Overdrive reunion show. Just don't mention pot or
develop your story out loud while waiting in the line-up: Borders are
equipped with radio surveillance systems that listen in on
conversations within a one-kilometer radius. I am not shitting you.

Here are some further tips from a Vancouver friend who goes to
Anacortes once a week to earn money and is such a pro that the border
guards now give her dogs treats on her way through: "Make eye contact.
Act really friendly and unassuming, perhaps a little on the dumb side.
Laugh a lot--like, "Oh, ha ha, hello.' Seeming confused doesn't hurt
either."

The drive from Seattle to Vancouver takes about three hours and offers
a choice of four border crossings: Aldergrove, Abbotsford, Peace Arch,
or the Pacific Highway. Everyone must show a passport or birth
certificate and a driver's license to the border guard. Baptismal
certificates work too. Going by car has its advantages, as it's cheap
and you can bring stuff from home. Items with an air of
permanence--waterbeds, encyclopedia sets, home-sweet-home
plaques--should be left behind if you don't have a visa, so as not to
raise suspicions. You can also travel by plane (airport customs
officials are notoriously lax with questions), by boat (the Coho ferry
travels between Port Angeles and Victoria), or by helicopter (stylish,
though this costs close to $300).

If you don't have a prearranged job upon your arrival, you'll need to
find work as soon as possible, especially since your hard-earned
American cash just isn't going to go as far as it used to. Our
12-sided bronze loonie is healthier than ever; currently the Canadian
dollar equals about 70 American cents, which means you'll be able to
buy the Peace Songs compilation for a measly 12 bucks. The Vancouver
Currency Exchange, on 402 Hornby Street, gives the best rates in town.

A browse through the help-wanted section of the Georgia Straight
unearths plenty of opportunities for brake and exhaust mechanics,
clairvoyants, and Paul or John musicians willing to round out Beatles
tribute bands. One particularly hot business seems to be the she-male
industry. Transgendered? Then Canada's a great place for you. Just
remember, if you're here illegally, the trick is to find a boss who is
willing to pay you under the table. Small-business owners happy to
skip out of paying the hefty government taxes are your best bet.

As for shelter, Canada is a gigantic country with a minuscule
population, so living spaces aren't hard to come by--except in
Vancouver, where current vacancy rates are 1.4 percent. Try to find a
cute Canuck roommate to share a place with, maybe even a lonely or
reckless soul who would consider marrying you at a minute's notice.
This is a handy option to have if you're here illegally and
Immigration is positively ready to boot your ass south, although it
may be expensive. "A friend of a friend's sister offered me a couple
thousand dollars to swap citizenships by marrying," says an American
friend. "But I don't know. I just don't think I want to live here that
badly."