A British Coffee Time

I met last year a lovely and delightful lady from England. She was responsible for finance training that my old manager asked me to follow to be able to commit funds and pay invoices. Thanks to that lady, thanks to that software my passion for finance started. I was always scared to disturb her, in fact, I spent more of my time at finance department than in my own office.  She keeps her strong British accent as a cultural resistance, her accent cuts words like a knife. Listening to her is like go back 15 yearsgo  when I was learning English at the British Institute, it’s like listening the BBC cassettes with all lessons and learning cultural background from UK.

When I got the position at the Tribunal I sent her an email to meet for a coffee. She doesn’t drink tea so often as the British estereotype says. She loves chocolates and his addiction of good caffeine likes me a lot. We got a spot called Café Délice. The first coffee meeting we had she talked to me about her life. She came to Canada in 1997, at that time she had a sister here. She lived in Alberta, Vancouver to finally settle down in Ottawa. She comes from Fordinbridge, South England. She had a relationship with somebody there and had a daughter named Verity. Now she has another man in his life and she is happy with him. Varety has a boy, a little black kid name Drake and I went to his birthday party.

I remember the day I gave her chocolates when I left Correctional Services. I told her that day thanks to her I discovered my real vocation: finance…she was happily surprised. Everybody loves her, I do too.

When I went to Drake’s party I went to her beautiful place, full of people and love. I met her husband, relatives, old colleagues but over all, I realized that kid is the luckiest kid in the wolrd, everybody takes care of him, it’s surrounded by love and when I left I felt miserable. Love is so important in life….so healthy when is given with kindness and discipline…not like me. I wish some day have a family. Having parties at home, inviting people, caressing my wife and my future kids….I dream of happiness because I deserved it.

She was the only person who dared to ask me personal questions about my family, the reasons I came to Canada etc. I even dared to tell her I was gay and I explained her about the problems I had with my ex bitch, with my mom, who is the main reason I cannot go back to Peru. When I told her my mom gave me her back as response to my homosexuality she put her arm around my shoulder and she said “I’m so sorry” and she meant it….she was so open minded…I felt glad.

Definitely Ottawa is the best to live …as a human, as a professional and as a lesbian.

 

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