They have been here for two months and are not showing any signs of leaving. Now don’t get me wrong. I love Welsh people. And I love families. But I also love my basement… which, by the way, is not really set up to accommodate a Welsh family (and their dog). It is set up as a bar.

As a Realtor, my job sometimes involves helping new immigrants from the UK. This family was referred to me a few years ago, and at that time, in their planning stages of immigration, they were researching the possibility of buying a property when they moved here. In 2010, I took them out looking at homes, and they were excited about their pending move. Fast forward three years, and their pending move became an actual one. Their plans had changed, though, and now they had decided to rent a house rather than buy. I was still helping them, but they weren’t sure which area they wanted to live in, and so I offered them my basement while they made some decisions. I was a little embarrassed about offering them a two bedroom bar to rent, but it seemed to be a good, temporary compromise, and they were grateful.

Some of us have easy transitions when we immigrate. We don’t realise it at the time, and maybe don’t always appreciate it. By we, of course, I mean me. I have moaned and complained my way through ten years of various trivial “problems”, but compared to the Welsh family, I now realise, I have had it easy. These people have had a run of pure bad luck which would be enough to make anyone question if they are doing the right thing.

They came to BC on a working visa, which means the husband was sponsored by a company and could only work for that particular company whilst living here. After just two weeks, that company told him they had no more work. Suddenly, their whole move here was in question. If the husband could not work, they could not survive. Their search for a more permanent home was put on hold while he searched for another job. The only way to find work was to persuade a company to sponsor him. Not easy. He started applying for jobs all over Canada. Hundreds of applications later, he was thankfully offered another local job. The company agreed to sponsor him, and things started to look up. The family breathed a sigh of relief and found a townhouse to rent. They signed a lease agreement, paid half a month’s rent, plus damage deposit for the dog (a total of $1200), and finally started to feel that they could settle into their new life in Canada.

A week before they were due to move to the townhouse, and two days after paying the deposit, the husband was laid off again. This was enough to test the hardiest new immigrant. How could they take on a tenancy knowing that they may not be able to pay their rent next month? They went to the landlord, told him the situation, and said that regretfully they were unable to take the townhouse after all. The landlord refused to return their rent. I can – maybe – understand that the landlord has his mortgage to pay, and – maybe – was prevented (for two days) from renting to an alternative renter, and that – maybe – he is entitled to keep the half a month’s rent. What I really cannot understand is how this landlord can justifiably keep the $400 damage deposit for the dog. If the dog never moved in, what exactly is the deposit for? Even if the landlord is legally justified in keeping this money (and I am waiting to hear from the Residential Tenancy Branch about that), doesn’t he have a conscience, or some kind of empathy for these people?

So now the Welsh family are $1200 down, with no job, no sign of another job, and nowhere to live – apart from my basement. I am sure one day they will look back on this time and laugh. Actually, I’m not sure about that at all. Immigration is tough, and sometimes, it’s just not funny.