CHAPTER 2: The First Step in the Snow
Waking up at five o'clock in the morning in Edmonton is never easy. Outside the window, darkness still blankets the surroundings, and the entire city seems to be fast asleep under a heavy sheet of snow. But for someone like me, carrying a dream all the way from Bataan, there is absolutely no room for laziness.
"Bro, wear this thermal underwear underneath your pants," Kiko ordered while hurriedly mixing instant coffee in the kitchen. He tossed a pair of thick leggings toward me. "And don't you dare forget your gloves and beanie. It's brutal out there today—minus twenty-eight with the windchill. It’s like stepping inside a walk-in freezer."
I followed every single piece of Kiko’s advice. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I could barely recognize the person staring back. Wrapped in three layers of clothing, a massive winter jacket, and a fully covered face, I looked less like a barista and more like an astronaut ready for a moon mission. But in reality, I was just heading out for my very first job orientation.
The moment we stepped outside the house, my muscles shivered even harder. Every breath I exhaled turned into a thick cloud of smoke. We piled into Kiko's old car, but before we could even leave, we had to scrape off the thick layer of ice accumulated on the windshield using a plastic scraper.
"This is what life is like here, bro. Before you even drive, you have to shovel snow and scrape the windshield," Kiko said with a laugh as he navigated the slippery, white roads of Edmonton. "But don't worry, you’ll get used to it."
After about twenty minutes, we pulled up in front of a popular local coffee shop. The mere scent of freshly ground coffee beans and warm pastries wafting from the door instantly began to calm my racing heart.
"Good morning, you must be Aiden!" A cheerful voice welcomed me. It was Sarah, the store manager—a Canadian woman with a beautiful smile, holding a clipboard. "Welcome to the team. Let's get you started with your orientation."
I turned to Kiko, who gave me a solid thumbs-up before heading out to his own job. "You can do this, bro. I’ll pick you up this afternoon," he whispered.
The first three hours of my orientation were an absolute blur of information. Sarah taught me how to use the punch card, the strict hygiene policies, and how to read the digital screen for customer orders. Even though I struggled a bit with their fast English accent, I forced myself to understand every single word, nodding continuously and scribbling notes in my tiny notebook.
"You're doing great, Aiden. Very attentive," Sarah praised as she showed me how to organize the cups beside the espresso machine. "Next week, your training will focus on the point-of-sale system and cash handling."
When I heard the words cash handling, my chest tightened. I glanced over at the cash register, watching the drawer pop open with the crisp sound of dollar bills and clinking coins.
Suddenly, my mind drifted away, traveling back to my chaotic, rushed departure from the Philippines.
I remembered those frantic weeks, running around Manila like a whirlwind because I only had a one-month deadline to complete all my requirements. We were deeply struggling with money back then. I could still clearly picture my father, Noel, staring blankly into his worn-out wallet, meticulously counting every single remaining coin just to make sure we had enough bus fare to reach the government agencies. Meanwhile, I stood beside him, completely terrified that our documents wouldn't be enough to get my visa approved.
My departure had been so incredibly fast, almost pushed by a sudden twist of fate. But looking at the register now, I realized that every single dollar I would handle next week carried the weight of my family’s sacrifices and debts back in Bataan—debts I was determined to pay off.
When lunch break arrived, Sarah kindly handed me a warm cup of hot chocolate and a fresh donut. I took a seat in a quiet corner of the breakroom, right by the window where I could watch the cars driving through the heavy snow.
I pulled out my phone and immediately checked the current currency exchange rate online.
1 Canadian Dollar \= 41 Pesos.
I quickly calculated the math in my head. If I worked eight hours a day at a minimum wage of over fifteen dollars an hour... in just a single day, I would earn an amount almost equal to my father’s entire weekly salary from construction work back home.
My eyes suddenly welled up with tears—not from the freezing Canadian cold, but from a tidal wave of mixed emotions. Every dollar I would earn in this place meant actual cement for our roof, new medication for my dad, and a real chance to finally bring my mother home from Hong Kong for good.
"For the buckets," I whispered softly to myself, tightly gripping the warm cup in my hands. "Just a little more sacrifice, Mom, Dad. You won't have to watch it rain inside our own living room ever again."
After the orientation finished, I enthusiastically thanked Sarah. Right on cue, Kiko’s car horn honked from the driveway outside. The moment I hopped into the passenger seat, my friend immediately bombarded me with questions.
"So, how was the first day for my top writer and barista?" Kiko teased.
"The manager is incredibly nice, bro. She speaks a bit fast, but I understood everything," I replied with a wide, genuine smile. "Thank you so much, bro. I truly feel like this is the beginning of a massive change for my family."
"I told you, just have faith," he said, warmly patting my shoulder. "Come on, let's celebrate. We'll stop by the grocery store first. I'm going to cook sinigang to fight off this freezing cold!"
As the car moved through the towering buildings and the snow-white streets of Canada, I gradually began to feel that every single snowflake falling from the sky was no longer an enemy—but a silent witness to the official start of my brand-new chapter.
**
"Every single dollar earned in this frozen land carries the weight of a leaking roof and a family's sacrifice back home."
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2026-08-04
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