Money in Canada

It turns out I don’t have a lot of value in Canada. I’m here as a “family dependent,” with virtually the same status as my children, valued only because Mars is valued and wouldn’t come without me.

I suppose that means that at least Mars values me a lot — which helps I suppose — but it’s still unsettling to feel like a persona non grata.

Even Mars is here on a temporary work permit, at least for the time being, which means that if he were to do something stupid or become involved in something illegal (even accidentally or innocently), he could be kicked out, no warning, permanently. The same is true in my case, except I’d also be kicked out if he were, though the reverse would not be true.

All this was an esoterical discussion until Saturday when we drove to Edmonton to replace my aging laptop before it croaked. I picked the computer I wanted, chose my plan and add-on services, selected a cover for my iPad. But when I offered them my debit card, it was declined. I figured my new card hadn’t yet been activated yet, so we gave them Mars’ card. It also was declined. Then my debit card from the US was declined.

Apparently there’s a spending limit for debit cards — and it’s much lower than the amount that was in our checking account. I could have purchased three computers with the amount we have in checking here – and considerably more than three with what’s in the US account. But no dice. I could have written a check, but the computer store doesn’t take checks.

What they wanted was a credit card, but I don’t have one. In fact, I have no credit in Canada, none at all, despite my stellar score in the US. Mars has some credit because he has a job and a mortgage in his name, but I got nothing. I’m not even listed on the deed to the house because I didn’t have a social identification number when we bought the house. At some point, we’ll add my name to both the deed and the mortgage, and I can begin building credit again, but it’ll take an attorney and time and money, so it isn’t the highest priority.

The bank suggested I get a secured credit card with a $500 limit. Secured — as in, I put $500 into an escrow account I cannot touch, and they agree to loan me $500. My recent college graduate son, with no credit, can get an unsecured card, but I have to hand over $500 to get a $500 loan. Explain to me again how this even counts as a loan?

And a $500 limit? Really? Even if I put, say, $2,000 in an account, you’ll only “loan” me $500? Does this make any sense?

I’ll figure it out. The bank says I can call them as I’m headed to the computer store, and they’ll raise the limit, and then I’ll call them when I’m leaving, and they’ll put it back where it was. Or I could take that amount out in cash (assuming the computer store takes cash), but that’s a big bundle of bills to carry around. I have to do something — my laptop died for good Monday. I’m typing this on a computer at the library, and I’m limited to one hour.

But it leaves me feeling oddly displaced, like I don’t belong anywhere. If something happened to Mars, for instance, I’d be invited to leave the country immediately. And I’d better have some savings to cover the move because I sure as heck won’t be able to borrow money.

This is not a comfortable feeling, no more comfortable than standing at a pristine counter in a glizty mall store and seeing the word “Declined” come up on the screen over and over again.

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