Edwina, who comes from the southern Philippine city of Davao, is a plain-looking, down-to-earth 38-year-old woman. Four years ago she left the Philippines to marry a middle-aged Quebec man whom she met through a pen-pal service.

"When he asked me to marry him, I made a very quick decision. I said yes," she said.

Now she has landed immigrant status, and lives a few miles outside of a small town an hour west of Montreal with her husband--a 56-year-old unemployed lumberjack. She says she has no regrets, but sometimes she seems to contradict herself. "It's not as easy as you think. I don't advise women to think of this as a way out. This is not the way," she said. "But this was my way, my choice. Every time when you come to a wall, there is always a way over that wall. Or there is a door through. I found my door through."

At 34, Edwina had reached an impasse: unemployed, poor and unmarried, she needed an escape from a life that was going nowhere. "In the Philippines, even if you are a graduate it is tough to find work. You must always get more certification. Even working as a teacher or other professional is not enough to live on if you have six dependents," she said.

Edwina came from a poor family of eight boys and five girls. Her father did not have a trade, having quit his government job long ago, so he supported the family as a small merchant in the local market. They lived in a small wooden house in the Bankerohan district of Davao, a few blocks from the public market where their family had a stall. It was a densely populated and somewhat dilapidated area-- the kind of place where neighbours can pass things to each other through their front windows. She and her siblings always had enough to eat, but there was never any money.

Edwina wanted an education, so she went to school after working at the market. Her schedule for work and classes was 3:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m., plus studying at home. "Life was always a struggle--always a struggle!" she said. Despite the difficulties, she kept at her studies.

But in 1981, her father died. And in 1984, her mother got sick. Before he died, her father had made her the leader of the family, so she had to look after everybody. "And there were economic problems," she said, "the price of everything kept going up."

She eventually got her degree, but getting stable work was very difficult. She struggled through low-paying jobs, and was too busy to get married, she says, until eventually she had had enough. So she joined an international pen-pal club she had heard of from a friend. For a fee, her name and address were provided to wife-hunting men in rich countries like Canada, Germany and the U.S., who would respond to ads in the newspaper.

Escape

"I signed up, and I got so many letters--13 from Quebec, and two from Spain," she said. One of them was from Jacques (not his real name)--now her husband. The two wrote each other for over a year. "He was confused about where I came from at first, he thought I was from Malaysia. And at first he wrote to me in French! So I said to myself 'What's this?' and I wrote back telling him: 'Write in English!'" she said.

"He sent me back a very thick letter, telling me all about himself--his life, his personality. He had been alone for a very long time. And in his letter there were two words he used which I particularly noticed--'respect' and 'discipline.' I share those values very much. He also asked me how to say 'I love you!' in Tagalog," she said. "I wrote him back saying, it's 'Mahal na mahal kita!'

"Then he asked me to come visit him in Quebec. He wanted me to see where I might end up living so I would know if I would like it," she said. "But Philippine women who are courting are not allowed to go first to the man's house. So I told him, 'If you want to see me, you have to come here.'

"So he did! A month later he flew in from Canada. He arrived on a Tuesday, and proposed the next day. And I said yes right away."

And so, for the last four years she has lived in the small community of Boileau, north of the Ottawa river.

The people in the community are very nice to her, she says. She's the only Filipino, but there's no racism. "I spoke to them first, and they spoke back. Now they all like me," Edwina said. She goes to the local church.

"There are three types of people in the area: the old people, the rich people and the welfare people. That last group includes us," she said. But the neighbours help out the carless couple, giving them rides into town. Their small house is 200 feet from the nearest road. It's a very quiet area. "One or two cars passing by the house every eight hours is already a lot of traffic. Maybe five to ten cars go by on a Friday, the busiest day," she said. They have a big yard. "With so many trees!" she said, naming them, "Balsam fir, tamarack, white pine, spruce, hemlock."

What "Jacques" said about himself in the letters was true, she said. "I found an okay man" said Edwina, "life is beautiful." She says that she is not totally happy with her new life, but adds, "I have no regrets. It was my choice." :

-- Images from www.heart-of-asia.com