Anzhela Kompaniiets and her partner, Anton Zarutskyi, were temporarily working in the Czech Republic and saving money for further travels when their home country of Ukraine was subjected to a full-scale invasion by its larger neighbour in February.
Their status was complicated because, since they were already abroad when the war began, recognition of their refugee status was complicated.
While searching internet sites, including one for Canadians seeking to help Ukrainians, Kompaniiets and Zarutskyi discovered a network of folks who ultimately helped the pair make their way to Squamish.
Their hosts provided a great deal of the necessities they needed. But they had arrived in May with little other than winter clothes, so a Facebook post was put out asking for some more appropriate garb. Not only did Kompaniiets receive seasonally appropriate clothing, but women also gave her earrings, cosmetics and "some girl stuff" that really helped. Local guys collected new outfits for Zarutskyi.
"It was very sweet," Kompaniiets said. Others in the community provided gift cards to grocery stores, an acupuncturist provided free services and a physical therapist worked on Kompaniiets' leg and shoulder, which she had injured before coming to Canada.
Employment was a major challenge. Kompaniiets sent out many resumes, but got no callbacks. One of her new local friends walked her around town and, together, they quickly obtained a sales position for her at a lingerie shop.
The couple are settling in, though fears for the future, including their families left back in Ukraine, is a constant worry. But they are grateful for the community of support that has enveloped them.
They don't know what the future holds. They have three-year work permits, but they are not making any long-term plans.
"Everything depends on what's going on in my country," Kompaniiets said. "It's not going well there for now, but we'll see."
ߣÄÌÉçÇøhas seen a great number of new arrivals in recent years — most from locations less exotic than Ukraine, like Kitsilano or Toronto. But, no matter the place of origin or the unique experiences of the newcomers, there are individuals and groups in town making it their business to welcome them.
seeks to be a bridge between the existing community and immigrants and newcomers, and to support them as they transition to a new home, by providing access to services and resources, and serving as a bridge connecting them to the community.
ߣÄÌÉçÇøNewcomer Services, a partner organization to the ߣÄÌÉçÇøWelcome Centre, provides confidential services in a range of languages on topics including immigration, citizenship, applying for or extending work permits, employment, housing and more.
The two organizations provide a hub for accessing almost anything new arrivals might need. If they can't help, they will direct people to those who can. But they also stress that, while services are aimed at new Canadians and new Squamishers, most programs are open to all. For example, a recent program that filled to capacity was for digital newbies.
"One of the programs that we have is the digital divide project, offering free computer classes for beginners," said Tanager, who is co-ordinator of the Welcome Centre.
(She only has one name.)
"This is really for beginners. It's for people who have either never had their own internet-enabled device before or who maybe have access to one but don't have the skills to use it," she said.
Tanager herself is a relative newcomer to Squamish, originally from southern Oregon but was drawn here as a rock climber.
"Highway 99 runs through my hometown," she said, joking that, although in a different country, she is still on the same street.
The Welcome Centre has a used bookstore and a computer lab that is open for all to print, scan or copy. Free public wi-fi is available for everyone, including those just passing through town who may not have Canadian digital connections.
While her job is to make ߣÄÌÉçÇøas welcoming as possible, Tanager admits there is work to be done – including systemic challenges like the cost of living.
"It's hard to live here, financially," she said.
For "those of us who like our sun," she adds, winters can be tough. Then there is something she has noticed about the social scene.
"It's very easy to form friendships here based on common activities," she said. "But it is much harder to find friendships here based on values that are shared. I think it is lovely to go out and do things with other people, but that's not the only type of connection that I value. I think ߣÄÌÉçÇøis maybe a little lacking on the social and political engagement."
For all the services the centre provides, Tanager notes that the space itself creates opportunity for building community.
"The ߣÄÌÉçÇøWelcome Center, just by being an open space, can serve as a hub for people to connect with other people … and not just for newcomers," she said.
With Pride
Another important group that is making ߣÄÌÉçÇøwelcoming and inclusive is. Formally constituted only three years ago, the group is a mainstay in planting the flag of diversity in town.
Planting the flag is more than a metaphor. One of the celebrations the group does annually is a Progress Pride flag-raising at Municipal Hall in September. Other activities take place throughout the year.
While 2SLGBTQIA+ groups in many communities throw all or most of their resources into a big Pride parade or festival, Pride ߣÄÌÉçÇøis taking a somewhat different approach, according to Britt Martell, who is secretary and acting vice president of the group.
Partly because ߣÄÌÉçÇøis just a short drive from Vancouver, which hosts one of the world's largest and most boisterous Pride parades and festivals over the B.C. Day weekend each year, organizers here don't try to compete. There are other factors as well.
"ߣÄÌÉçÇøisn't quite where it needs to be for a big parade like that to be safe for everybody who participates," said Martell.
Rather than focus on one big blowout celebration, Martell said, the group decided to look at "what other work is needed in ߣÄÌÉçÇøand how can we support the growth that we need to see in our community."
Challenges remain. The group has to respond to hateful comments on their own social media platforms and unfortunate incidents are not unknown in town, Martell said.
"I think that ߣÄÌÉçÇøhas come a long way," said Martell. "We're not necessarily in a bad place."
Making it a better place, though, is the aim of a raft of initiatives the group offers, from a recent drag workshop to monthly "Pride Socials." An evolving list of resources is on the website, online training and resources are being developed, and the group's merchandise helps increase visibility.
Pride ߣÄÌÉçÇøis trying to make the community safer and more welcoming for everybody, said Martell. "Because, when people are their full selves, the world is just a better place because you are using less energy to try to fit into something and you're instead using your energy to be the best version of yourself."
Editor's note: This story is from the winter 2022 edition of Discover ߣÄÌÉçÇømagazine.