My first year anniversary with the firm quickly came and as the files of my first few jobs came around to my desk once more, the picture of my role came into sharper focus. Most of these towns are perched along the foothills of the Canadian Rockies and set in ever dramatic changes of seasons so there were always plenty of new views for me to photograph. We lodged in motels and inns and after work, instead of watching TV, I usually went out and explored the surrounding countryside taking my prized camera along to take pictures. Not surprising either that they did not awaken any amount of amorous interest in me although it could not be said that I was not constantly on the look out. No wonder, people assume accountants are boring and Canadians are typically reserved. They were quiet, kept to themselves and showed no curiosity about anything outside of work. They came from all sorts of backgrounds, mostly rural and farming families or urban middle class. I was always teamed up with a student in his final year of articling, somebody who has written the uniform exam and just awaiting the result or someone who has passed the exam and waiting to reach twenty-one for their CA designation. They sent a team of us as the size of the job warranted. Depending on the size of the business, some jobs required overnight stays, some up to two weeks and upwards. We did audits and prepared financial reports for clients all over rural Alberta. My job was made interesting by the travel involved. He offered me my first job in Canada right after that interview, just within days of arrival. He was a partner in the firm and had previously worked with a highly reputed Filipino accountant so I came in the wake of this extra-ordinary Pinoy who left with him an exceptional impression. Over dinner, she encouraged me to apply for work with her employer which I did the following day. It turned out that she worked for a Chartered Accounting firm, the equivalent of our CPA. I looked her up as soon as I got over my jet lag and she invited us three housemates over to her house for dinner that same night.
It turned out as one among the most promising possible contacts that I jotted down in my address book. He also gave me the name, home address and telephone number of a lady friend he knew growing up in the same small barrio. This was the address of the rented house occupied by two of his cousins where he arranged for me to share a furnished room. An immigration officer advised me to take a taxicab from the airport when I inquired and showed the address given to me by my brother-in-law.