The Shoe Project

 

Shoe Story 117: My Colourful Boots 

by Natalia Rodriguez Bussi

Story 108 My Colourful Boots 
by Natalia Rodriguez Bussi


When I first visited Toronto in the summer of 2001, I was mesmerized by the vibrant lifestyle, comfort, and opportunities that Canada offered. I came back in 2005 with a sense of adventure and visitor visa, but with the intention to stay.

Life in those first years was not as exciting as I had imagined. I had to work for many years as a live-in caregiver before applying for my permanent resident status. The immigration process seemed endless. I used to wake up with the unpleasant feeling of not knowing whether I would settle here or have to return home. I wanted to stay but I felt constrained: I could not study, practice my profession in the mental health field or leave the country without a permit. I was in limbo. Still, I had a job and somehow felt comfortable like the shoes I always wear: brown, black or beige, easy to match and durable – and, of course, inconspicuous

When I became a permanent resident, I could visit my family in Uruguay without any immigration hassle. I couldn’t wait to go to the local market, where artisans line up their tables for several blocks and lay out handcrafted sweaters, leather jackets, furniture, and shoes. The air there smells wonderful – a blend of leather, incense, and painted wood.

I was browsing the stalls when I spotted a striking pair of boots. They were made of fine leather, incredibly soft to the touch, with white laces and a delicate die-cut pattern. They looked stylish and comfortable, suitable even for summer.
They were perfect, except for one thing: they were a bright shade of tan, almost . . . yellow.

After some deliberation, I decided to buy the yellow boots and bring them back to Canada. I first wore them on a trip to Niagara on the Lake. I was looking around in antique store when I heard [an older lady] say, “Those are very pretty, dear.”

I wasn’t sure what she was talking about; there were so many pretty things around us.
“Pretty?” I asked.

She nodded. “Your boots. They look nice on you.

It was the first time anyone had complimented me on my footwear. I had to smile.

The next time I wore the boots, I was at a shoe store in the Eaton Centre when a young woman in a fancy dress and heels said to me, “I love your boots.” Again, I smiled.  Those yellow boots really stood out!  Maybe I would try to wear them more often.

A few weeks later, I was waiting in line at the bank, when a cool-looking man with long, dark hair said to me, “Where did you get those boots? They’re so original.”

“My boots? I bought them in Uruguay,” I said proudly.

 “They’re stunning,” he said. “Really well-made. And I should know. I’m a shoemaker.

I left the bank feeling special. I was getting used to receiving compliments.

 Wearing those bright boots broke my personal dress code, forcing me to step out of my comfort zone. Perhaps it was time to be more open, to try new things. After all, now that I was a permanent resident, I had gained the freedom to make choices in Canada. It was the beginning of a bright new phase with less constraint and more opportunity.

I’ve had my boots for a few years now, and I’ve thought about changing the colour more than once. I even took them to the shoe repair to have them dyed dark brown, but at the last minute I changed my mind. I decided to keep them as they are – as colourful as the life I always dreamed of having in Canada.

Who knows?  Maybe one day I’ll choose to dye them bright red.

 

NATALIA RODRIGUEZ BUSSI moved to Canada from Uruguay.  After many years in childcare work, she became a social service worker in Toronto’s Spanish-speaking community.

 

Other Shoe Stories from Session 13, Toronto:

116: Teeny Toes

117: My Colourful Boots

118: Ballerina Shoes for Canada

119: To Abbu

120: My Leopard Shoes

121: Mismatched Shoes

122: My First Prayer

123: Ice Tracks

124: How Comfortable Are They?

125: Happy Campers

126: Submerged

127: Back-up Slippers


Back to Table of Contents, Shoe Project Stories Archive