Toronto Metropolitan University students take advantage of the city’s vast multicultural food community to battle homesickness

By Kyana Alvarez (with contributions from Hssena Arjmand, Olga Bergmans, Sierra Edwards, Abbie North and Vanessa Tiberio)

It is a brisk and gloomy November day, but a warm Brazilian carrot cake (from an even warmer Brazilian food vendor) melts away the cold. Despite being in the middle of downtown Toronto, the sweet treat never fails to teleport Roger Castelo back home to Brazil.

As international university students move away from their countries to pursue education, many must give up what they know as home. For some international students at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU), food has become a crucial outlet for battling homesickness and exploring their culture away from home.

Castelo moved to Toronto in 2021 to study professional communications at TMU. He was drawn to Toronto’s diversity and welcoming atmosphere.

“Toronto was the perfect place because it has a lot of different cultures coming together and I'm[is] very passionate about language… Being here and learning English and French is also a great asset for me,” says Castelo.

Roger Castelo moved from Brazil to Toronto, Canada in 2021, to study at Toronto Metropolitan University (Kyana Alvarez/CanCulture)

Despite living “a dream come true” by studying in Toronto, Castelo says he misses his home, his friends, his family and his culture deeply.

Homesickness is a common and powerful emotion among international students. According to a study from the National Centre for Biotechnology Information, about 94 per cent of students experience homesickness during their undergraduate degree.

“I have a difficult time as an international student. I don't feel like that's recognized enough, having that identity crisis,” says Sofia Villar Saucedo, a third-year RTA School of Media student.

Villar Saucedo identifies herself as a “third-culture kid” because she grew up in Mexico, moved to the U.S. for two years, and then spent a decade in China before coming to Canada to attend TMU.

However, both Castelo and Villa Saucedo have an almost fool-proof method for comforting their homesickness — eating foods from their home countries.

““Food is almost like another language. There is so much power in the dish you eat, and there’s always a story behind it. There’s a heritage, culture and history carried in the dish.””

— Roger Castelo

Because of Toronto’s extensive diversity, international students like Castelo and Villa Saucedo don’t struggle with finding authentic foods from their home countries.

However, not all international students have the means to find comfort in food. There is a growing number of students experiencing food insecurity, and international students are often overlooked, says Fleur Esteron, a TMU sociology professor.

“Food security also includes the cultural side of food and the social aspects of food [along with the financial aspects]…” she says. “International students’ prevalence of food insecurity might be higher [because of the costs of moving here], and because they’re missing that cultural and social side [of food].”

She says It is necessary to increase financial assets for international students to combat food insecurity - including cultural and social aspects.

More than 190,000 people immigrated to Toronto from 2016 to 2021, according to Statistics Canada. Like the countless other immigrants in Toronto, Castelo and Villa Saucedo enjoy finding different foods from their home in the city.

“There's a place close to campus… It’s called Samba, and they sell a lot of Brazilian street foods. So, whenever I’m feeling very homesick or want something that brings me back home, I always go there to try their food,” said Castelo.

Samba is a Brazilian eatery located in the World Food Market and specializes in traditional Brazilian dishes, including popular street foods and a variety of savoury pastries.

The World Food Market is located right across from TMU’s Sheldon Learning Centre and is a convenient food spot for students. It houses over 18 vendors and provides visitors with a wide selection of street food delicacies from different countries.

Vendors like Samba help boost cultural appreciation among international learners as rates for out-of-country students in Toronto are rising.

According to Statistics Canada, international student enrolment rates in colleges and universities grew from seven per cent to 18 per cent from 2010 to 2019.

While Castelo relies on the World Food Market for a taste of home, Villa Saucedo goes to Kensington Market.

“I found a place called Juicy Dumpling… They have the best soup dumplings in the city. It really resonated with me because there is a place back home [in China] that serves the best dumplings, and they replicated that… I remember finding them and was so excited to go and eat them,” said Villa Saucedo.

Juicy Dumpling is well known for its cheap prices and authentic dumplings that reel in many customers daily.

Kensington Market is one of Toronto’s most recognized spots to find various worldly cuisines, where the options and lineups are endless.

“I think these restaurants are well aware their demographics are here,” said Villa Saucedo, adding that people in Toronto are more open to exploring new cultures and engaging with them.

Alongside cheap and authentic meals, Kensington is a place of comfort for her as she also discovers traditional Mexican snacks and meals that are difficult to find downtown.

“Going to Kensington Market and finding all these Mexican places that provide familiarity and Mexican snacks has been so incredibly refreshing. And I can just go there and not wait until December to see my family, so it's really enjoyable,” said Villa Saucedo.

She also finds the connection between food and one’s culture through school initiatives like the TMU residence dining halls’ “Global Eats Program.” The initiative serves different cuisines from around the world each month.

“I feel that Toronto and TMU are so diverse and everyone you meet has a different background,” said Villa Saucedo. “I feel it’s really enjoyable to share meals with other people who aren't [from] your background, but you’re able to chat and get to know each other over the meal.”

As Castelo, Villa Saucedo and Esteron said, there is a deep connection between one’s cultural heritage, identity and food cravings. Although Toronto is very different from places like Brazil, Mexico, or China, it can fulfill both the academic and cultural needs of international students like Castelo and Villa Saucedo through the power of good and authentic cultural food.

Carolina Marcowicz shines at TIFF once again. Now in her sixth run in the festival, the up-and-coming Brazilian director premieres her second feature film, Toll.

By: Mariana Schuetze

In Carolina Markowicz's latest feature film, Toll ('Pedágio'), audiences take a peak into the life of a toll booth worker in Cubatão, an industrial city near São Paulo, Brazil. Suellen (Maeve Jenkins) raises her son, Tiquinho (Kauan Alvarenga), alone and finds herself in a complicated situation as she tries to deal with the fact that her son is gay.

Both Jenkins and Alvarenga have worked with Markowicz before. Jenkins in her debut feature, Charcoal ('Carvão'), which premiered at TIFF in 2022, and Alvarenga in one of her shorts, The Orphan ('O Órfão') (2018).

The pair playing mother and son give award-worthy performances in Toll, doing justice to the stories of many in similar situations. Their performances assist in Markowicz's brilliant telling of the story of a mother who loves her son so much and yet doesn't understand his experience. In the film, she goes to previously unthinkable lengths to protect him in the best way she can, even if it hurts him.

Toll, at times flirting with the absurd and satirical, brings to the big screen the lived experience of many in conservative countries such as Brazil. At one point in the story, and without giving too much away, Tiquinho is sent to conversation therapy. In those scenes, Toll establishes itself as a dramedy, with moments that will make you laugh at just how absurd it is but at the same time may disturb you to the core.

Markowicz and the entire Toll cast and crew masterfully weave together this beautiful, yet at times, comical story without losing sight of where it's set. Brazil is an incredibly unequal country, and this absurdity is not too far away from reality. CanCulture had the opportunity to interview writer and director Carolina Markowicz and leading star Maeve Jenkins. In the interview, they discuss how the rhetoric of Brazil's last president, Jair Bolsonaro, against the queer community influenced Suellen and Tiquinho's story.

“ I think the film’s message is one of acceptance and tolerance without romanticization. It’s showing who these people are and that they won’t change and that everyone will have to live together and understand each other.”

— Carolina Marcowicz

Our Editor-in-Chief, Mariana Schuetze, is Brazilian and conducted the interview in Brazilian Portuguese and translated it into English for the CanCulture audience. You can read the Portuguese transcription here.

Mariana Schuetze: And how is it going? This is your second time here at TIFF, right?

Maeve Jenkins: Second time at TIFF, yeah. We had our first time here with Charcoal last year. And now with Toll.

Mariana: How cool. I was thrilled to be able to talk to you. It's really cool to see Brazil out there, putting on a show. You may have already answered this several times, but as a Brazilian, I have to ask: what is it like to be here again, bringing Brazil to Toronto and the world once again?

Carolina Marcowicz: Well, I love it here. I love this festival. This festival is incredible; besides being a festival of great importance, it also has an incredible audience. That it is wonderful, that reacts, that accompanies us. So, the Toronto festival, it's amazing here… in every way. Sometimes it's just in a professional sense, there's the importance of the festival's prestige and things like that. But beyond that, also having this [response] from the people who are watching the film here, it is very incredible. Just yesterday, at the premiere, in the Q&A, there were people asking about Charcoal. They had come to see the film last year! So this is very interesting, the force of the Canadian audience here in Toronto.

I'm here for the sixth time, I've already been here a few times. I love it here, the festival has always supported me a lot. Starting with my second short film, which was shown here. I was doing an interview for TIFF just now, and I said that was the first year they opened for International Shorts, in 2014, which was the year my animated short was shown here. After that year, I had two more short films, Long Distance Relationship (2017) and The Orphan (2018), and then Charcoal and Toll. And I was a part of the Filmmakers' Lab in 2015. So, I've been here a few times, and each time has been very incredible.

Mariana: That's amazing! I think that for us Brazilians, this interacting audience makes all the difference. It must be really incredible.

Maeve: I feel like the festival has this audience-building thing too. Many years of the festival, and I imagine that the volunteers and the integration of audiovisual students and young directors are forming a generation of cinephiles. And you feel it in the audience, in those who attend the films, in how they respond to film, how they follow the directors, the actors. There is a passion for cinema that you can feel at the festival. It's really cool.

Mariana: What is it like bringing this specific story here? I feel like a lot of times when we talk about queer stories in cinema, most of what we see is North American. So, for me, it's really very special to see and hear these stories in Brazil and in Portuguese. What was it like for you to tell this story? What do you hope people here, in particular, take away from the film? Is it different from what you hope audiences in Brazil will take away from the film?

Carolina: What I would like people to take away from the film converges everywhere. But [in] Brazil, being a more conservative country, I think it's important for people to see this. Perhaps it portrays a more Brazilian reality. But here, in this case, it is supposed to be a window into that reality. Without wanting to spoil anything, but what happens in the [conversion therapy] program may seem absurd, there is this dramatic part of the film, which is, well, bizarre and at times comical and seems surreal. But it is not. In Brazil, it is not. But here, being a much less conservative country, with politicians who speak much less nonsense than we hear there, it might be more absurd. There are two sides to this, showing what happens there [in Brazil], portraying these people and making them see themselves in this satirical criticism that we see in the film. But I think the film's message is one of acceptance and tolerance without romanticization. It's showing who these people are and that they won't change and that everyone will have to live together and understand each other.

Maeve: I think that this degree of approximation of the absurd is different for Brazil and Canada, considering the reality of the countries. Canada has a more progressive tradition in this sense, right? But at the end of the day, I think prejudice exists to different degrees all over the world, including here. Yesterday, at the end of the film, a couple of Canadian psychoanalysts, who looked to be in their 70s, came over very excited to greet us and said: "I have to say that I found the approach and development of these characters super intelligent and realistic." Look, we're talking about a language that flirts with the absurd but he said, "Super intelligent and realistic." The woman, it was a couple, and they were both psychoanalysts, she said: "This mother and this son are constantly in my office." They were very emotional. It was really incredible talking to them.

What I mean by all of this is that, to different degrees, this conflict exists worldwide. Unfortunately, it is worldwide. But in Brazil, it is evident. I'm very excited to show it in Brazil. Well, we filmed Toll during the Bolsonaro government, a guy who said he would rather have a dead son than a gay son, among various other offences and violence. Even today, in Brazil, this conflict is very present. Right now, last week, they are trying to foot a bill to annul same-sex marriage. So, we are still under attack. The super-conservative government was defeated at the polls, but we still live the echo of that ultra-conversational period. This is very alive. So obviously, this makes me very excited to share this story with the audience. And about expectations, I confess that whenever I make a film, I internalize themes, like we're talking about this, this and this. But many layers, this intuition, will only appear; you can only take ownership of it when you watch it collectively. When you discuss the film. When you debate the film. This only happens when the film is born, when it comes into conflict with the audience. And that's completely out of our control and that fascinates me. There are things, layers, that we will only discover by putting the film out into the world.

“ I think the important thing is that you treat your characters with respect and without exoticizing them. And without placing yourself in a place above, or in short, on the far side. As if you weren’t part of it in that way. It’s not about wanting to show it as if it were a case study. There has to be that care. It’s a question of respect, a question of principle. It’s a question of the film itself.”

— Carolina Marcowicz

Mariana: And in relation to showing this film to different audiences, what care is needed to make a film like this? Did you take a certain amount of care when creating this film and wanting to show it to a foreign audience? As a Brazilian who lives here, I know the idea that people tend to have about Brazil, so I wanted to know if there is any idea behind the image that your film can give of our country when watched abroad.

Carolina: I think we don't want to stereotype or romanticize. There's a rawness to the film that I think is important to show. The important thing is to show things without exoticizing them. Without making people see this as if it were something from afar, as if there was some judgment here. The people are there, they live there. They live in this city, they have this financial situation. Some better, some worse. They figure things out. They live in a totally unequal society, which is Brazil. And you can't pretend that it isn't, and this generates a thousand other forms of violence. So, I think the important thing is that you treat your characters with respect and without exoticizing them. And without placing yourself in a place above, or in short, on the far side. As if you weren't part of it in that way. It's not about wanting to show it as if it were a case study. There has to be that care. It's a question of respect, a question of principle. It's a question of the film itself.

Maeve: Perfect. I agree with every word of what Carol said. And as an actress, what I try, which is always very risky, is to try to have a genuine interest in those people. In the worst and best of them. But having a genuine interest in understanding that and putting yourself in that place.

Mariana: Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me. I don't want to keep you much longer. I was really very happy to have talked to you. I absolutely enjoyed the film, and I'm super excited to watch it again tonight in the audience.

Maeve: We'll be there tonight too! There will be a Q&A after the session!

Mariana: Oh! That's cool, I'm even more excited now. I've already invited my friend [John, one of CanCulture's Managing Editor]. I saw the film last night and told him he had to come with me again today to watch the film.

Caroline: Amazing!

Mariana: Well, thank you very much, and I hope you two have a great day!

Maeve: Thank you and see you later!

Carolina: Thank you!

CanCulture had a great time talking to Carolina Marcowicz and Maeve Jenkins about their experiences at TIFF and the creation of Toll. As a Brazilian, I can't wait for the film to come out in theatres so I can show it to my family there.