An Ocean Apart

by Gillian Chan

  Tuesday, December 5

  I feel like I have turned into an ice girl. I cannot get warm. I wore both my blouses today, one on top of the other. It only helped a little. As I write in you, Diary, I am wrapped in a blanket, with only my hands and face showing. The paper in my shoes is useless. All it did was crinkle and make a noise. It also caused me much trouble.

  Ivor saw the paper poking out and laughed. “Is that what you wear in Chinky China?” he asked. “Or don’t you wear shoes at all?”

  Bess told him to shut up. He turned on her then, laughing about how she had no stockings. He was very mean and pushed her over. One of her shoes came off and he grabbed it and ran around the schoolyard, waving it and yelling at people that Bess Murphy’s shoes had more hole than sole. Nearly everyone laughed. I was surprised because Bess just sat on the ground, her head bent so that her hair hid her face. I had expected her to get up and punch him — that is what she normally would do.

  Ivor danced in front of Bess, dangling her shoe, and singing “Bog Irish! Bog Irish!” I do not know what this means, but I knew it was meant to hurt like a stone thrown at Bess. Others circled round and started the hurtful yelling too.

  Still Bess did not do anything. I could not see her face, but I heard her sob. It made my heart ache so much that I surprised myself. I ran at Ivor, snatched the shoe from him and yelled at him to leave her alone. For just a tiny bit, he was so shocked that he did nothing. Then he started to move toward me, his fist raised.

  I was very lucky because Mr. Hughes came then. He wanted to know what was happening. The crowd disappeared very quickly. Ivor started to say it was a game we were playing.

  “It was not!” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Ivor was teasing Bess. He made her cry.” I put my hand over my mouth to silence myself, but it was too late. Mr. Hughes grabbed Ivor by the arm, dragging him toward the school. He was talking all the time, shouting really, about how he was tired of Ivor’s mean tricks. I knelt down to give Bess her shoe. As I did I saw Ivor turn his head and mouth something at me. I think he said, “Just you wait, May Chin!”

  I am glad I helped Bess. She has always stood up for me, but now I am a little scared.

  Wednesday, December 6

  Nothing happened today. That is a silly thing to write, but I mean that Ivor did nothing to me, except give me mean looks. Mr. Hughes thrashed him yesterday. He also scolded the whole class and told us he is made sick by the way we taunt each other about where we come from. It is mainly the boys. They make gangs and fight: Japanese against Portuguese, Italians against Japanese, Portuguese against Italians, English against … I could go on and on, Diary. There are not enough Chinese boys to form a gang, so we just get picked on by everyone. At first I could not see why Mr. Hughes was saying this to us, but then I remembered what Ivor had called Bess. Ivor is always quick to make fun of people’s families and customs. He is very proud of the fact that he is British. Mr. Hughes said we should celebrate that we are all Canadians now. Looking straight at Ivor and at John Kobayashi, he said that he would punish anyone he caught fighting like this or calling names. He can be very fierce. I hope that Ivor will remember this fierceness.

  I liked what Mr. Hughes said about being Canadian, but now it is making me sad. Twenty-four years my Baba has lived and worked in Canada, longer than he was in China, but I don’t think people see him as Canadian, do they? If they did, he could have his family here so easily and we would all be happy.

  Ah, I must not write gloomy thoughts. If I look out of my window, it is beautiful. We had snow! Just a little, but it makes everything look clean.

  Yook Jieh is standing in the doorway of the Mahs’ house. She has seen me and is waving.

  Thursday, December 7

  I am still an ice girl. Everyone is shaking their heads about how cold the weather has been. I am glad at school for the stove, and glad that Bess and I sit near it. I worry about Baba and his journey to work. His coat is very thin and he has no gloves. At least the Baldwins’ house is warm and he tells me that the kitchen is hot, once he starts the day’s cooking. Yesterday Mrs. Baldwin asked him to shovel the snow from the pathways, and even though he did not complain to me, I think he was very cold. Perhaps I can make him some mittens as a gift for the Winter Solstice Festival.

  Ivor was not in school today. Declan says he has a cold. A mean part of me was glad. I have given up trying to talk to Bess about what she did. She will not listen, and when I tried very hard to make her, she asked Mr. Hughes if she could change seats and sit with Ada. My heart got all empty, but I was lucky that Mr. Hughes said she could not change her seat for a whim.

  Oh, Diary, I am writing the little details, when I have big news.

  Yook Jieh was still waiting for me when Mr. Chee and I set off for the restaurant yesterday. He grumbled when I stopped to talk to her, but the Mahs’ cook invited him to sit in the kitchen and have some tea. I think Cook fed him a little too, because Mr. Chee seemed very happy when we set out again.

  The big news is not my news, but Yook Jieh’s. Some of the bachelors have started coming around to see Mr. Mah, wanting to marry her, and he has said that he will find a suitable match! She giggled and her face got very pink when she told me how she hid behind the kitchen door and listened to Mr. Mah greet some of them. Four different men have visited. They bring him gifts. One even brought a bottle of whisky.

  Yook Jieh to be married, Ai-yah! She seemed so happy that I felt mean when some words flew out of my mouth: “Will you choose or will Mr. Mah?” Even as I spoke I knew the answer, and it made me sad. Yook Jieh is Mr. Mah’s muui-jaai and he will take whatever is offered as a bride price; that is the way it works.

  She just laughed, telling me that Mrs. Mah has promised that they will choose a young, handsome husband for her. I did not say anything more. Young, handsome men do not have money — our friend Tsung Sook is just such a one.

  Friday, December 8

  I was going to write more about Yook Jieh, but we have much snow. It fills my head and not just the streets.

  It was difficult to walk. Poor Lily struggled with it. Her feet kept slipping and she had to lift them high. When she started to cry I could not bear it, so I gave her a piggyback the last bit of our journey home. For such a little girl, she was heavy, but I managed. My teeth were clattering together, so I could hardly speak when I went into the Lees’ store. Mrs. Lee was there and she cried out when she saw us. She made me come upstairs and have some hot tea while she changed Lily’s wet clothes. Even the tea could not warm me, but it was nice to have some. It was the first time that Mrs. Lee has ever offered me food or drink. The Lees have a stove and the room was warm. I would have liked to stay there, but I also wanted to go home and change my stockings. My feet and legs were turned a funny blue colour, and they felt like hot needles were pricking them.

  It has been a day of gifts for me, Diary. Mrs. Lee gave me twenty cents extra for taking such good care of Lily! They must be very rich to throw money so generously. I do not know whether this is a good thing to do, but I am not going to give that money to Baba. I shall buy wool and make him mittens. Is that very wrong of me? It is money we were not expecting. I knit well — Miss Clarke said so in Handicrafts.

  The money was not Mrs. Lee’s only gift to me. She brought a min-naap back with her from the bedroom and placed it around my shoulders. It was lovely. The padding inside the silk made it warm, and soon my teeth stopped banging. I went to hand it back to her when it was time to leave, but she waved it away and said that it was mine to keep. “It is old, Mei-ling, and does not fit me any more,” she said. “See, how the silk is fraying on the jacket’s cuffs?” I did not care. It was beautiful. I have never had so fine a garment before. It is like wearing a beautiful blue cloud. I am wearing it now as I write, and the ice girl has thawed.

  I nearly forgot, I had one more gift — Ivor was still away!

  Saturday, December 9

  It is quite late. The last customers are just le
aving the restaurant and Baba and I will walk home soon. I worried about him yesterday, thinking Mrs. Baldwin would make him clear all that snow, but it was the gardener’s day to come and he did it. Mrs. Baldwin has been kind to Baba too. She has given him some of Mr. Baldwin’s old gloves. Baba sighed when he showed me them and shook his head. “What have we come to, Ah-Mei,” he asked, “that we have to accept the kindness of others just to keep warm.” I knew he was thinking about my min-naap. I feel very bad. I do not need the money I kept to buy wool for mittens now, and I should have given it straight to Baba, but how can I do that now without him thinking that I am a deceitful girl who hides things from him? Perhaps, next week, it can be a bonus.

  It has not been a pleasant day, and I have had no time to write until now.

  There was still more snow, not as much as yesterday, but maybe another two inches. Mr. Chee did not want to go this morning on our usual route. He does not look well. I took our washing to the laundry. It was no harder than usual, because I always carry it, but I forget how Mr. Chee acts as my guardian. Despite the snow, there were a lot of men on the streets, and they yelled to me. I do not look at them, but keep my eyes on the ground. “Talk to us, Big Loser’s Daughter!” they shout or, “Don’t be proud. Stop and pass the time of day and we will buy you dim-sum.” That would be shameful, so I made my feet hurry. One man got up from the box where he was sitting and walked alongside me, talking all the time. “Pretty girl,” he said, “do not ignore us. We mean you no harm. Let me carry your bag for you?” From the corner of my eye I saw his hand reach out and then I ran. I did not stop until I ran into someone, someone solid and tall who called out my name. It was Tsung Sook. He walked with me and then walked me home. The men turned their attention to him, making mean comments about how he was lucky to be such close friends with my father. He did not ignore them and taunted them back, calling them wastrels who sit and gamble their money away. One of them spat at our feet as we walked by.

  My day was made sour because of this. I have been thinking a lot about Yook Jieh, wondering if more suitors visited the Mahs today. With so few women here, the Mahs will get a good bride price for her. I hope they choose well for her — not an old, old man, because she is only fifteen. Fifteen is a good age to marry; Ma was fifteen when she was chosen for Baba’s bride. Some girls are younger when they marry, it is true, but I am only just twelve. Do those rude men not know that? They seem to know everything else. Why would they want me to talk to them?

  Monday, December 11

  Yesterday — my apologies, Diary — I did not write in you. I meant to, but Baba and Wong Bak and Tsung Sook asked me to play mah joong with them when the restaurant closed. Mr. Chee is normally the fourth player, but has a cold so he stayed in his room. I am not a very good player, but I am lucky!

  In the afternoon I spent some time with Yook Jieh and yes, more men did come to visit Mr. Mah, because word has got out that he is looking for a match. She is happy. She says that her fortune will be made here in Gold Mountain. I hope it will be true.

  It has been colder than ever. When will it end? Mr. Hughes was telling us that this is unusual weather. I do not care, I just want it to go away. Ivor was back. Sickness has not made him a nicer person, but he is such a crafty boy. He pokes and whispers mean things only when he knows that he will not be caught. All day he kept whispering, “Watch out, May Chin, I haven’t forgotten that you got me into trouble. I’m going to make your life miserable!” I made sure that I stayed with Bess.

  At the end of the day Mr. Hughes gave me a package of books to take to Miss MacDonald for us to work on. He is a very kind man. When I said this to Bess, she snorted and said, “Oh, May, can’t you see he’s sweet on that do-gooder and wants to impress her.” It does not matter to me. I am just thankful.

  It was wonderful. Mr. Hughes had put a note inside the package that arithmetic is my weakest subject, so that is what we concentrated upon. Miss MacDonald made it seem easy and, finally, fractions made sense to me. It is hard because the other students learned much before I even came to Canada. She has set me some sums for tomorrow, so this will be a short entry. We were in the parlour. I will definitely have a parlour when I am a grown-up woman!

  Tuesday, December 12

  One month I have been writing in you, Diary, and I hope that I have done it right. It is hard for so many reasons, and it is getting harder, but I like doing it because I can talk about everything in your pages, and that is something I cannot do so easily with people. What happens at school, I cannot talk about with people here, in Chinatown — they would not understand, or Ivor Jones’s meanness to me would worry them, or make them think that school is a bad thing. But it is not. Learning new things, that is the best thing of all. That makes my mind soar like a bird. I can write that, but if I said it to Wong Bak or Yook Jieh, they would look at me like I was a truly crazy girl.

  Baba understands, I think, but I see him so little and it is rare we talk of serious things. His mind is eaten up with worry about how we will get Ma and Little Brother here. I worry too, but I do not say because it will make Baba’s worry all the bigger. I don’t write about them much here, because I think of them so often that if I wrote it here, that’s all there would be. It is not something easy to talk about either, and not to people like Bess and Miss MacDonald. Bess is not interested in what she calls “Chinese malarkey.” Miss MacDonald is interested, always she has questions, but they make me uncomfortable and my answers are short. Some sorrows are private.

  Wednesday, December 13

  My entries are getting shorter. Yesterday Baba made me stop because he wanted to sleep, and said that I should too. But often that is the only time I have to write in you, Diary, when we return from the restaurant late at night! I used to write in the morning, but now I do the extra work Miss MacDonald sets me before I go to the Lees’ to look after the children. (The baby has two new teeth — he is much sweeter in his temper now!) After school I rush back and go straight to see Miss MacDonald. My school homework I do in the restaurant between my chores. I am always terrified that it will be spoiled if something is spilled upon it. I try not to risk your beauty there!

  Baba is watching me as I write. He pretends he is reading The Chinese Times, which someone left in the restaurant tonight, but I see him sneaking little peeks at me. I hope I can finish before he wants us to sleep. He coughs too. I wonder if it is his way of getting my attention so that perhaps I will stop.

  My last entries have sounded complaining, but I do not mean them to. I think other people may have far worse things to face than I do, like Bess. She has become quiet again and will not tell me what is wrong. “Nothing!” she says, but she won’t look at me. Declan’s face was all bruised today. He came and stood with us rather than play with the bigger boys. I wonder if Ivor beat him.

  Friday, December 15

  I missed another day. I knew it would happen. Sometimes I am very selfish and think only of myself. Poor Baba was not false coughing. He has caught Mr. Chee’s cold and it has been very bad. Last night he was so pale and tired-looking that I knew he must sleep as soon as we got home. I worry about him working so hard, and wish that he could stay home and rest, but he said that there are many who would be happy to take his place with the Baldwins if he should fail to go. I am keeping my fingers crossed (is that not a strange expression, because if I did, I could not write!) that he will recover soon. Mr. Chee is much better. He is a little weak, and his cough continues, but he was waiting for me outside the church today after my time with Miss MacDonald, and walked to the restaurant with me. It was nice to have a peaceful walk again, with no catcalls.

  A whole week of lessons with Miss MacDonald! I have learned so much. Arithmetic has been our main study, but we have also worked on English and dictations. She is very kind, even if she is very nosey. She always has tea for me. Today she stopped our study early. She complimented me on my progress, even in just a week. She told me how her church has helped other Chinese young people with their
studies. She told me of one girl, a girl from Victoria, and they are helping pay for her to become a doctor! This is very shocking to me — a doctor! I did not know that girls can be doctors. That would be such a fine thing to do. If I became a doctor I could help all those people in Chinatown who fear going to the Canadian hospitals with their white doctors and nurses. Miss MacDonald laughed at my surprised face. “Mr. Hughes was right, May. You are a very clever girl. With the right opportunity and help, you could do anything you wanted to do!” she said.

  Saturday, December 16

  Last night was a tossy-turny night as I tried to sleep, but could not. Baba was coughing a lot. I got up and made him hot water with ginger root and that seemed to help. But it was not just the coughing. It was Miss MacDonald’s words; they ran in my head like dogs chasing cats. I know she told me about that girl because she wanted to encourage me, but she is wrong, wrong, wrong! I cannot do anything I want. Not even when we finally have Ma and Little Brother here. Then I must still work to make the family secure. It is so hard. Miss MacDonald means well, but what does she know of what it is like to be me?

  Later

  I kept those thoughts out of my mind, Diary. I will not let myself dream. Working helped. I cleaned our little room, and then I cleaned Mr. Chee’s. He grumbled at me and said that I made him feel tired because I was always moving like a spinning top, but he was pleased, I know. He is much better, but he is very thin after his cold.

  It seems like everyone is happy now. I visited with Yook Jieh this afternoon and she is fluttery like a bird with excitement. Mrs. Mah has told her that they will choose her husband soon, so that she can be married by the New Year celebrations. That would be very fine. She worried me because she told me that one of her suitors last week came all the way from Victoria. I hope he is not the chosen one. I do not want Yook Jieh to go so far away, but maybe that is a selfish thought.