But Father is right, again. My cousin and her family think like those people. Some men in the street that we pass think that way. Some of the boys at my school think that way. These people have ruined the day for us. There is nothing for the Chinese person or the half-Chinese person like me to celebrate on this day. I do think that many people do not want us here.
We did not mention this to my Mother or my sisters.
I hope that Elizabeth had fun with her Australian friends!
Wednesday, 27 January
Tonight Father is not here at home. He is attending the official opening of the Joss House, the temple. It will happen at midnight. One of Father’s friends will officially open the temple. There will be prayers and offerings of rice cakes and sweet meats and there maybe even be a few fireworks. They will have to sneak those in. The residents won’t be pleased but this is part of the celebrations.
I suggested to Mother that it would be fun for me to stay all night at Glebe Point but she was not permitting any of her children to be there. Tomorrow’s celebrations will be enough, she decided. She even made us go to bed early.
Father left the store in very high spirits. Father does not wear his silk clothes often—sometimes I wish he did because tonight he looked quite regal and very imperial as I watched him walk out to the tram stop. My father is a splendid man.
Thursday, 28 January
What a day of celebration today has been. I am sooo tired after such a long celebration but I have to write down about today.
The temple has been officially opened. Chinese people from all the states of the Commonwealth came. They offered thanks, and prayers. I have never seen so much bowing; Father calls it obeisance, especially as the people entered the temple. And I have never seen so much Chinese food, the smells enriched the air and the feast filled our stomachs so that I won’t have to eat for a week. And I have never smelt so much incense. All over the temple grounds the smell was wafting through the air. And the parade … what a splendid parade it was. Father was able to make a place for his family at the front of the crowds so that we could see everything, including the very immense wild dragon. If I did not know better I would have sworn that this was a Chinese New Year celebration, there was so much noise, excitement and food. The noise—sometimes I had to cover my ears to muffle the clashing cymbals and gongs, but it was so much fun. Chinese people all around were jumping and dancing in the air, like they were kites. Chinese celebrations everywhere. After the parade we all sat down and feasted and rested.
Father stayed at the temple all night and still he is awake. Now he is not wearing his silk clothes. He is dressed in his business suit and hat and no Australian, either Chinese or English, looks more elegant than my Father.
We travelled by tram to the temple early in the morning. I could tell we were nearing the temple. Even at New Year’s I have never seen so many Chinese people dressed in their Chinese clothes. Women were wearing their cheongsams and men their silk jackets, slippers and hats. Some of the women even had their parasols open. We were wearing our best Sunday church clothes, which is appropriate because we are attending a temple. Many of the Chinese people, especially the men, they were also wearing their European clothes. They look quite resplendent in their suits and vests and business hats.
Mother is not allowed in the temple yet, so we also remained outside with her, or maybe only the Chinese part of us would have been allowed to go inside. Now I wonder which part of me is Chinese; the eyes, the legs? I know my hair is definitely Chinese.
Father went inside last night and offered his prayers and presented gifts to Ki Tung, the Temple god—I hope that Ki Tung did not eat all the foodstuffs offered to him. There were so many rice cakes that he will have had rice growing from every ear!
The temple looks like the houses nearby built from red bricks. Now it has two side temples and many banners. One room has been added where people can come to honour their ancestors, presenting food and burning money and incense and offering prayers. This is good—especially for Chinese people who do not know where their ancestors are buried. People like Mr Lee, whose Father died somewhere on the goldfields. He now can come here to honour his ancestors. Even Father could do this. This is very good.
A temple has also been built for Choy Puk Shing Kung, the joss of fortune; this room has many statues and smells much, Mr Lee told me. I do not understand very well all the different gods that the Chinese worship. Some of the Chinese men say that the Christian way of having one God to worship for everything is too much work and that the Chinese way of having different gods for different duties is much better.
The gong sounded. I am sure my heart missed a beat. It was loud. It rang in my head for ages. On our way back home Mr Lee explained that the gong hitting was of vital importance … ‘to let gods know people here’. But I am sure the gods would have known that people were here anyway by the smells and all the other noise around. No gong bashing was needed.
I think that the European people living around here are not going to be pleased with all this Chinese activity, the gong bashing and the incense smells and the praying and chanting but this is important for Chinese people. And the burning of paper money. That too is of vital importance because like the food that is offered for the gods so that they never go hungry, the paper money is so that they will be able to buy the things they need. ‘Chinese no silly’ said Mr Lee. ‘It special paper money we buy to burn.’ And then he whispered, ‘It no real money we get from banks. We Chinese go broke,’ he giggled. Chinese people will be meeting here for ever I am sure. A special Chinese place this will be.
‘Chek Chee, you must remember these things,’ it was Father speaking to me as we were entering our store. ‘When you go to China you will continue these traditions just like your brother is doing now.’
I did not need reminding that I am going to China.
Oh, happy birthday Mr Noble.
Friday, 29 January
They exploded crackers on Wednesday night but Father told me the real fireworks happened at dawn—then the residents really knew that the gods were being propitiated. And with fireworks there was also much music and at the end of the day a concert, a very loud concert. Father loves the loud Chinese music. So does Mr Lee. ‘The music is a strain to most foreign ears,’ they said. ‘Western people have not become accustomed to the sounds.’ I am unaccustomed to the sounds, but in the temple and with so many Chinese people there and so much food and so much celebration I liked what I was hearing. I told Father that I enjoyed the celebrations, even his music. Father was so very pleased. ‘See, you are my son,’ he said grinning.
The store opened late today. Our whole family slept in, even Father. Tonight he is very weary. He was asleep in his chair, snoring at the evening meal.
‘Not as young as used to be Chek Chee, not as young,’ he said when I nudged him awake. ‘But all those meetings and the organising, everyone is very happy.’
Saturday, 30 January
I nearly forgot the cricket … we won by an innings on Wednesday in three days. Mr Noble must be very pleased. I was going to have a bowl at the wall today in celebration but I can’t find my ball.
Monday, 1 February
Elizabeth yelled at me as I walked in the door after school and she called me Eddie.
‘Now Elizabeth,’ roused Mother, ‘we have already talked about this. You know what is expected. We want you to be here as part of the family. You will be working and you are not to disrupt the children—especially Edward. Of course he will be as courteous to you as he is to his Father, to me and to his sisters.’
‘Yes Aunty,’ she replied so obediently.
And then looking at me she added, ‘Won’t you Edward?’ What could I say?
Elizabeth asked me, away from other ears as she was leaving this afternoon, if you people had fun at the party. ‘You people’ she said. ‘It is the talk of the town; Pa says so. And not good talk either. Lots of the people were not pleased and complained about the smells and
the crackers and that shocking noise.’
I told her that it was fun and it was exciting and it was a great celebration. And then I added that if the people did not like the fireworks then that is too bad because that is how we Chinese celebrate.
And into Father’s office I slid. I said we Chinese and that is right.
Tuesday, 2 February
I know my father and mother are different to the parents of other boys at school. I have known that for a long time but …
My mother and father look different to each other, that is the first difference. All the parents of boys I know at school are the same. They look the same.
But it is not just what they look like which makes them different. Father works in the store and sometimes Mother does too. Most other mothers are at home looking after the family and cooking cakes in the oven, or cleaning the rooms. Or they are preparing meals and washing the clothes, all of which Mother does very well. But sometimes Father does these too. She doesn’t read the Chinese characters or talk Chinese, but women customers really do like Mother’s special attention.
Father is very proud that his wife is different. They enjoy working together. Now with more and more meetings Mother is in the store with me in the afternoons. Mother and I cannot do everything, especially if Father wants to open a branch. Elder Brother might have to come home early.
‘Finally!’ exclaimed Mother when Father told her about the meeting with the officials to sponsor his brother next week. Father is pleased. Mother is pleased. It will be good to have another Chinaman from the family in the store running the business and helping to start the new store.
Now we have also run out of preserved ginger. That is impossible but true. We will have to wait till the next ship arrives with the goods. I hope none of the other stores needs ginger.
I hope Father gets good news at the meeting. But I also hope he doesn’t. Then it will take longer for his brother to come here and then I can stay here longer. Nothing they tell me convinces me that I will be permitted to come back home after I go to China.
I still don’t know how Father’s brother will be permitted to come here when other Chinese men are told they can’t return to Australia. This is confusing.
Wednesday, 3 February
Hooray … the temple opening has featured in the Sydney Mail. Father has purchased a copy but not because of the flattering words printed there. No. Father purchased a copy because the Mail has a photo of the opening and right there in the middle of the photo with one of the shield-bearing men walking by is ME. I had to look closely but it was definitely me, and our whole family. Father was sooo proud. He announced it to Mother and my sisters, and anyone who happened to walk into the store today I expect.
How wonderful to see a celebratory picture in the newspapers with Chinese people. There are men and women wearing Chinese clothes and there are men and women wearing European clothes and there are drums and gongs and dancers and many people squatting and standing watching the parade.
When he showed Elizabeth she was very interested. She even asked Father some questions. But later she said to me, ‘That really could have been anybody Eddie. It wasn’t clearly your family. There really were so many Chinas there.’
I ignored the Chinas. ‘Well anyone who knows our family can see. Not only by our clothes but also Mother and us children.’ We don’t look like most of the others, whether they are Chinese or English. That is why Father is so proud of us. I keep remembering his words; it is you, and those like you who will be the bridge. There’s going to be lots of bridges being built.
Father purchased three copies of the paper and has cut out the pictures. One is to be framed and hung above the desk in his office, another is to be framed and hung above the counter in the store so that everyone can see.
‘What is the third one for?’ I asked.
‘For you to take to China and show all our family there.’
Father is very, very proud.
Thursday, 4 February
It is definitely going to happen. Mother and Father talked about it last night. Father’s fourth brother who operates the business in China is to journey to Australia to work with Father. When that happens Mother will permit Father to operate a branch store. My uncle will not be able to take out citizenship and live here permanently like Father, and my uncle will be required to return to Hong Kong after his period of employment, but Father says that we may be able to extend his work here and sponsor him. We have to show that the job that he is doing here in Australia is not the job that another Australian man here could also do. Then he will be permitted to come here, but if another Australian man could be doing the job then no luck. No fourth brother. No branch store.
Luckily there are very few white men who can speak the Chinese language fluently and it is very fortuitous that they do not know the Chinese characters very well and that they do not have the trade knowledge that Father or Uncle has. But Fourth Uncle has family in China too. He will have to leave them there to begin with so he will be away from his family for a year or more.
On Yik could have helped Father in the store but he is now in China. Even Father could not get his family here: ‘On Yik is not family,’ said Father. ‘It is better to have family in the business, not an outsider, even a man like On Yik.’
Father sent a telegram to his fourth brother today and started organising his passage. There are more letters and documents to write for him to come so Father will be very busy. A letter from the Collector of Customs allowing entry does not always work, it did before but not after the latest changes. Father needs to have complete documents. ‘Sometimes Chinese men have been refused entry with the customs letter even though it is official.’
It will be some months before he actually arrives if he is able to come.
I wonder where Fourth Uncle will sleep.
I know where, my room. I will be in China by then with other relatives.
Friday, 5 February
I have avoided my cousin for most of the week. This is good, no, this is clever. I hope that I can do this whenever she is here. I go to school before she arrives and then I rapidly ascend the stairs and avoid the kitchen when I arrive home. One afternoon I even avoided going down until I knew that she had left.
I am sure that it is not normal to avoid a person who is working in your own house.
Saturday, 6 February
I gathered the paper before Father today. I was searching for news about the opening of the temple, maybe even a picture, but there was none. Funny how the Chinese paper had no photo. They weren’t very interesting, the stories that I was able to decipher today.
Tuesday, 9 February
Uncle would not let Elizabeth come until our whole family was well. He was afraid that she would catch the plague from the Chinas—that’s what Elizabeth said. He is like so many ignorant people here thinking that the plague, the Black Death, that broke out again last year was caused by Chinese people. I remember that when it first struck in the Rocks in 1900, there were buildings demolished and people died. Not just Chinese people. I ignored her teasing comments about the Chinese rats!
Wednesday, 10 February
I will not apologise to Elizabeth. She is a stupid, stupid girl, a trouble maker. I hate Elizabeth. I did nothing wrong but I am going to be in severe trouble today if Father or Mother ever finds out what happened. This is worse than punching my cousin or cheating at school. I have disobeyed Father and Mother intensely. I promised I never would but I have done it. It was not my fault.
Today Mother asked me to go to the store with Elizabeth. I did not want to go with her but Mother insisted. We walked down the street the usual way but then she turned the corner and started walking along Pitt Street. I rarely go that way. We kept walking and she kept telling me to scamper along and stop being a slow Chinaman. I hate her for that.
‘Just like all you Ching Chong Chinamen. Can’t keep up.’
I was furious and started running after her. I do not know what I would hav
e done had I caught up with Elizabeth but I never found out. She runs really fast.
Eventually she was slowing and I started to catch her. Then I looked at where we were. I yelled at Elizabeth. She was dragging me into deep trouble. ‘I’m going back,’ I hollered. I stood, waiting; hoping that what was happening would just disappear.
She knew what she was doing. She heard the warnings often enough. We were near the gambling shops where I should never be. She entered. They don’t like trespassers in those stores. They will throw her out I told myself. But if they did not throw her out … argh. I could not imagine what might happen. I hated this. I walked gingerly near the entrance.
I stood outside the front. I could not decide what to do. If I was caught I would be in the severest trouble of my life. If something happened to Elizabeth I would be in severe trouble. I was at a loss what to do. I slowly crept in the blackened doorway. I could see the shadows. I crept further in. Elizabeth came running out.
I turned and followed.
‘Stupid girl,’ yelled one of the Chinese men there. ‘No allowed here. Get out nasty girl. You boy, go.’ They threw a tea pot as we ran. Then she stopped and turned around and mimicked, ‘Stupid boy. No China boy. No English boy. No Australian boy. Stupid boy.’ And she laughed.
I ran fast. Elizabeth ran faster. I had to catch her.
By the time that we arrived back at the store, empty-handed, I was dripping with sweat. I flung the door open, shattering the vase on the pillar next to it. ‘That girl,’ I yelled at Mother who was standing with Elizabeth by her side, ‘that girl …’. I stumbled and knew not what to say, ‘that girl is horrid.’
The Melting Pot Page 10
