Surprisingly, it was a pleasant walk. Elizabeth seemed interested in all the things that I had to tell her about the past few days. At first I was very cautious and walked at a frightful pace but when Elizabeth was able to keep speed with me I slowed a little.
‘That’s better E …’ She didn’t say Eddie. ‘I was fair runnin’ out of breath I was.’ We walked. I talked. Two days and Elizabeth has not caused me any trouble so I continued an easy conversation. She seemed interested. It took only a short while, probably because of our talking, and we were at the wharf. I showed her the trading ships and the stores where they offload the cargos. We were watching people boarding a steamer. The pleasant conversation did not last.
She was wondering where all the people were going. I explained that the Chinese people were travelling to China, mostly second class too.
‘What for?’
‘Some will be going home permanently. Some will be going home for a short while and some will be going to China to conduct business.’
‘What business?’
She asked so many questions. I just wanted to sit and watch and listen. I love the sound of the wharf activity and the ocean smell.
‘Bringing goods and merchandise back for people all over Australia. We do lots of trading with China, like tea and cloths and slippers and Chinese foods that you see in our store.’
‘We don’t need those.’
I tried to explain that there are many families, and not just Chinese ones, who rely on Father to import the goods. They purchase the goods and eat the food from stores that are run by Chinese men and women. I should not have joked with Elizabeth but I did, ‘Did you know, their eyes haven’t changed shape and they still wear the same clothes and their skin, it is still the same colour.’ And I explained that business travel is very important for merchants and traders, and especially those with business in China who have to travel to maintain their business.
‘And look at that family,’ I pointed. ‘Not all of those people travelling are Chinese. That family is not and I know they won’t be travelling second class. Don’t you think it is strange that those people can travel overseas and return with no problem, not having to complete forms that say they are domiciled here and that they should be permitted entry without any problems? Why is that not the way for the Chinese?’
‘Don’t know,’ she replied ‘but if they want to go to China then they should stay in China.’
‘So those Australians who travel to England should stay there too.’ And I turned around and headed for the store. This conversation was going nowhere. ‘Come on. Don’t dawdle. Father needs me back there.’ And you need to get inside and do the work that you are paid you to do,’ I mumbled spitefully. There was silence during the long walk back.
I am confused. Many Chinese businessmen have toiled long and hard to establish lucrative businesses. If they are not granted certificates of domicile with permission to come and go as required they will be ruined. The businessman has no alternative but to sacrifice the business, sell up and leave—or never return to China.
Sunday, 21 February
I asked Father this afternoon why we needed to have Elizabeth visit so much when she really did very little of the work that she was supposed to do. I also asked why she had to spend so much time with me. He responded with the usual—family and respect and needing help and information, and that this was a way for her to learn to accept other people and that different cultures can co-exist. I have heard it often.
‘She’ll never learn.’ I replied. Father was not pleased.
‘That is talk just like the adults have. She is surrounded by people who do not understand other cultures. Of course she is going to be sounding just like them. It is up to us to let her see that things can be different. It is not easy I am sure but it is the task that we all must do. And beside she is the daughter of your mother’s sister and your mother wants to help her family as much as possible. It was hurting her immensely when her family were not talking to us so we have to do this.’
I wanted to tell Father that we might have to do this but that we did not have to be always me. I remained silent.
Monday, 22 February
Father still has not completed the paperwork. Mother is disgusted and has demanded that today the store be closed and that he completes the papers for his brother to come. Mother insisted. Father delivered the papers this afternoon.
Tuesday, 23 February
Wah Gow has been working as a cook in a café in town. He has lost his job. The new owner said that an Australian man could do the same cooking and better too so he fired him. Straight away he ran and is hiding. He knows he will be deported. Mr Lee told Father. Father thinks that Mr Lee might know where Wah Gow is. Father said that this was just another example of the hatred of this immigration policy. He will ask other merchants to see if there are any jobs for Chinese cooks.
Father is right. This is hatred. Wah Gow has no protection. He is not naturalised.
Wednesday, 24 February
Father was giggling lots when I walked into the store this afternoon. ‘Some of the Chinese can be sooo silly,’ he told me when I asked him what was causing this amusement. It was Ah Lum. His mother living in China has died so he wants to bring his daughter to Australia. That is good for the family. But Ah Lum struggles with putting three English words together. He thought that he was following the correct procedure by going to a translator and having the English translator write a letter. But he wrote the word wife instead of mother. Father giggled again as he was telling me.
And that would have meant that Ah Lum had two wives. I giggled at that. ‘Ah,’ said Father, ‘some Chinese men do have more than one wife, Edward. Some have a wife in China and another wife here. Some have two wives in China, but definitely not Ah Lum. He has one wife only and she lives here. Aiee,’ he exclaimed. ‘One wife is enough for any man,’ he said.
It’s just like YC who saw Father last week. He went to the English translator to bring his daughter here. When I had a puzzled look on my face Father said ‘Think about it. Do the arithmetic Chek Chee. YC has been married for five years and for ten years before that he was operating his store. He never travelled anywhere.’ And then it was obvious, YC was here when according to the translation he had a daughter in China. Now I know why Father was giggling. I giggled too.
‘Yes. Now you see,’ together we laughed.
Monday, 29 February
Imagine being born today—or having a birthday today. If you were 20 years old you would really only have had your fifth birthday. But you would be the smartest five-year-old!
Tuesday, 1 March
Tonight we dined with Mr Lee and his relatives who live next to Belmore markets.
There were no stars tonight in the sky that I could see but there were lanterns everywhere bathing the evening in a soft glow. Tonight is the first full moon of the Lunar New Year. All around the world wherever there are Chinese people there will be lanterns on parade and the very carefully made sky lanterns will be released.
Lanterns rising to the heavens bring good luck. I know that so I told Father before he could ask me. I wanted him to know that I do remember the traditions that are so much a part of the family. ‘Good Chek Chee. You remember. Now if only I could remember how to release the sky lantern … ahhh. That’s good.’ And away it floated into the distant sky.
I had the most wonderfully-decorated lantern all the way from China. This one was not even made here. This was brilliant but I shared my lantern with Younger Sister. As she was walking a wind caught the flame and made it dance around inside her lantern. The lantern caught fire and collapsed. Tears were about to flow, she does that, but then I asked her to help me. I told her that it needed two strong people to carry it.
Father told me about his lantern parade growing up on the goldfields when the men who would mine gold in the gully were forced out by the big-noses. That year was a special year when he was the only boy in the bush camp. The rest were all men and he
led the parade carrying the lantern on a long stick. All the men followed him. What a privilege. That year they could not release lanterns into the sky. He worried that the gods would not look favourably on them providing them with good fortune. ‘You have good fortune now BaBa,’ I told him.
Tonight Father was again asked to lead the parade, with his family by his side. He had a tear in his eyes.
Wednesday, 2 March
Father has been asked to locate a teacher of a boy called George Ah Kee. George cannot enter Australia from China because he does not have papers that show he was living here. Father will start by sending a telegram to the teacher at George’s old school in Kiandra.
Thursday, 3 March
‘It is another immigration nightmare,’ hollered Father this afternoon. He was furious. Many men are now being refused the Certificate of Domicile, Chinese men who have lived here in the city for 20 years or more. ‘They are domiciled here,’ he said trying to calm down. ‘If they can’t get their certificates then no one can. This is impossible.’
Today there were two more complaints. Tonight, Ah Way is still here. The customs officer did not think Ah Way’s shop is really a tobacco shop so he has refused a certificate, even though he has been in Australia for more than 25 years. He has grown and sold vegetables that many people have purchased, including the wives of government ministers, he has attended city council meetings, he operates a tobacco shop (a good one not an evil one) and he owns the stock yet the official thinks that he is simply a hawker and not a merchant. If he were a merchant then he would now have a certificate.
The official is the man who calls Chinese people the undesirables. He refused a certificate, even after it had already been approved. Ah Way had completed the application form, attached Father’s reference and also one from European stall holders at the markets (they wrote that Ah Way was a trustworthy, well-connected Chinaman). He would surely receive his papers.
But the only paper he received was a letter telling him that the certificate was refused. It wasn’t even a personal letter. He was not even afforded the courtesy of an interview to discuss the situation. Ah Way can go to China to visit his relatives but when he wants to come back into the country he will be refused entry, sent to jail and then back to China on the first available passage.
Father is furious.
Friday, 4 March
I cannot understand why Ah Way was not given the certificate. Ah Way is a market gardener too. If he was a merchant and not just a tobacconist then he would have the certificate and he would be packing his bags for China. ‘Some Chinese men,’ said Mr Lee when he visited our store, ‘be pleased with decision. Some Chinese think a garden man not as good as merchant. Some think a laundry man too not good.’
I know what is being done but I cannot understand how a government that relies on trade with places like China can be so forbidding to the people. Why do they hate Chinese people so? Are they truly afraid that Chinese people will infect the European population? That is what some thought when the Black Death struck. If they are then I must be an infection?
Monday, 7 March
I have been left alone at school for weeks now. Today I had my worst day ever. It is because I am different that I was treated this way. I am clever and can easily complete all the work but I do not try to show my cleverness even though Father would like me to. I look different. That is why.
Today was a writing lesson. I had completed the slate copy and I was writing the work in my copy book. Inks were delivered to our tables and the pens distributed. Last week I was jabbed with a pen nib but today was way worse.
My concentration was intense, so intense I did not notice what was happening. Robert was sitting behind me. It must have been him. But sometime between sitting up straight and waiting for directions from the teacher and then leaning over the desk to start my copy work the tip of my queue found the inkwell. I am so careful about trying to keep my queue contained, placing it inside my jumper or even my shirt. I do not know how it came out but it found the inkwell. Impossible. One boy placed ever so carefully the tip of the queue into the freshly filled inkwell. I know my queue is long enough to reach a filled well. And when I began my copy work the queue dragged out of the well across the desk and onto the back of my shirt. Even then I did not feel any different. Had it been an accident Robert would have alerted the teacher and me straight away but I know he waited until he was sure that enough ink had soaked through.
‘Sir,’ he blurted out from behind me with hand straight into the air. ‘Edward’s hair is in the ink and it’s messin’ my desk.’
The teacher rushed over, cane drawn and snarling.
‘Sir, I was concentratin’ and did not see him flick his hair back. It plopped fairly into the well it did. I was tryin’ hard to form correct letters. It wasn’t till I looked up and saw the black line on my desk that I noticed. And look. There’s a blob of ink on his back too.’ And he couldn’t help adding, ‘Should cut his hair sir. Wear hair like real boys.’
I don’t know if the teacher heard the insult or was just simply ignoring the comment. I wanted to turn and tell him about people of convict ancestry but before I could teacher was standing over me.
‘Edward, get outside and dry your hair. Clean up the mess. The girls don’t have any trouble with keeping their long hair out of the ink wells so I never would have expected boys to have hair problems. What does your father do? Tell him to cut your hair or keep it up.’
He did hear the comment. I do not wish to tell Father or Mother but they will surely know.
When I explained what happened that afternoon to Mother she was very considerate. She did not berate me or get annoyed with me. She told me that there is no way that I am to cut my hair just because some boys, and even the teachers, don’t like the look of it or that they think that it is girl like to wear long hair. Chinese men are extremely proud of their hair. ‘English men had long hair too,’ she said. ‘Just look at some of those bushranger types or even the sailors who sailed around the globe to find this country. They had long hair. And if long hair on men was such a bad thing then why do judges have wigs of hair.’
At school Mother had long hair too and the same thing happened to her. She told me that I must make sure that I wear my hair inside my shirt. She also told me that she accidentally-on-purpose tripped over an outstretched leg when she was carrying inks later that year and the ink went all over the desk of the ink-well dipper.
Immediately Mother saw the shirt she sent me to Mr Lee. ‘With his magic ways he will be able to remove all the ink from the shirt and it will be as good as new.’
Tuesday, 8 March
This morning Father demonstrated how to wrap my hair. I rarely see his hair wrapped around the top of his head but people do not dip his queue in the inkwell or tug at his hair. It twists around my head and my hat hides the wrapped queue.
‘Nice hair Edward,’ whispered Elizabeth. I will only wear my hair like this as a last resort. For the moment I will simply keep my hair inside my shirt.
Wednesday, 9 March
George’s old teacher had moved schools but finally, after many telegrams Father has received communication.
This is good news with all these immigration problems that Father is having. He hopes to finally sort out George’s entry. I hope so too. It must be intolerable being alone and refused entry while your family is here.
I know Father says that I will be permitted to re-enter Australia but all these problems are still occurring and maybe I won’t.
Thursday, 10 March
A dribble of rain today. I have barely seen Elizabeth these past few weeks. This is good. She is staying out of my way and I am staying out of hers.
Tuesday, 15 March
George lost his papers in China. That is why he was in this trouble. It is strange. I do not know George and have never met George but I feel as though I know him.
Finally a response from the teacher. Yes he does remember George. He is not sure whether he can
leave his school post and travel to Sydney to identify George. Father has asked him to request permission and has also told him that the Chinese men will pay all expenses that he incurs with a bonus.
George should never have lost his papers. They are more precious than gold, really they are. He had an exemption certificate and he also had his church confirmation certificate with him—the teacher had written a letter to support this but still the officials want to have him identified face to face.
It is not long before I know I am to go to China. I will need papers. I better not lose my papers or I will not be permitted back into the country. I do not want to go.
Wednesday, 16 March
Elizabeth—it has been nothing for weeks and then all of a sudden today happens. I ignored her at first but it could not last. She told me about a Chinese man that was convicted of stealing, as if I already did not know. I had read the papers. She called all Chinese criminals ‘because it is in their blood. Chinese are born like that,’ she says. I know that she is just saying her father’s words but she cannot continue saying them around me and my family.
‘Oh you are so foolish Elizabeth. You think that all Chinese people are criminals or untouchable just because they are not like you. Criminals—you don’t know what you are talking about. Our mothers, their family, were free settlers with the first fleet. My father was a free man. He paid his way out here to come to this country to earn a living to support his family back home in China. No criminal blood.’ I could have been yelling to the boys at school or the men in the street, not just my cousin. I told her to think about her father’s family on the first fleet. They were convicts transported for stealing so if anyone has criminals in their blood then it had to be her. ‘You think that one of my kind, a convicted Chinese man, makes all Chinese people criminals. Well if so then if one of your kind is a criminal then all are criminals, including you.’
The Melting Pot Page 12
