How can Uncle accept them, when they attack us and burn down our tents and steal our gold? I don’t know if I can accept them.
Monday, April 1
I had my photograph taken today! My face and my body, they are on card for everyone to see. I am going to be famous. I am going to London—at least, my picture is. A photographic person has come to the goldfields, and it is a lady, Mrs Reid. She is taking pictures of the miners and the mining. But not just the white miners. She is taking pictures of Chinese, too, and sending these to London. Uncle said that it was very good that we are included. It will show that the Chinese are of great importance in establishing not only the goldfields here in the Flat, but also life here in New Gold Mountain.
The photo lady came to our tent and insisted that I wear only my Chinese clothes. ‘Are those the clothes you normally wear?’ she questioned very slowly to make sure that I understood, which was quite stupid. Jeremy never slows down when he speaks to me. If I don’t understand what he tells me, then he repeats the words a little slower—but never so slow that you almost could take a breath between each word. ‘You must wear your jacket and the hat too. Is this the job you usually do? Don’t you dig in the mines as well?’
My speaking English is getting better, just like my writing English, thanks to my talks with Mr Henley, my meetings with Jeremy and from writing the letters for the Big-Noses (I say the words each time that I write them). So I think that she was very surprised when she heard me tell her that I don’t mine for gold. ‘This is where I spend much of my time, writing letters for miners who can’t write,’ I said, ‘and not just Chinese miners either.’ I had to repeat myself a few times to makes sure that she got the right words. I saw that Uncle had a small smile on his face. He was pretending to be organising other matters but I am sure that he was listening.
I showed the lady our temple and also Mr Fung’s garden. I told her that not just Chinese eat Mr Fung’s vegetables. She took a photo of him ladling the special water onto the vegetables. I told her that another of my jobs is to collect this water for Mr Fung when it is low. I didn’t answer her when she asked me how I transport the water from the dam to Mr Fung’s barrels. It’s better she doesn’t know where the special water comes from.
Tuesday, April 2
Today, I found out that Jeremy had asked his father why white miners act the way they do to Chinese miners and about some of the names. He already told me many of the reasons for the behaviour, but I think that he wanted to make sure, to see if his father was like those hating miners. When he asked, his father flew into a wild rage. Jeremy was then forbidden to mention the word ‘Chinese’ and to play with the other boys if they go anywhere near the ‘celestials’. To make sure that he remembered what he was told, Jeremy’s father struck him, hard. He would not show me the back of his legs, but I could see the deep bruises that were on his arms. Jeremy must like me if he is defying his father to come and teach me jacks. Why does a father who should love his son beat him this way?
Wednesday, April 3
We dig in peace but they don’t treat us equally, this Commissioner and the troopers. Chinese are told that we can only mine at Blackguard Gully. This is where we are to dig and mine and wash and dry. Nowhere else. So we build water troughs and dams and pug mills, and we work together. But then when the other miners hear that we are finding pieces of gold, what do they do? They come and mine in our Gully, on our territory. They try to take over part of our land. But when we go past the boundary lines, we are forced back. This is not right. Uncle has told all Chinese that we are to stay here in the Gully. He has been assured by the Commissioner that things will remain peaceful if we do, but this does not seem stop the Big-Nose miners from entering our Gully.
Thursday, April 4
Jeremy and I met again today. Now I know how to play marbles. But before I learnt marbles (which I am not very proficient at), we talked. Jeremy asked me about China. He was amazed when I told him that I know of my relatives from many generations ago; that back in my village we have a joss house for praying to the gods, just like Europeans have churches to pray to their god; and that in our houses we have altars for remembering our ancestors. Jeremy could not tell me about his Goong Goong or Paw Paw. He could not understand about praying to many gods, so I asked him how one god could handle all the matters of living a successful and fulfilling life. He did not answer, so I told him about Chinese gods.
‘We have a god for wealth, a goddess for protection from injustices, a goddess of mercy, and many more. Especially important here in New Gold Mountain are the gods for health, safety, good fortune. They are watching over us, because we are far away from home. Although sometimes I think that with the treatment that we Chinese are receiving from your people we need more gods to help us. Maybe we should burn more joss sticks and money for the gods.’
‘Next time if you have to burn money, give it to me. You are crazy, burning money,’ he said.
I explained that this money is not real, it is paper money. We Chinese are not that silly.
I could understand Jeremy’s confusion about my beautiful China. I am confused about this land, New Gold Mountain, and I certainly am confused about the white people here who have so much hatred and dislike for us. But if I was not here, I would never have seen the amazing animals of the land and sky, the strange and wiry and ghostly trees that grow from the soil, or even the tents that we live in now.
I was happy to tell Jeremy about my home, my land, and my people. But I couldn’t wait to play marbles.
He drew a circle in the dirt with a stick. The marbles were all inside it, except for his two largest marbles, Big Blue and Red Eye. He said, ‘You can go first,’ and handed me Big Blue. I said, ‘What do I do?’ and he looked stunned.
‘Don’t you people know how to play marbles? Everyone knows how to play marbles.’
Then, with Big Blue resting in the crook of his thumb and first finger, Jeremy flicked it at the smaller marbles lying within the circle, and the marbles that were knocked out of the circle became his. When it was my turn I had trouble just supporting the marble on my thumb. When I flicked it, the marble went shooting through the air and it took us five minutes to find it again. Jeremy was not very pleased.
‘That’s my most precious marble. That’s the one that I use to win all my marbles. And you nearly lost it on me. Here, you use Red Eye,’ he said handing me the other big marble (but it was not as big as Big Blue).
He taught me then how to flick the marble. He is very patient, Jeremy, because it took me a long while to balance the marble in the shooting position and then it took even longer to fire the marble so that it landed in the circle. The first time that I landed the marble in the circle, I was ecstatic. I wanted to stop there. But that was just the first part—today’s lesson would end when I could land Red Eye in the circle and hit another marble. But that didn’t take long. The very next attempt I knocked two marbles out of the circle! But I didn’t get to keep them.
‘You gotta bring some marbles to win some. But we can keep practising, then maybe I will lend you Red Eye so you can win some marbles of your own.’
‘That was so fun. Thank you for teaching me’ I said, kowtowing.
Friday, April 5
A day of tilling soil, writing letters and notes and running errands. I also spent time with Mr McCulloch Henley, when he came here to discuss issues with Uncle and the Bosses. We talked about his life in other goldfields, how he learnt to write and speak Chinese, and his life in China for eleven years.
I did not believe that a Big-Nose would spend so long with Chinese people. I have heard of Big-Noses in China, but none ever visited my village. Mr McCulloch Henley must have spent a long time in China, for he knows his Chinese very well and he knows about ancestors and the joss houses—and he even knows how to play fan-tan.
‘How long does it take to get to Sydney, Mr McCulloch Henley, by the new coach line?’ I asked.
‘Through Cowra and Bathurst, three and a half days
with no night travelling. Yes, it’s surprising that it is so fast. But it costs a few pounds, so it won’t be for everyone. You’re not thinking of doing anything silly are you, like catching a coach to Sydney?’
And that was the end of the conversation. It was silly of me to even ask that question. He will surely inform Uncle.
Saturday, April 6
Today, I walked with Uncle and Mr McCulloch Henley to visit the Commissioner. But we didn’t walk alone. There were about three hundred of us from different fields, all together as one. Uncle looked very refined and important, wearing his long, shining silk robes, and his cap and sandals. He made sure that I was clean and well presented in my silk gown and cap, too. This was a very important meeting, and so it was important to wear our best clothes; he says this demonstrates respect—but also authority. Some men wore their mining clothes, but many of us were proud to walk as Chinese.
We wanted the Commissioner to listen to us and allow us to move to other fields where there is more water. Our water supply is very low, and the Bosses don’t think that we can survive here in the Gully. Does the Commissioner not realise that we could even die because we have so little water?
We walked from the Gully through the town. This is much easier to do now, but it is still scary, even though we shop there. Sometimes I feel as though the miners want to attack us still, but at least today with so many Chinese together I felt very safe. Not much has changed since I was last in town. The people in the town, they were surprised to see so many Chinese. Many heads turned and watched us walking, and some groups of people even stood aside, allowing us to walk through.
The Commissioner listened to us. We left. We are still here at Blackguard Gully and we are not moving.
Tuesday, April 9
A trooper fell from his horse today and died. A white miner told Uncle when he was writing a letter for him this afternoon. Uncle doesn’t write English as well as he writes Chinese, yet these miners still come to him to write their letters. Maybe they are spies checking up on us. I wonder if Uncle has thought of that.
Uncle said, ‘The trooper was a good man. He was important, too, so he will have a lavish funeral. People will come from all around the area to attend.’ Uncle told me that their funerals were similar to our burial ceremonies. They have a service with their religious man, and then they bury the dead man in the ground. Sometimes they take him to his own town first. I wish I could have taken Baba back to the village.
Sometimes, after the funeral, they have a party to celebrate the dead man’s life. Sometimes they take his gold. Uncle says that this is wrong. The gold belongs to the family. That is why when a Chinese miner dies his gold is sent back to China. Uncle takes care of that.
This afternoon I was working in Mr Fung’s garden, when a Big-Nose miner began to scream at him after buying his vegetables. ‘You’re robbing us blind for these vegetables! They’ve probably got poison in them, and you Chinese, not only do you waste water to mine for gold, but you waste water to grow vegetables!’ He was really furious.
Mr Fung just bowed his head and laughed so that the man didn’t hear him. ‘If he knew where the water comes from to grow my vegetables, then he might know how they are so good,’ he told me quietly. That miner is so silly not to realise where that water comes from!
Mr Fung laughed as he said, ‘I charge the miners over there more gold than I charge Chinese, you know. Back home in China I sold vegetables in the markets, just like I sell the vegetables here. I tell you a secret that you no tell anyone. I am not going back to China.’ When he has saved enough gold from selling his vegetables here, Mr Fung is going to Sydney Town to sell vegetables there. ‘Lots more people in the city, so lots more vegetables need to grow. Maybe you come too. You can help me, but you no tell Uncle.’ I stopped ladling the water onto the plants. I was stunned. Did I hear him correctly? Was Mr Fung really inviting me to go with him? I wanted to ask him when, but already he had turned his back and was humming. He never likes being disturbed while he is humming. I will ask him more later.
Wednesday, April 10
Jeremy and I played marbles and jacks again. No telling lies. I lost both games. ‘Next time I will teach you a Chinese game. It is much harder than marbles. Do you think you can learn it?’
‘Of course,’ retorted Jeremy. ‘Just you wait—I’ll show you!’
Thursday, April 11
Did Chin Yee see me at the trees with Jeremy today? I do not think so, but Jeremy and I were there playing marbles and he walked past with some of his team. If he had seen me, he would be screaming and shouting at me by now and Uncle would soon know and be very offended that I have disobeyed his directions. ‘You show lack of respect for your elders, Shu Cheong,’ he would say.
What can I say to reason with Uncle? I have been forbidden to go out alone, yes. I am seen with a European boy, yes. But lack of respect? No. Don’t they realise that Jeremy is not like the Big-Noses? He is a boy and he is like me and he is my friend. I will tell the Bosses and Uncle that I am doing what he says we all should do: I am trying to live up to his example, to make peace with the miners, and to live with them. He keeps telling us that not all Big-Noses are bad.
Tonight I have not been shouted at, and no-one has forbidden me to leave the Gully. Maybe Boss Chin Yee did not see me.
Friday, April 12
Uncle was right about a lavish ceremony for the trooper. They had it today. I think that he must have been a very, very important man, one of the most important men in all of New Gold Mountain (after the Gold Commissioner). Many people I have never seen, dressed in fine clothes with frilly hats and jackets and shining shoes, were there. They must have come from other places to be at the funeral. Soldiers and troopers were all dressed in clean, sparkling uniforms. Their boots were shiny and the buckles and buttons sparkled in the sunlight. Lots of the miners were there too, dressed in the clothes that they wear on Sundays. They formed two lines, and the horse-drawn carriage with the body walked slowly between them. A band was playing, and they all marched very, very slowly to the beat of the big drum. Women were crying and everyone else was standing quietly. The soldiers fired guns. Uncle didn’t know why they fired guns, but I think that maybe it was to clear the way for the spirit of the dead man as he enters the spirit world, to scare away the evil spirits just like we let off firecrackers.
‘Upon roots of the tree rest falling leaves,’ said Uncle when I asked him why sometimes Chinese bodies are taken back to China. When I looked puzzled, Uncle continued. ‘You know that we Chinese believe that the best place for us to be buried is in our home village, alongside the graves of our ancestors. That way the family can continue to look after us. When you have enough gold, we will send you back with your father’s bones.’
‘But what if I don’t go back to China, Uncle? What will happen then?’ I asked.
‘Then, your father’s bones stay here, and it is your job to look after his spirit. You must make the offerings: the food, the paper money, and the incense, to help his spirit in the next world. Soon we will celebrate Ch’ing Ming, and, even though we have no graves to tend here in our Gully, we will make offerings to our ancestors. Paying respect like this is important part of Chinese tradition.’
I remember back in our village we presented offerings to our ancestors and we tended the graves. How can I do that here? Baba is far away.
I practised words, wrote letters, worked in the garden, and didn’t leave the Gully today. Sometimes I think that every Chinese eye here is watching me.
Saturday, April 13
Some of the men are getting frustrated that they are not finding enough gold. I did not notice at first, but quite a few tents are gone and not as many Chinese are here. Uncle says that we will stay, as will Mr Fung, because this is the place where we have set ourselves and we should be left unharmed by the Big-Nose miners.
It is not easy for Mr Fung to travel from one goldfield to another. The vegetables won’t have time to grow. At least if he stays in the Gully eve
ryone will know where he is and be able to get the food they need. Most of the miners are not too far away.
Uncle still has many letters to write, and someone is always needing him to consult the Almanac for advice. When one of the Chinese miners died, his companions came to Uncle and asked him when would be the most auspicious time to bury the body. Uncle had to know the exact time of death so that he could consult the Almanac to find out when the ceremony should be held.
I wanted to get to the tree today, but Uncle didn’t need me to run any messages and I was never alone. I hope Jeremy has been leaving some stones for me.
Monday, April 15
Four days, and still they are watching me. I am sure that Boss Chin Yee saw me. He must have told Uncle of seeing me with Jeremy, otherwise why do I always feel as though I am being watched? But maybe I am going mad—Uncle would surely have disciplined me for disobeying if he knew. I remained here all day.
Wednesday, April 17
I was able to leave camp today. No-one was watching me as I pretended to be inside our tent resting, so I lifted the back wall of the tent, stuck my head outside to check that no-one was there, and slid outside. Uncle was too busy attending to matters with the Bosses to know; he would be occupied for more than an hour. If I am caught I will tell Uncle that I went to collect supplies from Mr Fung. I feel very upset that I have deceived Uncle so, but I wanted to see Jeremy—and today I finally won a game of jacks! He beat me at marbles but I beat him at jacks. Now, as I write these words, I am wondering: did I really beat him (he didn’t catch any on the back of his hand), or did he let me win for some reason?
New Gold Mountain Page 10
