The Melting Pot

by Christopher Cheng

  I remember some of the things he told us about the meeting. The Certificates of Domicile should be issued to all Chinese men who are of good character, who have not been in trouble with the law and who have good jobs.

  I think, like many of the businessmen, that if Chinese people have been working here for many years they should obtain the certificate too; not only storekeepers and businessmen but the market gardeners and the staff (some people call them servants) who have been working for European families. Some of the traders like Mr Chun don’t think these Chinese people are worthy enough to get certificates. If they are able to obtain references of their trustworthiness and abiding character (that’s the phrase Father keeps mentioning), so they should be able to get their certificate.

  Father is so fortunate that he was able to obtain his naturalisation certificate years ago. And we are fortunate that he did too, otherwise we would have even more trouble. How does the government treat children of Chinese fathers and Australian mothers I wonder?

  It would be good to be able to write in both Chinese and English. I should try harder.

  Tuesday, 3 November

  This morning Father rushed downstairs, past the dining table and straight into the office without greeting us at breakfast. He went straight into his office. He must have forgotten something. Mother rushed after him and dragged him back by his gown to the table. ‘Morning children,’ he offered. ‘Please excuse my lack of courtesy. Be good. Love your Mother. Enjoy school.’ He quickly hugged us all, placed sloppy kisses on our heads and went back into his office—all before we could eat our second mouthful.

  This afternoon I sat on the stool at the counter and listened. Father was reading his letter to Mother. But then Mother told Father that he forgot to write about men like him. Father was puzzled.

  ‘Chinese men who have already been naturalised. You are equal with the government officials and the rest of the people here. You, and Mr Lee and Mr Goh, should not go through the same procedure to procure the Certificates.’ Father slapped his forehead as he realised what he had forgotten to add. ‘Simply having naturalisation papers should be enough to permit clear passage to come and go as we please, just like any other person who is a British subject.’

  Father had to swear an oath of allegiance to the ruling monarch when he was naturalised. How many people born in this country have sworn an oath of allegiance to the monarch? Not many. Not Mother. Not Uncle I am certain.

  I heard Father read his final letter this afternoon. He read it to Mother and she said ‘perfect’. Father relaxed and they hugged and kissed. He writes wonderful letters does my Father. Maybe that is why I like writing too.

  Wednesday, 4 November

  I have a question. Why is it that Chinese people who have been employed here for years can not receive permission to re-enter the country when they return from visiting relatives or business, and why can people of other nationalities come and go freely?

  Why can’t children of these people born here travel freely? That was two questions.

  Thursday, 5 November

  I could throw my cousin in the water with a millstone, no, with a heavily-laden Chinese ginger jar chained around her ankles sometimes—no most times! She is so annoying. I wanted to leave her standing in the markets and head home alone.

  We had purchased the market goods as requested. I was carrying them all, she was carrying nothing. Still, I was telling her about how some Chinese travel to China and back and the problems that were happening. Suddenly the pleasantness changed. It became very nasty. Elizabeth yelled at me. She did not understand what I was saying. She could not understand why ‘you Chinese people’ should be permitted to travel back and forth to the ‘native land’ whenever required and still be a citizen of this country? ‘You should belong to one country or the other.’

  Calmly I explained that some Chinese have been here a long time and they need to see their aged parents and relatives out of respect for the family.

  ‘Their parents should come and live out here with them, them Chinas.’

  I was getting annoyed. I said that of course Chinese people would be pleased to bring their parents here if they were young enough to travel. Then they could show them how successful they have become. I even asked her whether she thought that she would be able to travel the oceans on choppy seas when she was 70 or 80 years old for weeks or even months.

  ‘Anyone can do that.’

  ‘How would you know? You have never even stepped on a boat. And besides, what about people from England who live here and who have family back in their native land. They travel over there to visit relatives and they have no trouble coming back here so why should it be any different for Chinese people?’

  ‘Because they were born here.’

  Now I was furious. I told her that it showed just how much she didn’t know. Surely she knows that not all of the Australian people were born here. Some of them are just like Father. They came out during the gold rush from England and Germany and France and even from America and they mined for gold too. They were not as successful as the Chinese miners. I told her that.

  ‘You talk such rot Eddie. How’d you know anyway? You weren’t even there.’

  We continued arguing. People were staring at us. I was shouting.

  ‘No, and neither were you but my father was. He was on the goldfields and he did very well. That is why we have our trading store now here near the wharfs. Where was your father?’

  ‘Not getting dirty and digging for gold that’s for sure. He grew up in the town.’

  We kept arguing for ages. I couldn’t persuade my cousin that Chinese men and women, of good character and solid community standing, who have lived and worked most of their lives in this land should be able to travel abroad just like any other person. And she certainly does not think that a naturalised person like my father, born in China, should have the same rights as her father, who was born here.

  When we arrived back at the house I left her standing in the kitchen with the groceries. I was so annoyed with her that I collected my ball, went outside and repeatedly threw it at the wall. And I caught it on the return nearly every time. By the time I came inside she was gone.

  Why was she even here today? It is not Sunday.

  Friday, 6 November

  ‘The men have been meeting all day,’ said Mother when I returned this afternoon. And the men were here. There must have been 15 or 20 of them. It is more to do with the Certificate. More applications for certificates have been refused.

  Father permitted me to listen to their discussions after I paid my respects to the gentlemen. That took ages. The men were trying to work out what the essential conditions are for obtaining the certificate. Some of the men thought that it would simply be living here for five years but Ah Lok joked that with this government it would more likely be 55 years. ‘This is not for joking,’ someone told him.

  Suggestions were offered for the essential conditions: could it be owning land or stores? Could it be stock holdings? Could it be marrying English women, ‘then you shall be fine Chek Chee.’ It was Ah Lok again.

  ‘Don’t be like children,’ interrupted Father. ‘This is not for joking. You know that we, who are naturalised, already are permitted a certificate should we desire. We are safe, but those newly arrived, those not made citizens, they are caught badly. What are the essential conditions for them to obtain the certificate?’

  ‘They have to prove that they live here,’ one responded.

  ‘Yes, but already we have written references and letters of recommendation for some and they were refused. Similar applications from others are accepted. There is no pattern. It is like lottery.’

  I did not hear the result of their discussion. Father requested I prepare cha for the men. When I returned they had decided another letter was required requesting clarification from the government asking what the essential conditions for issuing the certificates are.

  Mrs Lo was waiting to see Father. I talked to her for a
while but she had to leave. She instructed me to advise Father that she will return tomorrow on her day off. She too has problems but would not let me interrupt the men. She came to Australia with her father. He is dead. Now she has to go back to China to be with her dying mother but she too has been refused re-entry.

  Saturday, 7 November

  Mrs Lo returned today with all her papers. She also had a government letter. I saw it when I gathered the scattered papers that she dropped while wiping her eyes. She is staff for an important family; she has a great letter of reference.

  I broke a crate this afternoon. I had the ball and was bowling at the crate. I was fierce. It is the best set of wickets that I can find. I am not sure if I am bowling the right way. Maybe I could get the boys at school to show me … but they never let me play their game.

  Sunday, 8 November

  Peace. Elizabeth was not here today. Just our family went to church. That is why she was here last Thursday, to tell Mother. I enjoyed all of today.

  Monday, 9 November

  Happy birthday King Edward. (But the best Edwards have their birthdays on 10 April, or if I was using the lunar calendar then it would be 20 March. I should request two birthdays this year.)

  We had to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ at school. This is really silly. The king isn’t here. He did not even hear what we sang. This is just as well because some of the children are awful singers. All his subjects throughout the Commonwealth were singing.

  And one stupid boy announced when the teacher left the room, that my name was also Edward so that I must be the king they were singing to. He was bowing and asking me whether he would be receiving a knighthood. I was going to give him a knighthood with my bag; teacher saved him when she entered the room.

  I am named after King Edward, just like all of my brothers and sisters are named after members of the royal family. I do not know why my parents decided to do that.

  Thursday, 12 November

  The answer has come back from the government to the letter … and quickly too. The essential conditions for issuing the Certificate of Domicile are simply satisfactory evidence of domicile. To me that was no answer. It was a short reply. All the men are annoyed.

  Father could not believe such an undignified response. ‘We are not children,’ he announced. ‘They are being evasive so they can refuse entry for whatever reason they decide.’

  Ah Lok visited this afternoon to collect his cane that he left behind. He does not think that it is a bad response because naturalised Chinese can already acquire certificates so they are not affected. He was more worried that should many more Chinese be permitted entry then there will be an oversupply, costs will continue to rise and so too will competition.

  At first I did not recognise the voice. It belonged to Father. ‘You foolish man. Your thoughts are just as discriminatory as the policy established by the government. We are better than that. And what about families of those already here? Is that fair to them?’

  Friday, 13 November

  Father complained all afternoon. He knocked over jars and even miscalculated with the abacus. There will be more letters and meetings for sure. But what can the men do? If Father has to write more letters and attend more meetings, as many traders do, and if he gets involved with more translation then he will need me to supervise operations in the store. And then I will not have to go to China. Maybe this could be beneficial for me.

  Sunday, 15 November

  We didn’t attend our usual church. Father wanted us to attend the Chinese Presbyterian church in Wessex Street, even though we would have difficulty understanding what was occurring. He was right. When Reverend Soo Hoo Ten preached I could only recognise a few words. He spoke too fast. ‘That’s why you need to go to China,’ Mother commented.

  Even worse than not understanding the words and the songs was how I was feeling. I was sure every eye of every person was staring at me. Their stares were piercing my skin. I looked different to all the other people there. Not only because I was wearing my Sunday clothes. I didn’t see one boy like me. They all looked—Chinese. I am glad we do not come here every week.

  Attending church is good but I must go to a church where I can understand what is happening. But there was one good thing about attending the Chinese church—I did not see Elizabeth today. That surely is a blessing.

  Nearly everyone who lives around this church is Chinese. The houses nearby have Chinese decorations and additions to the house. I do think that I was too dressed up for this church.

  There are Australian people who do not go to church and lots of the people living around here do not go to church either. Some of them say they have no time to go to church. ‘These are the same men who can find sufficient time to gamble and smoke away their hard-earned money,’ said Father. He giggled too when he told us that some of the Chinese men complained that the Reverend should not be converting them. They tell him to work on the English people first and convert them.

  Maybe they are right. Chinese people might be treated better then. It is not just the Chinese men who are smoking the opium and gambling in the dens. There are many white people there too.

  Tuesday, 17 November

  On Yik was at the store this afternoon. He was crying. I brought him cha and oranges but nothing would ease his tears. He is naturalised like Father. He completed his application to bring his wife and family to Australia. But now the government has suspended entry of wives and children too. The laws keep changing. What about Elder Brother and Sister, they might not be allowed back home either. I know that I should not go to China. Maybe the laws will be changed. I too might be refused re-entry. I would have to stay in China.

  ‘The man is horrible,’ On Yik told us. He even told On Yik that he could have many wives like other Chinamen, his family in China and another family here. On Yik cried again when he told us that. Without his wife he feels very lonely. He too may close his business and return to China. I think Father will try to talk to someone about this but I think On Yik will be returning to China. Father would if it were him. On Yik’s family has never been here before, that is why they are refused entry.

  Sunday, 22 November

  It is Sunday, time for Elizabeth to come to our house. I should have remembered. I did not. Two weeks without seeing my horrid cousin was wonderful. I do not know why she follows me so. I am not a girl. Girls spend time with girls, boys spend time with boys. Not her. She persisted in following me wherever I went. I visited the water closet twice this afternoon just to be alone. The second time she was waiting outside for me.

  ‘You didn’t do much,’ she squawked.

  ‘What were you doing outside while I am in here?’ I screeched, surprised.

  ‘Just wanted to make sure that you weren’t ill. That’s twice since I been here.’

  I was not ill. I just need you away from me is what I wanted to say. I tried to convince her that she would find it more interesting pestering my sisters but she didn’t want to play with them. She picked up my ball from the washstand. I snatched it away and escaped to my room with a pile of books where I would not be interrupted. I locked the door.

  When she finally left later in the afternoon I mentioned to Mother that I think her family is using us; if we aren’t good enough to visit at their house why is it good enough for Elizabeth to visit us? Mother says that this is part of accepting families, the good and the bad and that just because Elizabeth’s family, (her father, says Mother), had negative feelings towards us that we should not be the same.

  Monday, 23 November

  Yesterday we argued about washstands too. Elizabeth has one similar to ours but she thinks that we should not have one. ‘Only the best people have this excellent furniture.’

  ‘What do you mean best people? And why wouldn’t my family own the same washstand?’

  ‘Oh don’t be stupid. Your washstand can’t be the same one as ours. Surely yours does not have bush carvings and a stamp on the back like ours. And I am sure that your mother, my s
illy aunt, did not buy hers at Farmers in the city. Or even David Jones. That’s where they sell them you know.’

  So then I took great pride in telling Elizabeth about the stamp. She did not know that the stamp showed that the excellent piece of furniture was made by a Chinese man. When I told her that we were not foolish enough to buy ours at the city department stores, wasting precious dollars, but that Father prefers to buy directly from the factory, it was her turn to become annoyed. She was not convinced. She even said that if it was of Chinese make then it must have been made under supervision of a decent cabinet maker.

  Not just a Chinaman were the actual words she used. It was strange I thought how furniture made by a Chinese cabinet maker like Ah Toy, who has been very, very successful and has his own factory and employs workers who are Chinese and non-Chinese, had to be stamped so that it would be distinguished from furniture made by other cabinet makers. Many houses in Sydney have Chinese-crafted furniture bought from city department stores, but many Chinese people bought the pieces straight from merchants or the cabinetmakers. It was cheaper that way.

  Father says that people complain about Chinese cabinetmakers producing cheap furniture but price is not the problem. Cheaper furniture can be imported from London. That is really cheap but I do notice that there is a problem with those pieces. People like Elizabeth’s family are just incensed by the Chinese furniture.