but hard work. Maybe yours will be different, who knows? But if you work hard, for certain your children will have something better.”
Hua Fan couldn’t believe his ears. He wanted to scream,
No! I have no intention of staying! Don’t you understand how much I hate it here. I’m not like you. I don’t want to be like you! I need to go home
. But he felt as if his vocal chords had been slashed, dangling uselessly inside his throat. All along he had assumed that he would be the one to return. It had never occurred to him that Elder Uncle might also want to go back. The old man seemed so adjusted to life in
Gam Sun
, to being an outsider.
Elder Uncle pleaded, “Don’t you see? If I don’t go back now, it might be too late?”
Hua Fan’s lips felt dry as he opened his mouth and swallowed another spoonful of soup. He looked at the rows of wooden troughs along one wall, the stacks of bamboo baskets in a corner. In the middle of the wooden floor stood the washing machine, a looming, silent water buffalo, a sentry standing on guard, preventing escape. As he looked again at Elder Uncle, Hua Fan saw no hint of triumph. Instead he saw a bottomless depth of sadness. For the first time he saw the heavy lines in the old man’s face, the mouth set in a line of grim resignation, the sagging corners of the eyes with a tiny flicker of hope. His heart wrenched; surrendering, he understood Elder Uncle’s loneliness in this land of strangers, his silent dream of returning home to rest, to die.
“Yes, Elder Uncle,” Hua Fan swallowed. “I see.”
Cold Food
ACCORDING TO MAY-YEN Lum, all the illnesses of the Western world could be traced to the consumption of cold food. But whenever she said to her daughter, “You shouldn’t eat so much cold food. You know, ice cream, potato salad. Very bad. Very hard to digest. Sit in the bottom of your stomach. Turn to mould,” Su looked at her and smiled dismissively. Even when May-Yen shouted after her, “Oh, I know, just because you’re young and strong now. You can fight those bad effects. You just wait until you’re older. Then you’ll know.” Su still didn’t really listen.
May-Yen was sitting in the living room of the apartment that she shared with her stepson, Kenny Lum, and his family. It was above his restaurant, the Lucky Star. Her daughter, Su, was sitting across from her on a gold vinyl stool, their knees just touching. Su spoke slowly with careful concern as she leaned toward her mother and stroked her hand, feeling the swollen, arthritic joints. The conversation had already beenrepeated several times. “Mah, try not to worry too much about the cancer in your breast. The doctor said it hasn’t spread. He can cut it out and that will probably be it.” Secretly, Su was hoping, “If I can just move her along, with any luck I’ll get home with enough time to finish Jason’s psychological assessment.” Jason, the frustratingly bright kid who was in grade four and could barely read.
May-Yen looked at her daughter. The soothing tone of her voice, her eyes overflowing with understanding when she didn’t really understand, was so frustrating. May-Yen knew that she should be grateful that her daughter spoke English so well and was so willing to look after her needs at the hospital. But she just couldn’t help being annoyed with Su, who was so confident of the
lo fon
doctors, with her daughter who had such faith in
lo fon
medicine. “It’s not cancer, you know. The doctors here don’t know.”
“What are you saying?”
“I know what’s really wrong. My body is mouldy inside. It’s from eating all that
lo fon
food, that Canadian food, especially the cold stuff, you know, ice cream, cold meat, potato salad.… ”
“Mah, I really think you should listen to the doctor. He knows.… ”
“Dock-tah! Dock-tah! What does he know? I know. I haven’t been careful enough. And now I’m all mouldy inside.”
Su took a deep breath and patted her mother’s hand
Hua Fan couldn’t believe his ears. He wanted to scream,
No! I have no intention of staying! Don’t you understand how much I hate it here. I’m not like you. I don’t want to be like you! I need to go home
. But he felt as if his vocal chords had been slashed, dangling uselessly inside his throat. All along he had assumed that he would be the one to return. It had never occurred to him that Elder Uncle might also want to go back. The old man seemed so adjusted to life in
Gam Sun
, to being an outsider.
Elder Uncle pleaded, “Don’t you see? If I don’t go back now, it might be too late?”
Hua Fan’s lips felt dry as he opened his mouth and swallowed another spoonful of soup. He looked at the rows of wooden troughs along one wall, the stacks of bamboo baskets in a corner. In the middle of the wooden floor stood the washing machine, a looming, silent water buffalo, a sentry standing on guard, preventing escape. As he looked again at Elder Uncle, Hua Fan saw no hint of triumph. Instead he saw a bottomless depth of sadness. For the first time he saw the heavy lines in the old man’s face, the mouth set in a line of grim resignation, the sagging corners of the eyes with a tiny flicker of hope. His heart wrenched; surrendering, he understood Elder Uncle’s loneliness in this land of strangers, his silent dream of returning home to rest, to die.
“Yes, Elder Uncle,” Hua Fan swallowed. “I see.”
Cold Food
ACCORDING TO MAY-YEN Lum, all the illnesses of the Western world could be traced to the consumption of cold food. But whenever she said to her daughter, “You shouldn’t eat so much cold food. You know, ice cream, potato salad. Very bad. Very hard to digest. Sit in the bottom of your stomach. Turn to mould,” Su looked at her and smiled dismissively. Even when May-Yen shouted after her, “Oh, I know, just because you’re young and strong now. You can fight those bad effects. You just wait until you’re older. Then you’ll know.” Su still didn’t really listen.
May-Yen was sitting in the living room of the apartment that she shared with her stepson, Kenny Lum, and his family. It was above his restaurant, the Lucky Star. Her daughter, Su, was sitting across from her on a gold vinyl stool, their knees just touching. Su spoke slowly with careful concern as she leaned toward her mother and stroked her hand, feeling the swollen, arthritic joints. The conversation had already beenrepeated several times. “Mah, try not to worry too much about the cancer in your breast. The doctor said it hasn’t spread. He can cut it out and that will probably be it.” Secretly, Su was hoping, “If I can just move her along, with any luck I’ll get home with enough time to finish Jason’s psychological assessment.” Jason, the frustratingly bright kid who was in grade four and could barely read.
May-Yen looked at her daughter. The soothing tone of her voice, her eyes overflowing with understanding when she didn’t really understand, was so frustrating. May-Yen knew that she should be grateful that her daughter spoke English so well and was so willing to look after her needs at the hospital. But she just couldn’t help being annoyed with Su, who was so confident of the
lo fon
doctors, with her daughter who had such faith in
lo fon
medicine. “It’s not cancer, you know. The doctors here don’t know.”
“What are you saying?”
“I know what’s really wrong. My body is mouldy inside. It’s from eating all that
lo fon
food, that Canadian food, especially the cold stuff, you know, ice cream, cold meat, potato salad.… ”
“Mah, I really think you should listen to the doctor. He knows.… ”
“Dock-tah! Dock-tah! What does he know? I know. I haven’t been careful enough. And now I’m all mouldy inside.”
Su took a deep breath and patted her mother’s hand
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