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F E A T U R E S
Gori
Southasiapost.org
presents here a sensitive story of young Canadian writer about her encounters
with multi cultureless. Pam Cooper writes, “On a phone chat line I met
Raj one day at a small restaurant in Surrey, Held his hand and within 5 hours
was making mad passionate love with him. He was 26 at the time and now 9
years later recently wed in Punjab. What I didn’t know at the time was
anything about the culture and asked why I was never brought home to meet his
parent’s or taken out any where by Raj and as I slowly began to understand
that I would never be accepted in his culture because of my divorced status, my
age, my colour, my children and my culture I became more and more determined to
conquer the dilemma.”
 I was born to
immigrant parents to Canada in 1965. Born and raised in British Columbia.
Growing up we had the same struggles as most first generation Canadians, no
Aunties and Uncles and Cousins or Grand Parents to sit and visit with, see or
relate too or call upon for help. My father held a menial job for many years as
my mother stayed home until we were all in grade school before women’s
liberation shouted she was no longer valued and she entered the work force.
My mother and father divorced some 28 years ago, and remarried the same year as
each other a few short 6 years later. It seems we were typical Canadians.
Things were as many 40 years older will tell you much simpler then.
We were educated
in school about the importance of Multi-Culturalism and that many people from
around the world should come to Canada where they can thrive and be happier and
wealthier and not go hungry.
As a child in my
elementary grades I was lead to believe that most people from India were
starving, with no money to purchase eating utensils so they ate with spoons and
their hands on the ground, with no tables and chairs. That they were force to
live in thatched huts and homes with no heat and electricity. That poor people
were being allowed to come to Canada and given more opportunity.
So the reality
seemed perfect that as I saw more and more persons of India come to BC, and so
as a culture we became angry. I grew up listening in my neighbourhoods to
people complaining that the “Rag Heads” were taking our jobs and that the
f---ing Hindu’s should go back to where they came from and stop staring at
girls.
All of a sudden
it seems more and more Santa Clauses wearing pajamas and Ski Coats in the summer
are popping up every where on street corners walking around in stores with noisy
children. Most likely filthy under their turbans creating lice and disease in
schools and owning smelly curry houses. Why do they have to eat so much Curry?
As I matured,
married and divorced all of a sudden single at 32 and 3 young children the East
Indian population had blossomed around me and a friend suggested I start dating
more.
On a phone chat
line I met Raj one day at a small restaurant in Surrey, Held his hand and within
5 hours was making mad passionate love with him. He was 26 at the time and now 9
years later recently wed in Punjab. What I didn’t know at the time was
anything about the culture and asked why I was never brought home to meet his
parent’s or taken out any where by Raj and as I slowly began to understand
that I would never be accepted in his culture because of my divorced status, my
age, my colour, my children and my culture I became more and more determined to
conquer the dilemma. As my friend ship circle grew and I found my self in the
company of more and more Punjabi men used for sex and becoming more depressed I
discovered that I had in their eye’s no real value and that most but not all
lied about their marital status to have the opportunity to join me in the
bedroom, to see the so precious white! I became more and more determined. And
now numb to the expectation of being dumped or ignored by way of my phone calls.
But as I watched outside of banquet halls at all the pretty ladies, all dressed
up and all the fancy expensive cars and all the drinking in the parking lot, I
realized that exclusion and racism existed on both sides of the equation not
just my side being white. And even, though perhaps, I had gone about things the
wrong way, trying to fit in, I was determined to one day be invited to the
lovely events.
You see I was
led to believe by Punjabi Media here in BC that I was racist by nature just for
being White. Something that local ethnic Punjabi Newspapers still claim today.
“Stupid white men” read the front page of one paper and another read “When
will the white’s ever learn” In deed when will I ever learn. What was it I
should learn again? Watching Air India un-fold, people cutting and hurting each
other and fighting over tables and chairs, buses of elderly being sent to pick
berries in extreme conditions and not suitable treated even from their own
people, what is it that I should learn?
I had one lover
a very favorite local Kabadii player who would take me places and people would
always come up and shake his hand and interrupt our meals, He tried to explain
to me he was, in fact, a popular sports man but I had no Idea even what Kabadi
meant at the time. His body was dark, perfect and fit and his heart made of
gold, one time I ran in to him at the mall and he even introduced me to his wife
and child. I learned to love the game going and watching him play. Not knowing
that as a woman I shouldn’t be present and stuck out even more so as white. So
after matches he would come over sore and scrapped and I would ease all his
aches and pains. He loved his sport so much and we tried to converse but you see
language to us really didn’t matter; the fact was he loved me and I loved him.
One day I worked up the courage to ask him to teach me some words in Punjabi. He
was so happy I wanted to learn I remember my first words Hanji and Nanji, Sus re
kal and counting to 10, and so since then I learn a word a week, and since
becoming close friends and business partners with my friend JB and other
partners that cared as much to teach me so now I am able to converse basically
and understand what people are in fact talking about. I take no formal lessons
but rather learn from friends and can tell you who taught me each word and
remember them when I am speaking.
So why is it
then that people call me Gori after they are told my name? White one, almost one
who lacks value or understanding in the ways of our people. My name is Pam I am
Canadian. His name is Deepa, he is south Asian, East Indian, Punjabi, Hindi,
etc., and why am I Gori? It matters. It matters to you how you are called and it
most matters to me. Stop the exclusion! I know what you are saying. And I wonder
how powerful it is to speak about people good and bad, right in front of them in
another language. I am starting a revolution of teaching Punjabi for free!
To any who want to learn and soon Ah HA! You will have to be aware! The field
will be fairer.
I don’t live
in a big house, drive a fancy car, wear fancy dresses or go to many banquets.
While an arranged marriage seems not so bad an idea, I don’t want to be
offered $30,000 for a paper marriage to your brother’s cousin’s nephew’s
son.
I sense an over
whelming desire on the part of the South Asian Community to be on top of all
others. And in turn, exclude others. For what ever reason you needed
to turn the tables it has almost been done.
My understanding
of Sikhism is that it is inclusive, now step up leaders of the South Asian
community and lead me to understanding; true understanding that runs as deep as
Sikhism, love compassion and understanding. Lead the community.
The South Asian
presence in BC is a strong one. Yet the community media still wines and cries as
if it was a minority. Would you mind treating us to an excellent politician and
community leader that can lead all people by example? Guide us now, all of us,
into harmony.
You will never
see a bus picking up Caucasian Senior Citizens at 6am to go and labour in fields
all the day. So why do we allow it to happen to our South Asian Seniors?
There is no such thing as “our community”, or your community, it is a
community! Also this just in “news flash” for all of you, Caucasian men beat
and kill their wives just as much as you do as a matter of fact this has been
done for centuries. There is no original sin or sinners just people, but how we
handle the situations is what set’s us a part. From the out side looking in,
trying to get in, I would say that men, need to hold men accountable for what
they do, no matter the race. Further, why create the situation you just left?
True thus is human nature for all of us to follow the path of least resistance.
None the less, the reality of all un lawful situations and miss treatments lie
on the individuals them selves, not the police, government or society. We should
support each other, not point fingers and play the blame game.
If things were
so bad back home, why do you strive to create such a society here in Canada? If
things are so bad here, why don’t people go back? I here most often it is
because of the lawlessness? So create it here so there is no need to travel? If
things are so bad here, why do people stay?
How can I work
with out a SIN number, how do I get that desire, cash job only please. How do I
get away with paying no over time, less than minimum wage, no WCB and even more
infractions? Where does the desire come from to beat the system and collect ICBC,
WCB and Social Assistance? Who put’s the money in to begin with. We the people
are the government. Multi Culturalism does mean more than one culture!
So hence all
this venting leads me to Punglish. Welcome to Punglish, a serious and light look
at the inter mingling of brown and white making a Punglish society that will
soon take over. Are you ready for Punglish?
Next time on
Punglish!
Why does Canada
insist on having Doctors as Cab Drivers? So they can deliver more babies along
the way? Don’t get me started on recognizing foreign designations and
educations.
[We shall
appreciate comments from the readers and if they wish to narrate their stories,
they are more than welcome. Editors]
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With Compliments
from
Gogi Sidhu
President
Satish K. Jain
Executive Vice President
1301, Mahalo Place, Rancho Dominguez , CA 90220 U.S.A.
http://www.magnespec.com
Phone:- 0013106032262
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