Jessie’s Journal From China to Canada
Poems by Jessie Zhang
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Poems by Jessie Zhang
Issuu Publishing
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Copyright©2015 by Jessie Zhang
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Contents
Acknowledgements……………………..4
Landscape……………………………..… 5
Greeting…………………………………. 6
Eye Contact…………………………..…. 7
Homophone……………………….….…11
Pronunciation……………….….……….12
Belonging………………………………..13
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acknowledgements
Thanks to family and friends for the support—
Douglas, Naylor and Zoey, Naylor,
Wayne Krushelnisky.
Thanks to my CREW311 classmates.
Thanks to my instructor Jay Ruzesky.
Thanks to John Hill and John Lepage.
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Landscape
When I first came
People asked me
How I felt about
Canada. I said,
Fresh air, friendly Canadians
What about the landscape?
I said,
The pictures of Canada in
the magazines , TV and movies
are not what I saw in Richmond
Yet, it awoke in me a desire
to explore
Driving from Vancouver
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to Whistler
I looked outside
the snowy Grouse Mountain
The Giant pine trees and
the vast Pacific Ocean
Especially the single houses
The beckoning walk ways
With their enchanting gardens
Shadowed by trees that
changed color through seasons
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Greeting
Come on, my husband won’t bite you,
A lady says as she demonstrates
a hug.
I stand in front of them,
Even as I just observe it
I feel embarrassed
Sorry, I mumble that I can’t
But maybe I’ll try next time
The giggles from a big crowd
Shift through my ears
I notice that a Canadian
Hug is just a way of
Greeting one another
Sometimes it’s so different
A gentleman gives my hand
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a kiss and I flash my hand
away. Yes, instantly
A French man kisses
both my cheeks.
My knees shake like
a leaf in the wind
Among the chuckles the lady asks,
So what do you do when you greet
your friends in China?
Well, we often shake hands, I reply
A hug usually happens in
a relationship of love and
it is taboo to hug in
a public place.
A teasing smile on her face,
But here in Canada,
People hug everywhere
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My mum is a big hugger
So I get a lot of hugs, she says.
At a party, her arms dangling
around her husband’s neck,
she says, this is the warmest hug.
Her husband lifts her in the air
and she struggles for a landing
Ha ha, it’s my turn to laugh,
You can’t fool me
I know how to perform
a proper hug:
Like toddlers
who open their arms
as they see a smiling face
their hugs
have crossed countries
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Eye Contact
The last time I used direct
eye contact was in China.
A city to city bus dropped off
our tourists at a strange restaurant
on the side of the highway
The driver locked the bus door
and suggested that we would
all have a meal at the restaurant
We were all reluctant
A man who turned to be the owner
barked aggressively at me
Why don’t you get inside?
I stood still, stared at him,
eye to eye, like a dragon
spurting fire
sorry, I don’t need it
He backed off
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When I grew up
the respectful way to listen
to people was to lower my head
and look down to the ground
It was almost a symbol
of showing one’s sincerity
by maximizing the hearing of
my ears.
We have a sound conversation
You, my Canadian friend
once irritated by my absence
of eye contact.
You raise your voice
and hold my shoulder say
Look at me
I’m talking to you
Are you paying attention?
“Of course I am,” I answer.
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But you didn’t look at me
Was I talking nonsense?
“No, I respect you and I’m
listening with my ears open
In my culture, it is impolite
to look directly into your eyes.”
Okay, let me show you
The Canadian way.
You point your two fingers
From your nose to my nose
and say, Are you a thief?
Most Canadian thieves
make no eye contact when police
Ask them questions, but it is rude
To talk to someone you know
Without any eye contact
Now I get your point
My helpful Canadian friend
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for the rest of our conversation
I start to adopt your custom
Oh, my goodness
I have never looked at
a man’s face so intently
Your blue eyes
look like double mini-cornflowers
I wonder if your prominent nose
came from a family from
Europe or Israel
You have dimples as you smile
and your lips move as fast as
a machine gun
Obviously, you have
A dynamic expression
Pardon, what did you say?
“I’m supposed to just look into
your eyes, okay, breathe
here I go
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I remember someone said
That an eye is a window to
the soul; and you, my friend
Have a such a good soul
I shall
look into your eyes as I
read your mind.”
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Homophone
Sparkling eyes, smiling face
Your soft voice spreads an invitation
for a discussion at the ESLA class
You say let’s ‘Brain Storm’
I hear ‘Bring Stone’ as I watch you
Jotting down the word education
The moment you raise your hand
in the air holding a marking pen
Against the white board
My mind buzzes with puzzles
Not sure if the ‘Bring Stone’ is
a metaphor or your interpretation
I guess whoever brings a word
shall evoke a strong and solid idea
like a rock
I keep my mouth shut, but my mind
reaches the highest peak of perplexity
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Pronunciation
Hi, I’ve seen you walk around
You are my ‘Neighbour’
I am in a jubilant mood
My voice floats on a pleasant
melody as I say hello to
You, but you stare at me
with a confuse look, you say
I am not your ‘ Laborer’
Wrinkles climb to your high
forehead and I say
“please forgive me and I’d like to
get things straightened out”
You say, Neighbor not Laborer
Repeat after me
and I have no idea what
the differences are
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Belonging
This is how I feel
a sense of belonging:
In the community library,
she says
We would love to have you join us
We have an annual event for
remembering
the miners who once
worked on Protection Island,
Some were Chinese during the
nineteen century
I realize
that there was a Chinese community
one hundred and fifty years ago
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This is how I feel
a sense of belonging:
at the community garden,
he says,
we welcome you to
our garden group.
We plant herbs,
vegetables and flowers
Maybe you can tell us about the Suyo
The seeds have been growing well
I recognize
that Suyo is the Chinese
long cucumber
“Sure,” I nod my head
like a drummer
This is how I feel
a sense of belonging:
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A letter from the
Protection Lions Club
that says,
You are invited to join us
for helping people in need
and creating a better community
I see the spirit of Lei Feng that
spreads
the supportive neighborhoods
all around the world
My response:
“Definitely, I am in.”
This is how I feel a sense of belong:
At the Power Squadron meeting,
She says,
We all have dreams about boats.
Not everyone sails around the world,
but we can share our boating experience
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You don’t have to go to
the North Pole to know
what it looks like, and the guest
speaker will take you on his journey
Yes, if I bring the illustration
of a coast of China and
if each of us can share just one place, we will cover the
whole world
This is how I feel
a sense of belonging:
at the Ukulele Circle,
as the leading singer of
Sisters Are Soul mates
She sings.
More than twenty smiling faces
holding the ukuleles in their hands
I hum a Chinese song
in the same melody
that music has crossed cultures
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When they ask me how I feel
I say that I’m one of your sisters
This is how I feel
a sense of belonging:
at the Tai Chi Club,
the hand movements
travel across cultures
The master says,
We would love to have you
in our class
I bring my traditional style while
learning a new interpretation.
Something that is more than
just sharing the same interests.
I am one of many
Seeking well-being
This is how I feel
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a sense of belonging:
at VIU’s Creative Writing Program,
my peers
are just like me
They appreciate
the beauty of language.
The translation of my Chinese
adds flavor to my broken English
I strive to be one of
the decent writers
This is how I feel
a sense of belonging:
When strangers say
Isn’t it a privilege that always
nice and warm here in B.C?
When my friends say
May I have your thoughts?
When my husband says
Are your ready for dinner?
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Afterward
The collection of short poems from a personal memoir
describes Jessie’s experience as a middle-aged Chinese
woman having immigrated to Canada in 2009. Seeking a
sense of belonging, she misunderstood customs,
experienced the embarrassments of social activities, the
struggles of language studies towards the final fit into the
new country.
Jessie Zhang is a student from the Vancouver Island
University. She lives in Nanaimo, B.C with her husband.
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