My First Encounter of Edmonton. by Jimmy Gin, Immigrant from China in 1950
Date: 2 November 1950
November 2, 1950 was an unforgettable day for me. I was bound for a trip to meet my dad for the first time in my life and I would be living in a new Country called Canada.
The thought of seeing my dad was the greatest excitement in my life. He was my hero. I had only seen him in photographs. He was a handsome man, very kind-looking and always had a smile on his face. He always sent money home and I always get a present. I could not wait to see him and tell him how much I wanted to be with him.
I thought, my dad must be a rich man. He sent me an airplane ticket to fly to Canada to see him. On November 2, 1950, I was all dressed up and looking like a smart 18-year old. I got into the airplane and started my journey to my new home! It was a long 20-hour journey that flew half way around the world before reaching the sky of Edmonton.
Looking from the window of the airplane, I saw Edmonton as the plane was descending. Oh no, it was not what I had expected. Everything looked white and the houses looked small and scattered across the plain. I remembered dad talked about snow in Canada but I had never expected a scene like this. Would it be very cold out there? How would I move around in this snow-filled land? I had never seen real snow in my life. I couldn't wait to touch it. While there were not too many people in my home village, I went to boarding school in Canton (now Guangzhou) and was used to having a sea of people around me. Where were the people in Edmonton? I could not wait to see my dad and ask him all these questions.
The plane landed. I went through immigration quite smoothly and felt very relieved. I had always dreaded the thought of being asked any questions because I could not speak English. Now other worries went through me. Would my dad recognize me? Would I be able to recognize my dad from those photos I saw?
As soon as I got out, I heard a man's voice calling my name. It was an unfamiliar voice but I recognized the face right away. Yes, it was my dad!
He had a big smile on his face. He said he came with his travel agent to pick me up. They helped me picked up my luggage and I was hurried into a taxi. We stopped in front of the Ling Nam Restaurant. My dad said, "This is Chinatown, Let's get some Chinese food. You must be hungry." I was not really very hungry, but I really missed Chinese food. For the last 20 hours, I was served western food on the plane.
My Chinese meal was great! After that, my dad took me to our home. It was a small apartment along Jasper Avenue. The apartment building looked big and nice from the outside. As soon as I walked into my dad's apartment, I realized that it only had one kitchen/living area and one room. Where would I sleep? I did not dare to ask. When night came, I slept on the sofa. For the next 2 months, I slept on the sofa of my dad's apartment. It did not bother me at all. I was just happy to be with dad although some nights I would miss my mom.
I soon found myself working in our relative's restaurant, the Nu Way Café (now a bar called Blue Danube across from the Strathcona Hotel by 103 Street and 82 nd Avenue) when he was ill in the hospital and needed someone to work in his place. I was a cashier. I enjoyed meeting people and while I didn't know English, my sign language was good and I could read the numbers on the bill. I felt the need to learn the language in this new home Country. In 1951, my dad sent me to Alberta College to learn English on a part time basis. I went to school 5 days a week for two hours every day. I felt good about it as I gradually picked up some useful vocabularies.
I became quite active in the Chinese community. I joined the Chinese Benevolent Association and served as the Honorary Secretary. I got quite involved in helping other members of the Chinese community. The Health Care System was not very good in those days. Many of our community people owed the hospital and funeral homes lots of money. The hospital and funeral homes would come to our Association and expected us to help them collect the debt. I ended up getting the Association to put on a few Cantonese opera performances by amateur artists from the community and sell tickets to raise funds. They were usually a sell-out because we did not have any Chinese entertainment in those days.
My happiest day was the day when mom arrived in Edmonton from Toi Shan, China in 1953. We still lived in the same apartment but it sure felt much more homey.