The Vanishing tribe: Bouquets!
By Armand Rodrigues
The Canadian Goan Archives project:
Cecil D'Cruz and others deserve credit for their foresight in trying to
perpetuate recognition of what Goans have contributed to enhancing life in
Canada, by leaving a trail behind
through publications and documents generated by the Goan
community. Modesty apart, I was able to part with over 100 original
items, for the cause.
Also noteworthy is the fact
that Carlton University in Ottawa, Canada, started a Uganda Asians'
Archives Project in 2013. I covered the Goan component by providing them
with over 30 original publications 'and articles relating to some of the things
we were involved in in Uganda.
On another front, the Multicultural
History Society of Ontario (Canada) has archived books, publications and
newsletters relating to Goans and their goings-on in Canada. Notable
among the authors is Prof. Narendra Wagle (a Goan) of the University of
Toronto. Publications include "Proceedings of the International Goan
Convention 1988, organized by the Goan Overseas Assoc. (Toronto).
And Goa has not been forgotten. So far, sixteen of my writings
about our life and times in Goa, in the 40s & 50s, have been accepted for
display in its ethnological section, by the Goan Chitra Museum in Benaulim, Salcete,
Goa.
I often wonder if our compatriots
in other parts of the West have embarked on similar initiatives for the benefit
of posterity. John D. D’Souza's website was a boon for keeping the
Goan flame alive (like Eddie Fernandes in the U.K.) until he retired.
A few folks have lamented that they
did not know that my late brother Ferdie had conquered Mount Kilimanjaro.
For the record, perhaps I should write very humbly that I had the privilege of
attending the Royal College in Nairobi. I was in residence very briefly.
In 1968 the Uganda Government sent me as a delegate to the first East African
Management Conference. At the time I was the CEO (E) of the largest
Ministry and had the letters A.I.P.M (U.K) and M.I. MGT (U.K) on my business
cards. At the conference with 85 participants, I was one of the leaders/raconteurs.
The University was either impressed by my cashmere suits or
my input. I was inducted as a member of the East African Management
Foundation: E.A.M.F. My participation turned out to be a
turning point in my life. We were on Kenya T.V. every night with various
Ministers addressing us. One night Tom Mboya, once the bright light of
Kenya politics and a man destined to leader the country until his assassination,
was the keynote speaker. I asked him a simple question about my future in the
Uganda Civil Service. He was quite candid and his answer lasted about ten
minutes. The writing already on the wall became more ominous.
As luck would have it, I had always kept one jump ahead and, by choice,
had opted for a landing pad in Canada, as far back as 1962, when Uganda gained
independence. On my return to Uganda I cashed in on my chance. I
took early retirement from my good job, after nearly 22 years' service. We were
in Toronto in January 1969. The sequel is a story for another day.
RESETTLEMENT WOES DISSIPATE AS TIME GOES BY
Many
parts of Africa were in turmoil in the 1960s.
There was an exodus of expatriates from the Congo and from Kenya. Even in Uganda, which was a model of civil
rectitude, the locals were getting restless, eyeing jobs long held by
foreigners, with envious designs on their cars, furniture, TVs and
appliances. The writing was on the
wall. Sooner or later expatriates would
have to leave their comfortable lifestyle – with the added advantage of
domestics --- go back where they came from or seek refuge elsewhere.
Against
this backdrop, plus the fact that suitable schools were not available for the
children, Canada easily emerged as the most-promising country for me and my
family to re-locate to, for a better life.
It was worth taking the plunge and sacrificing over two decades of
service before and after Uganda gained independence from the British, and my
position as a CEO. My wife, Enid, had to
give up her tax-free United Nations’ job. We were elated when Canada accepted
us. We packed up our bags, bid Uganda
goodbye and headed into the unknown. We
were in Toronto in the winter of January 1969, with two young daughters in tow.
Although
we came with homogenous societal norms and language, some acculturation was
necessary. Variations like cookie for biscuit, stove for cooker, sidewalk for
pavement, trunk for boot, subway for tube, candy for sweets, faucet for tap,
gas for petrol, soon became second nature. School for the children was no problem at all.
Enid
found a secretarial job quite easily. I
languished in an alien atmosphere where qualifications and experience
well-received for immigration, were marginalized in the real job market.
Passing written tests with flying colours was little consolation when frivolous
reasons were advanced for not being offered employment. The letters M.I.Mgt (U.K.)
after my name meant nothing here. Being
over-qualified or over-experienced or lacking Canadian experience, were excuses
heard with painful regularity. My
European name also appears to have misled employers until they discovered at
interviews that I was an Asian. It
almost looked like I was not employable even at the lowest rung of the ladder. It was a depressing situation with self-doubt
and questions about whether we had made the right decision in coming to Canada.
However,
we had burned our boats behind us and had come to stay, for better or for
worse. Trying to rent an apartment was an exercise in futility as children and
skin-tone was an impediment. We were used to living in a house. We came
prepared with house plans but soon realized that getting a house built was not
realistic. So, even before I could find a job, we took an almost foolhardy leap
and bought a 3-bedroom bungalow in the west end of Toronto, with no inkling of
where any future job would be. We plunked down all we had in a
down-payment. We had a roof over our
heads alright, but lacked furniture, appliances, drapes, and the means to
acquire them. We knew nothing about
buying on credit or about credit rating. Our plight seemed to resonate with a
considerate Jewish merchant. He let us
obtain whatever we needed from his store, with “pay-when-you-can” faith in
us. Such magnanimity towards strangers
was a novel experience for us.
Then
we had to face reality and, out of necessity, engage in cooking, washing
dishes, doing laundry – activities that were somewhat foreign to us. Worse still, for a while I could not shed this
inhibition of “what will the neighbours think if they saw me doing a menial job
like mowing the lawn”? The house forced
me into the DIY ranks and into learning plumbing, carpentry and electrical
work, to complete the unfinished basement.
Four
months after our arrival, and numerous interviews later, I was thrilled and
relieved to enter the workforce, even though it was at the bottom tier. Over the years I gradually advanced, based on
the whims of the employer, in an environment where merit was a meaningless word
and only the domain of a chosen few. We
persevered and, as time went by, our financial situation improved. Comfort and consonance followed. We were able to use our disposable income to
travel the world. The experience gave us
a whole new perspective on how fortunate we were to be in Canada and to have
synthesized with ease into the culture.
Initial adversity has in no way diminished the fact that we always count
our blessings in Canada.
We
have always interacted well with the community in the realm of socials, sports
and religious pursuits, and have led fairly full lives. By way of giving back to society, my modest
contribution includes doing the accounts for a large charitable organization;
serving on club and church committees and the ratepayers’ association; and
continuing to be the coordinator/hotline for 45 volunteers who prepare income
tax returns for low-income seniors, disabled people, new immigrants and others,
in season.
Not
unmindful of the fact that biases exist in all societies, our optimistic
outlook has prevailed throughout, with trials of the past becoming distant
memories. We are proud to be Canadian
and to proclaim our loyalty to the country.
No comments:
Post a Comment