[Oe List ...] Fwd: August 22 for ST from Jaime

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Mon Aug 18 03:33:19 PDT 2014


Canuck Zhinoy Canadian


 
Bilingual Canadien is the object of public schooling in aplace that prides itself as a mosaic of varied colors.  Though the signage is only in English andFrench, the lilt of the Irish and Scot, gruff of the German and Russian,Ukrainian and Finn, and the sing-songs of the Hindi, Chinese, and Filipino werespoken by the population I heard cruising among the plaid-shirted,buckled-denim-pants, hat-and-boots crowd of the Calgary Stampede.
 
Nunavut is actually home to the First Nations, a term thatcovers a multitude of self-esteems.  Agrouping names the Woodland First Nationsin the dense boreal forest of the northeast; the Iroquoian First Nations that inhabit the southernmost fertile areafor corn, beans and squash - cousins to the 'Indians' who smoked with thePilgrim's progress in their first thanksgiving dinner after a year of survivinga harsh winter in the Atlantic coast; and the Plains First Nations that lived in the grasslands of the Prairies,whose maidens warmed up to Scot, Irish, and Welsh fur trappers, rendering themas the forsaken Metis folks (mixedblood) I once worked with in Saskatchewan and Manitoba.
 
Then we have the PlateauFirst Nations that dots the semi-desert arid air south of the high mountainsand dense forest in the north; the PacificCoast First Nations whose fingerprints are left in abundant shellfish andsalmon consumed in gigantic red cedar buildings and huge houses; and the First Nations of the Mackenzie and YukonRiver Basins that weathers the harsh environment of swampy muskeg terrain, barren land, and dark forest.
 
Like the rest of the aborigines and indigenes elsewhere, ifthey had not yet been decimated by the genocidal policies of Indo-Aryan'sracial superiority, they are relegated to providing native costumes to localfests, at best, the recipients of well-intended dole, and, at worst, thevictims of deliberate oppression, sad in either case.
 
Our playful title of the CanuckZhinoy Canadian encompasses the Canadien (Canuck used by Canadians thoughused pejoratively in the U.S.), the Zhinoy (am coining the new word in lieu ofthe pejorative "Chinoy") workers that now do the manual labor ineateries and retail fronts in shops, and the Celt-Anglo-Teutonic of the ranchfarms and the coat-and-tie Canadians that dominates the country's politicalstables, all visible in Spadina, Toronto any given day.
 
I identify with the growing Zhinoy (like Champinolinians for Chamorro, Pilipinoand Carolinian mix), a clear Sino-Indo-Malay blend now in worldwidediaspora.  One of my children who addedCelt-Anglo-Teutonic shades to her genetic mix had a banner flying at heruniversity declaring: "mongrels of the world, unite!"  This is different from her Metis brothers and sisters whoseself-depreciating story was ingrained by the ambivalent non-treaty categorythey endured when the purist perspective of Canadian dispensation thought themdispensable as the elk and the uranium.
 
I was in Sichuan in southwest China not too long ago, in theZang region (Xizang is the local name of Tibet in the Himalayas, xi = west,Zang = a Himalayan ethnic group) of Kangding in the Garze Autonomous Regionwhere I saw how the Chinese government bolsters the self-image of its minoritygroups, imbuing pride to those who appropriate the "affirmative"action of the central government's policy on minorities.  I visited Liuliude Park where the nativeKangding Love Song (liuliude) was thetheme but like many affirmative actions in other places, responsibility is onthose who take advantage of opportunities offered rather than on those who waitto be spoon-fed by guardians and powers-that-be.
 
Barack Hussein Obama broke through a glass ceiling.  I hope he can stay away from the trigger-happynut cases that proliferate America's armed handgun closets (numbers for the topthree: of every 100 folks, there are 86 handguns in the US, 55 in Yemen, and 46in Switzerland).   
 
I started this reflection on Canada's celebration of itsmosaic character, one I dearly appreciated when I lived in Saskatchewan whereone daughter acquired a Canadian passport (later exchanged for a US blue simplyon the dictate of travel convenience), and another daughter born in Alberta whoappropriates her mongrel lineage among the alohawaves of Polynesia.
 
I was in Calgary on CanadaDay 2014, when it went into its annual introspection: "What doesCanada mean to me?"  It is aquestion that every political entity can ask of its adherents.  It is the question that stands in between thepersonal "Who am I? or Who do I say I am?", to the all-encompassingquestion of the earthrise, "Where is home?",  where belonging to one planet is anilluminating reality that now receives widespread allegiance.  Asking all three leaves the middle, usually thedomain of jingoistic responses, an intentional communal life between theexperience of one's uniqueness, and the demand of nothing less than be human onearth.
 
I, too, am proud to be a mosaic.  Thank you, Canucks.


j'aime la vie
pinoypanda2031 at aol.com

yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today. participate. In all, celebrate!

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