Tropical Symphony: a story of a unique Trinidadian-Chinese family

By RONALD (YETHING) YEE-MON

excerpts from "Tropical Symphony" -

"Nothing ever fills those empty gaps when we lose loved ones. A major lesson I learnt from my grandparents and Mam is nothing truly does. Their Christian faith nourished the belief that they would meet one day and be happy again, singing, laughing and eating. Perhaps this is heaven? I do not know nor could I imagine their unbearable pains of separation and loss. Somehow, they kept on going. ... The story is not over."

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098331979

Book preview

© 2020 by Ronald (Yething) Yee-Mon.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN (Print): 978-1-09833-196-2

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-09833-197-9

Dedicated to the memory of Lio Soo-Yee

Contents

Shangdon, China, August 1905:

New Year 1915, Port-of-Spain, Trinidad:

Summer 1921, Port-of-Spain, Trinidad:

San Rafael, Trinidad:

Charlotte Street, Port-of-Spain:

Soo-Yee shop and residence:

Sunday stroll along the Queen’s Park Savannah:

Life in the Soo-Yee household:

Port-of-Spain, September 1926:

Holy Rosary Church, Port-of-Spain, that memorable weekend after:

The week ahead:

Last encounter in Port-of-Spain and back to San Rafael:

A face to face meeting in San Rafael:

In their separate worlds, Port-of-Spain and San Rafael:

Life in Port-of-Spain:

The wedding party at Codrington Street:

Life in the Soo-Yee household 1928 to June 2nd 1932:

June 2nd 1932:

Life in the Soo-Yee household, June 3rd 1932 to January 23rd 1933:

The weeks that followed into years:

Carnival 1933 and later, an inquiry on Lio’s death:

The inquiry:

Lan, 1927-2001, eldest daughter of Nellie and Lio:

Nelson Street 1959-1965:

Belle Vue Road 1965-1971:

New York, 1971-1972; Belle Vue Road, 1972-1975:

The Abbey on Mount Saint Benedict, 1975-1985:

Rome, 1985-1987:

My final week in Rome 1987:

Codrington Street, Trinidad, 1988:

North Dakota, 1988 and continuing:

China, November, 2001:

Barcelona, 2015:

Lio, Lio, yuh come for meh! she cried out painfully.

Lio! her tired voice fading away in the hot tropical sun as Auntie June comforted her.

"No, Mam! That’s Yething! Lan’s first born son and his friend Tian!"

Lan was my mother’s Chinese name given to her by my grandmother in memory of her mother-in-law, Élan, the Manchurian princess as her husband described her.

Who is she calling? I inquired curiously.

Your Grandpa Lio! Auntie replied,

You remind her of your grandpa!

Taking her hand gently, Auntie June held her tightly as she wept for the umpteen time. How she missed my grandpa who died mysteriously at the age of 28! Tian, my school friend, asked me:

Who is that pale white woman?

"My grandma Hawkins! We call her Mam."

"How come she white? And why dey call you, Yething? I thought your name was Ronald."

"Yething is my Chinese name. Ronald is my school name. Mam is grandma."

yuh tink she really white?

Growing up in Trinidad in the early 60’s, I never thought of colour or race. Our family was diverse and familiar like most Trinidadian families. We lived in the area of Oxford Street, fancy name for a poor neighborhood, situated at the foot of a depressed area of the city known as Laventille. For the first time, I was caught off guard by my friend’s observation. We never questioned our diversity nor did it matter. My mother Lan, her sisters Leonie, June, Sheila and Jean lived in the same area; busy attending to the needs of their children who were a motley group of mixed races. We often played together when our mothers met to drink tea in the afternoons.

Here is our story inspired by true events from the southern Caribbean island of Trinidad - a journey of love that began 115 years ago with three individuals: Lio Soo-Yee, (my maternal grandfather), Annie Hawkins and Nellie Ribeiro-Albert, (the women he loved, my grandmothers) - and how they touched my mother’s life and mine.

Shangdon, China, August 1905:

A son is born to Élan and Liao Siu Song who have named him, Liao, after his father, a tall, thin, pale and bowed Chinaman whose grey hair and moustache betrayed his age; his eyes always lowered, so different from his Western-influenced son. The Chinese nation is in turmoil and the young family fears moving again. Protests and riots are emerging at local train stations owned and operated by the Germans in Shangdon. Liao’s mother, Élan, an independent woman of Manchurian descent, prepares herself mentally to move again. Fair skinned, tall and slender, taciturn and reserved, Élan is able to hold her own in her husband’s enterprises, always active in his affairs. From Shangdon, the couple has decided to move to the coastal city of Shanghai. Perhaps, they would fare better there than the provinces. With money saved from his trading connections, the older Liao knows the name of a German counterpart, Weishaupt. Soon, they would travel in search of a quiet and more stable life.

Snippets of their journey will remain masked in mystery. We know eventually the young family ended up in Shanghai. Élan and Liao with Liao, Jr. would soon venture even further as the Boxer Revolution swarmed China. With help from Weishaupt, they soon find themselves on board the SS Meigs for Gold Mountain, the mythical name ancient Chinese had given to North America.

Worn out by a transatlantic voyage, nine year old Liao with his parents barely survived the harrowing journey across the oceans. Arriving at the quay in the British colonial city of Port-of-Spain, Trinidad, the young well-to-do tradesman, Liao with his Manchurian wife and young son, suffered the unwelcoming stares of a huge crowd. Élan is sick and does not want to travel further to California where Chinese have begun work on the railroads.

What is your name? the English officer, reddish in face, small in stature, yet somehow impressive, asked in his thin, reely voice.

I think he is asking for your name! Élan whispered.

Liao Siu Song! he proudly replied.

The officer scribbles Soo Yee.

What has the English barbarian written? great-grandma asked.

He call me Soo-Yee. Great-grandpa answered.

What is Soo-Yee? she timidly inquired.

The officer then turned to young Liao.

And what is your name, young man?

What is he saying, Mama?

I think he is asking for your name.

Oh. Liao. my grandpa replied.

To which the officer wrote: Ah. Your name is Lio Soo-Yee!

Say yes, Liao! Mama paused,

The English devil does not know the language of our people.

From that moment, my grandpa was called Lio Soo-Yee, a name he would carry for the next nineteen years of his life. The year was 1914! More unrest was ravaging the Chinese homeland. Young Liao now Lio would embark upon a new life in a foreign land. His parents were shell-shocked, barely able to say a few words in English.

In the cosmopolitan colonial city of Port-of-Spain, the newly arrivals seemed like misfits among the Chinese community. They were Chinese with a German connection ready to start life again in a strange country. News of a Chinese family in the city seemed odd. Most of the local Chinamen were working in the fields, some recently opened laundries and small shops. Many had adapted, choosing local women as wives.

Ah wai, come here! a voice echoed.

Help the Soo-Yee’s with their luggage!

Chow san! the Hakka Chinaman, Ah Wai, bowed to the strangely Western dressed Chinese family.

What is English name? Ah Wai asked.

Lio! grandpa replied.

Thus, a new generation would begin from a piece of paper stating the name SOO-YEE.

Eventually, the family would establish themselves in this British outpost. Life would be merciless in a foreign country. Nonetheless, grandpa’s parents were survivors. They would soon invest whatever money they had in a small shop with the very help of the young man, Ah Wai whom they met at the port.

New Year 1915, Port-of-Spain, Trinidad:

Liao!

Yes, Mama! Papa say you go to English school … study English and become like English devil! Later you help Papa in small shop.

And so, at age 10, Grandpa would start studying English and later, attend Rosary Boys’ Primary school. His mother, Élan, a tall Manchurian woman, braved the streets of the strange Western city. She reminisced the first time she had met her husband, Liao in the province of Qingdao. He had moved into the area along with many thousands of Han immigrants. Liao could not understand why this young lady was walking unaccompanied by a male companion. Her feet, he noticed, looked differently. Manchurians did not bind the feet of their women. Papa, a Han Chinaman was intrigued. Within a few weeks of their first casual encounter, he approached Mama’s parents rushing to ask for her hand in marriage without the use of the traditional matchmaker. They were pleased that someone had taken an interest in their only daughter. At that time, Élan and Liao were both working at the local train station. Grandpa’s parents had done well in those prosperous years before the rice farmers began to demonstrate. Troops, he learnt many years later, had moved into the capital city, Wuchang on October 10th, a date that became the memorial day of the Chinese Revolution. Grandpa’s mother was thinking how much they had scraped and saved so that they could open a shop in Hubei. Now she was in a strange place having to start all over again. Social unrest and political disruption had always played a huge part in their lives. Young Lio had vague memories of his Papa asking him to bring him a hammer to board up their small business in case a riot would break out in the city of Hubei. He recalled men with their pigtails and dark-colored suits swaggering along the streets, calling on their leaders to act decisively, to remove the foreign investors. How they suddenly ended up in a British colony far removed from their ancient city totally baffled him!

Now he could hear his Mama Élan, reciting a few strange words she had learnt from a Belgian priest in the Shangdon province.

Bon jour, mon pere! Great-grand Mama gingerly opened her mouth.

The local parish priest, Rev. de Verteuil was impressed. Who was this tall Chinese woman saying these few words in French?

Great-grandma tried to explain she had met the saintly Belgian priest, Pere Vincent Lebbe talking about Jesus on the streets of Shangdon. Rev. de Verteuil did not understand what she was saying. Much would be written about this Pere Vincent Lebbe, revered for his love of the Chinese people. In her new environment, Mama Élan thought this new priest looked like him. The truth is most of the Chinese in her local community had barely understood what the saintly priest was saying, trying to figure out his gods. They were amused by his use of the Chinese language. The locals in Mama’s city called him Lei-Ming-Yuan, meaning the thunder that sings in the distance. Now, Mama found herself like him in a foreign country, trying to explain she had met a European who taught her how to say Good morning in his native tongue. Nonetheless, Mama made an impression and young Lio was accepted in the school on the condition that he be baptized.

Mama Élan accepted whatever he said; but, chose not to join his religion, hesitating for herself, preferring to honor her ancestors and the gods of their choices. She mused on the impossibility or improbability of one of her grandsons becoming a priest! And God smiled at her amusement!

Summer 1921, Port-of-Spain, Trinidad:

Ten years later, a handsome son of Liao and Élan, now known as Lio Soo-Yee, begins to speak the language of the English colonials with confidence. His parents continued to hope one day to return to China. In a shop they had bought with their life’s savings, Ah Wai, the dock worker whom they first met, became their faithful helper. My great grandpa invested his money in real estate: buying properties outside the city limits: an old house on Codrington Street in the capital, which was later bequeathed to my own mother and another in Bethel Street, in an area called St. James. Life for the newly-named Soo-Yee family was far from uneventful – the peoples were different, even the Chinese who had come from various provinces were increasing in number. By age 21, grandpa Lio’s future was secured, thanks to the hard work of his parents. With his ability to speak English well, his father would enlist the help of Chinese intermediaries to find him an appropriate Chinese wife from the motherland. But young Lio had other plans. He focused himself on integrating in the rising Creole society, quite unusual for a China man at that time.

According to my own mother who was named after his beloved Manchurian mother, Lio preferred the company of white people. His parents were set on a mail-order bride to ensure the continuation of their cultural and racial identity in this diverse society. A well-paid matchmaker in China would be quite willing to arrange a marriage for such a deserving family. Events in Grandpa Lio’s life would alter all such plans. Because of his outspoken nature, fostered by a fiercely independent mother and his own Western attitude fueled by an independence of thought, Lio was frequently at odds with his conservative Chinese father.

Their first year in the colonial island of Trinidad had a dramatic effect on their lives. The newly named Soo-Yee’s immersed themselves in the Cantonese speaking community of Port-of-Spain. Lio’s ability to speak English well was an asset to his father. He had eclipsed into a striking young man with his dark, curly hair, 6 feet tall frame, boyish grin, hazel-brown eyes, medium built fashioned as a Valentino-look alike. Grandpa Lio’s height confused many who thought he might not be of Chinese extraction. Soon, he began to attract the attention of the locals. His Eurasian features (combination of his Manchurian and Han Chinese background) fascinated the teenage girls. Great grandpa’s mail-order bride was soon shelved. Lio felt less inclined to think of home as China while his parents agonized about his future. Home and financial security resided in the British Empire. Few thoughts were wasted on returning to Shanghai which he barely remembered. Lio was never ungrateful for his parents’ sacrifices. His mother, Élan, was increasingly homesick for her family in China. His father worked tirelessly in their shop alongside Ah Wai who treated him like a younger brother.

Ah Wai, why do people call you John?

Is that your English name? Lio, one day asked him.

My parents not survive sea voyage to Trinidad! he whispered.

So, I adopted by a Creole family. In those days, Chinese orphans were baptized and given Christian names. Then, when I turn 17, I met Chinese workers in the area where I brought up, joining them later in Charlotte Street where many board together. They call me Ah Wai. So, I use both names John Ah Wai.

Your father treat me well. I like working for Liao and he give me back room in shop to live free! So I save money to buy my own shop one day!

You marry local girl or order Chinese bride?

Chinese bride too expensive! Ah Wai lamented.

Perhaps, we take local girls. We find pretty country girls an’ bring them to town.

The conversation abruptly ended as Lio remembered.

Lio, come quick! Mama not well! shouted Papa Liao.

Go get Chinese herb tea! Mama coughing too much!

Grandpa sensed something was not right. His mother often refused to see their customers, fearful that they may not want to buy their goods. Tuberculosis was a constant fear of people in the late 20’s. Eventually, grandpa Lio spent more time in the shop and less time hanging out with the young men of his age. He often spoke to the local pharmacist, hoping one day, he would learn his trade. Perhaps, he could dream of becoming a doctor? Anything was possible in this new land! Many of his father’s rich clientele were sending their sons abroad. Lio thought he could have had an opportunity. Life’s twists and turns changed my grandpa’s ambitions. Spending more time in the shop with Ah Wai while his Papa attended to his mother’s care seemed like a foregone future: life in a Chinese shop! Ah Wai assured him it was not the end of the world. He reminded him of his father’s real estate which few Chinese had invested. How lucky could he be!

Next to Grandpa Lio, Ah Wai was a short, stocky, cheerful man with a sparse beard and pendulant moustaches. He was a few years older than Lio, dreamt of having a large family and hoped to imitate Liao by buying a property. He was mild-mannered with a bit of a stammer.

He walked like a little Buddha. At one’s first meeting, customers in the shop forgot about his outward appearance and stutter. He attracted all who were overburdened by poverty as he was. People would stop simply to seek his advice. Ah Wai would make jokes which the older Liao could not. He always seemed to say the right thing at the right moment. In contrast to the slender Lio whose sensibilities aimed at the skies, John Ah Wai was down to earth and cunning enough to survive any situation. He never seemed to think of himself, especially when Élan became increasingly sick and he had to spend much more time running the shop with Lio.

Though he was less educated that the boss’ son; the Soo-Yee family depended on him when tragedy appeared on their door steps, altering all their lives’ dreams and hopes. For now, life was good. Ah Wai was enjoying himself and often frequented the Chinese ‘machong’ groups after work. The days and months dragged on feverishly. Birds, rain and sunshine, sometimes seemed so buoyant, shifting images of better times to come, yet young Lio could not rid himself of a depression and uncertainty which stuck like a lump in his throat.

Ah Wai, know of young lady who take care of wife? Ah need help. great-

Grandpapa asks him one sunny morning.

I go ask old man Woon. He have country gurl for wife now. Perhaps she know someone!

Old man Woon had done well. He was one of successful Chinese in the community who opened the first laundry in the area. For many years he worked on an estate in the sleepy village of San Rafael where he encountered a Creole family, who washed his clothes for him. It was there he thought of opening up his own laundry business if he could get to Port-of-Spain where he believed he would find more customers. By marrying a local woman, he was sure he would succeed. And he did.

Ah Wai! Wake up! Did you ask old man Woon about a help for Mama?

Sorry. We were out playing machong!

The Chinese who lived in Port-of-Spain often socialized together. They lived for gambling and were consumed by it, often becoming sullen, dull like heroin addicts who sat in corners, in the shadows. The long boring routine of work consumed their lives; while, many longed for home that no longer existed and family they yearned, so few achieved. Ah Wai, as the youngest among them, served the local rum while they played this Chinese game that soon became part of the local tapestry. The rum was stronger than the rice wine one of the older heads used to create, far cheaper and available. New habits mingled wondrously with the old.

Ah Wai – you drunk again? How much you lose?

Don’t tell your Pa. Ah need dis job.

Open shop for me, Lio, while ah makes Chinese herb tea!

Ma still need help. He heard the whispering sound of Lio’s voice.

Woon had won some extra money, so it seemed always. The other gamblers gave him what little they had. Like most of the older Chinese, he was married in China. First wives needed more cash than local ones. He never told his local wife that he was married in China until they had their first-born son whom Woon promised to send to China to live with First-wife. For now, the first time in their lives, like fresh blood, money began to circulate in the colony, publicly, boldly and openly! Life was better than the old country.

San Rafael, Trinidad:

Nellie Ribeiro-Albert was a teenager when her cousin Josephine, nicknamed ‘Synn’ had left their sleepy village to live with Woon in Port-of-Spain. By all accounts, life was good for the first sister to marry a Chinaman. Her aunt Celestine had taken care of her since she was a child. Soon she would travel the long distance into the city by taking the train. Synn was more a sister than a cousin to her. She had procured a job for her to take care of an elderly sick Chinawoman named Élan. Aunt Celestine knew her sister, Clementina, would be pleased. As she looked at Nellie playing under a mango tree, she recalled the day she was born. Tragedy had followed her from the beginning.

Push Clementina! Push! ‘de chile coming out soon!

Don’t be ‘fraid!

It’s a gurl! cried out Celestine.

What beautiful curly hair she has!

Thank God – not a pickney chile! Her future may be better than her mother!

What shall we call her, Clementina?

Nellie! I like de English name ‘Nellie!’

But it’s not Spanish! A ‘cocopagnol’ with an English name!

Nellie shall be her name. She will carry it well. Nellie Ribeiro-Lopez!

No Lopez!

Let her carry your family name Albert!

But what de priest would say?

Let de priest tink what he want!

Nellie Ribeiro-Albert! shall be her name!

Clementina cradles her baby in her arms for the first and last time.

Celestine, treat her like one of your own! Ah so weak, tired!

That long hot August day stayed in Celestine’s memory. Unfortunately, Clementina did not make it. Life in the country was never easy. From that moment, Celestine concentrated her efforts on her family and went about her business as if she were inspired by a new mission for her sisters’ happiness. On her face which seldom smiled, was an expression of painful and concentrated attention. She kept her promise to her sister and raised Nellie as her own. The echoes of her twin-unmarried sister filtered through her mind.

Promise, Celestine, you take care of Nellie like your own daughter if anything happens to meh! her brow sweating in the warmth of a country house, the kerosene lamp, the only light in the house, the sound of barking dogs, screeching chickens, rattling insects filling the air with sounds; bats flying high and low, the humid weather swimming through the mosquito-net in this tiny bedroom. She remembered leaving the room in tears.

Already a house filled with her own daughters: Synn, Cimoy, Eunice, Amoy, Babe and two sons! Now a newborn without a father! Nellie would, nonetheless, be loved and cherished by her aunt Celestine.

The older boys, Peter and Junior, were working in the cacao plantations with their father Amon like their early ancestors, the Carib-Spanish peoples of the region. A chance encounter with newly arrivals, Chinese laborers would impact their lives in ways that would change their fortunes forever. It was around this time when Celestine took in ‘doing laundry’ for