Sunny Side Up! June 27, 2001 � 2001, by Kathleen Gibson The Privileges of Citizenship Include Sharing �Kathleen? Next month I will maybe be shittyshin. Will you help to get me ready?� �Pardon me?� I was flummoxed. �I would like you to ask my shittyshin questions, I will answer.� Her new word so amazed me that it took a moment to understand that my Asian friend was asking for help preparing for her Canadian citizenship exam. What followed was a month as delightful and educational as any I�ve ever had. As we sat at the table, tea at our elbows, I learned more about Canada than I�d ever known. And yes, we corrected the pronunciation of that troublesome word. It�s all in the placement of the tongue and lips. My husband and I have welcomed often the huge privilege of assisting where we could to make the Canadian experience a little less perplexing for immigrants, refugees, and visitors from other countries. Sometimes it�s been as simple as being a friend, or providing dinner, or shelter for a time. But it has been as complex as attempting to explain the intricacies of English. (Rock: very loud music. Rock: to move back and forth while sitting or standing in one place. Rock: a hard object found in the ground.) �EEEnglish,� sighed one of my students, often, �ees deeficult language!� She was right. Sometimes it�s meant being a reverant participant during the holy act of welcoming shiny-wet new Canadians in a hospital delivery room�once very nearly in our living room. �He�d not been present at the birth of any of his children. It wasn�t done in his African culture. Most of the time other women were present, but once he�d returned home to find a sleeping infant in the corner, and his wife cooking a family meal. No one had been with her during the birth. But he was in Canada now. He would act like a Canadian. During the next ten hours I watched him grow pale, leave the room several times, and stoically return a moment later. He stuck with his wife right to the happy ending. A wee girl. The only Canadian in her family of ten. I�ll never forget his first words as he cradled his tiniest daughter in his large hands. Her eyes were wide and white in her exquisite face. �You poor baby,� he crooned, smiling. �You are born to this cold country.� Peter would agree. From hot, humid Hong Kong, he admitted to us once that he sincerely thought the words to our national anthem were �Oh, Canada, we stand outside and freeze.� He sung those very words with gusto often. They were the only words in the anthem he understood completely, he said. I�m one of the wealthiest of the wealthy, born to the best country there is on the hard crust of this terrestial ball. It�s been an immense joy to share it, to make the climate a little less cold for the newcomers God has gently set on my path. So they don�t have to stand outside and freeze. You can respond to this column at <[email protected]> |