I accompanied a Chinese friend to renew her business license at City Hall, where we filled out several forms and were sent to another office a few blocks away to complete more. The clerk at the second office saw my friend’s mailing address is in San Gabriel—not the Santa Maria address of the business—and mentioned she was raised there.
“Really? Where did you live?” I asked.
“Just off Valley Boulevard. But that was a long time ago,” she replied, “before the Orientals took over.”
My friend, who was standing next to me directly across the counter from the woman, may not yet be as fluent as George Plimpton was at his best, but she’s mastered English well enough in six years to understand every word. To save her discomfort, before an awkward split second elapsed, I said, “Isn’t it great to live in a diverse city with so many cultures blending as they do in Santa Maria and San Gabriel? We are so wealthy.”
The clerk hemmed and hawed for a moment: “Well, they just arrived so quickly, so many of them, that’s all.” She appeared to be perhaps in her late 40s, with the sleek raven hair, dark eyes, and warm complexion characteristic of Hispanic lineage, with a surname to match. And it occurred to me how immigrants of her apparent heritage in particular have lately borne the cruelty of others ignorant of their sacrifices, labor, and hopes.
It has been inspiring and humbling to glimpse how some recent immigrants from mainland China strive to succeed in a new home very alien from their origins, who believe in the American ideals of intense hard work, neighborly respect, and providing a helping hand.
San Gabriel and adjacent Monterey Park, two sprawling suburbs 20 miles east of metropolitan Los Angeles along U.S. Route 10, do indeed now have predominately Asian populations. If you’re ever in the area and love Chinese food, from my experience you can’t go wrong trying the restaurants that line the major avenues or shopping in the big groceries that cater to Chinese palates, which carry at bargain prices delectable produce and seafood unlike anything you’ll find at Albertsons or Ralph’s. Take a detour from downtown L.A. for a trip to another world. But you may not be privileged to witness firsthand how some new immigrants live.
There are unmarked subrosa dormitories—some squalid, others well-maintained—known as “family hotels,” which rent spaces little roomier than a cot at best, cleverly partitioned by drapes and the sort of fabric frames hospitals use for patient privacy. One of the family hotels I’ve seen packs seven women into one room, where they share the shower and a primitive kitchen. These family hotels likely are unknown to most Americans, such as the clerk in Santa Maria, but some of them have been established for decades and are well-known to prospective émigrés in China, where the business cards are widely circulated. From those cramped quarters, arrivals embark on careers to build new lives. I will never forget seeing a map of the United States tacked to the wall next to one of those cots.
My friend arrived alone six years ago knowing no English, having no friends or family here. She earns a very modest income she says would be a fortune in China, working seven long days most weeks. She constantly studies English and American history, and on the occasions I see her, always has a bigger vocabulary. She pays her taxes, saves, helps her family in China, and is scrupulous about her personal integrity, health, and finances. Her circumstance most Americans undoubtedly would consider a bleak hardship, but to her it is an opportunity.
Several years ago, she was granted permanent residence as a refuge after prevailing in court, thanks to her own perseverance and eloquence despite a language barrier. She forswears politics but recently shared some of her experiences as a teenager during the Cultural Revolution.
I am very thankful for the insight about how hard many immigrants work to build a life here and sincerely wish other Americans like me could learn at least as much. The experience has boosted my energy, and hope.
Ed Connolly is opinion editor of the Sun. Send comments via econnolly@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in May 5-12, 2011.
