Prisoners in the Promised Land Read online

  Tato had written Mama a letter explaining how bad the ship would be, and that’s why we brought the dried bread and water with us. We have been sipping our own water because the water on the ship is cloudy. Tato told us that when we run out of our own water, we are to boil the ship’s water before drinking it, and if we can’t do that, Mama is to put a little bit of the vodka into the water to make it fresher. He also told us not to eat the ship’s food. We are not tempted to eat it because it smells awful.

  Everyone in steerage was given a metal plate and a knife and fork. A couple of times a day they announce that food is ready and people line up and get stuff slopped onto their plates. There is no table, so people have to take their plates back to their beds and balance them on their laps. When they’re done, they’re supposed to wash their own plates, but all there is to wash the plates is sea water. We aren’t hungry because the sea is so rocky. Also, it smells bad down here and that puts you off your food. I find that a bit of dry babka dipped in water can sometimes stay down on a sick stomach. A small spoonful of honey is nice too.

  May 1914

  Friday, May 1, 1914

  our 11th day on the ship

  We are doing better than most of the people in steerage. There is a mother and a baby and a girl my age in the compartment beside ours. They speak our language, but it sounds a bit different from ours. Mama says they are probably from Bukovyna, which is the crownland right beside Galicia. The baby has been sick since the first day. Part of the problem is that they’ve been drinking the water from the ship. We have so little of our own water left that we have been saving it for Mykola, but Mama brings cups of boiled ship water to the family when she can get it. It is so crowded in the steerage kitchen that it is not always possible.

  The girl’s name is Irena, and her baby sister’s name is Olya.

  Irena reminds me of Halyna. She has green eyes that sparkle when she smiles and her hair is the same light brown. Oy, I wish Halyna could be with me. The lilac she gave me is pressed and drying inside of my diary, and I look at it and sniff it when I feel sad. I am going to be so lonely in Canada. I thought maybe Irena would be coming to Montreal like us, but they’re going to a different part of Canada. Her father has a farm far far away from Montreal. I told her that my father has something even better — he has an important job in a modern factory and we have a grand house on Grand Trunk Street. I didn’t tell her the reason Tato could only go as far as Montreal in the first place is because his money was stolen as soon as he got off the ship!

  Later

  Irena brought beads also, and she has some fancy ones. We have decided to make each other a necklace. I am going to use black and red beads. Here is the pattern I am making for her:

  Saturday, May 2, 1914

  our 12th day on the ship

  Irena and I explored. We took little Olya with us so Irena’s mother could sleep. Sometimes we take Mykola, but Mama says we can take either Olya or Mykola, but not both of them at the same time.

  On the steerage deck, I can look out onto the ocean and breathe in cold salty air. People sit on the floor of the deck and lean against the wall or they stand at the railing and look down into the water. I don’t like to lean over the side because I am afraid of falling into the waves.

  The two of us take turns carrying Olya and we walk up and down the deck. The breeze is fresh, and it is also good to stretch our legs.

  One of the men from Bukovyna took out a reed pipe and started playing. The first song was a sad one, all about leaving Bukovyna behind, and I almost cried. One woman wailed and the man looked really upset, so he changed and started playing the bars of a kolomyika.

  The woman stopped crying and the man sitting beside her got up. He clapped to the music, and then looked at his wife. “Let’s dance,” he said, but she stayed sitting. He looked around to see if anyone else would come up.

  Irena passed Olya to me and then stepped forward.

  With the grace of an angel, she swirled through a series of fancy dance movements. I wish I could dance like that!

  After Irena finished, someone else stepped forward, and then another and another. It was all so much fun that even Olya’s baby hands were clapping in time to the music. Of all the days on the ship, this was the best!

  Sunday, May 3, 1914

  our 13th day on the ship

  Mama says that it is sinful that we have gone two Sundays without going to Mass. One of the men from Bukovyna tells her that there are no churches in Canada because no one would pay for God’s passage. When he said that, some of the people laughed, but I think it’s a rude thing to say. Besides, God is everywhere, isn’t he?

  Mama made us all kneel down in our compartment like we did last Sunday and we said a prayer.

  Later

  Irena gave me the most beautiful necklace of white and yellow beads. I shall wear it always.

  Here is what it looks like:

  What I especially love is the one large pearly white Venetian bead that has a flower etched inside it!

  Monday, May 4, 1914, Day 14

  My hands are blue with cold and it is hard to hold this pencil. If I squint hard, I can see land! I am so excited. I will see Tato soon. And our new house!

  Mama needs me to help her pack, so I must go.

  Tuesday, May 5, 1914, Day 15

  Our ship passed land but didn’t stop. Irena and I stood on the steerage deck and tried to see as much as we could, but everyone had the same idea. Mama held Mykola’s hand but he kept on trying to squirm away.

  I stood on my tiptoes and watched as the ship glided past high grey rocks and vast stretches of land. We must have been going through a gigantic river because there was land on both sides. It is cold and bare and empty. Is this Canada?

  One of the men said that the ship will stop when it reaches the Port of Montreal.

  Later

  After hours and hours there were finally people and houses and docks on the land instead of just rocks. It is still cold though and has been raining.

  Everyone was crowding at the side of the ship, trying to see the shore. I couldn’t see, even standing on my tiptoes. Finally, I got down on my hands and knees and crawled through people’s legs to get to the front. I could see the shore through two ladies’ skirts. Irena was right beside me.

  The ship slowly came to a stop and we all cheered. I had a lump in my throat. I am so excited about seeing Tato and our new home, but I am sad and scared too. What will my life be like in Canada?

  I miss Horoshova so much.

  Later

  The ship has landed, and there is a crowd of people at the dock. We don’t see Tato.

  Later

  Everyone on the ship lined up according to the language that they spoke and then a doctor checked us over. There was a man with the doctor who could speak our language. I could see that Mama was fearful when the doctor checked Mykola. He has been sick so many times in his short life, but thankfully the doctor passed him. He didn’t take too long with Baba or Mama either. It didn’t occur to me that I would have any problems getting through, but he took longer with me than anyone else. He thought that I might have an eye infection but I told the translator that my eyes were red from crying. The translator patted me on the shoulder and the doctor passed me.

  After our health inspection we had to go through an interview with a Canadian government official. Mama showed him Tato’s letter and some forms that we had brought. Tato had said that we would have to show him our money, but the official didn’t ask us about this. He filled out a paper for each of us and stamped them with an official-looking crest. It didn’t take very long but it was scary. I have always been afraid of people in uniforms.

  Tato still isn’t here. Mama and Baba and Mykola and I are sitting on the dock on our boxes. I am scared. What if he doesn’t come for us?

  It is no longer raining and the clouds have cleared. The sun is shining, although it is hard to tell because of the smoke in the air. Now that I am warming up I can smell my st
inky clothing. I can hardly wait until Tato comes to get us so that I can have a proper bath.

  The people who come to the dock are not dressed like us. The women don’t have scarves on their heads. Instead, they wear odd hats like this:

  And they don’t braid their hair. It is somehow puffed or curled and it looks ugly.

  When we got off the ship, most people ignored us, but one couple held their noses and made faces. It’s not our fault that we stink. How would they like it if they had just been in the bottom of a ship for two weeks?

  That couple has left, and still we sit on the dock, praying that Tato will come. If this is Montreal, I don’t like it. The houses and buildings are all black with soot. There are big ships here, not just ours. There are trains and there are factories. There is smoke in the air and the ground is strewn with paper and garbage. Everything is black or grey or brown.

  — I miss cherry blossoms and the lilacs of Horoshova

  — I miss the clean blue Dnister River

  — I miss the hundreds of shades of green in the forest

  Where is Tato?

  Irena and her family left for one of the trains. I asked her to write me, but she said that she doesn’t know how. Oy, it makes me sad to think that she never had an older brother like I did, who was willing to teach her to read and write. When Irena saw how sad I was at the thought of never hearing from her again, she took my hand and looked me in the eye. “I will learn to write,” she promised. “And I will write to you.” I miss her already. And Halyna too. And I miss my dear brother Volodymyr more than words can say.

  I am trying hard not to cry.

  Much later

  TATO FINALLY CAME!!!!

  Wednesday, May 6, 1914

  very late at night in our new home at 261-3 (front) Grand Trunk Street

  Everyone else is asleep. When I sit close to the window, enough light from the street lamp outside shines through for me to see.

  Here is what happened when Tato came:

  He arrived with a horse and wagon and a plant in a little clay pot for Mama. It was a sunflower. Tato said he grew it from seeds from our garden in Horoshova. Tato is so strong that when the driver wouldn’t help him with our luggage, he lifted our boxes into the wagon by himself. Even though he was so strong, he looked different than I remembered him. He was wearing trousers and a shirt like a Canadian man, and he had sturdy leather boots. He has a deep line across his forehead but when he smiles his face looks almost like I remember it.

  I thought we would have a long drive, but our house is just a little ways away from the Port of Montreal. Tato says our street is named Grand Trunk after the company that owns the railroad — not named after the big boxes.

  But our house is a big tall box. I thought we were going to get the whole house to ourselves, but Tato laughed when I said that. Even though we don’t get the whole house, we have the front of the top floor, which is wonderful!

  When the wagon stopped at our house, people came out to watch. A man from the bottom level helped Tato with the boxes. His name was Ivan Pemlych and he immigrated from the village of Shuparka, which is about eighteen kilometres from Horoshova. Isn’t it strange how we can cross the ocean, and one of the first people we meet is from a neighbouring village? He said that his youngest son Stefan is close to my age. He wasn’t at home right then so I didn’t meet him. I am glad that there is someone else here that is my age, even if it is a boy.

  Pemlych from downstairs and Tato carried up the boxes first and then Mama followed with Mykola. Baba stayed sitting in the wagon with her arms crossed over her chest. “I can’t climb up all those stairs,” she said.

  I tried to help but she just sat there looking angry. Then the man who owns the wagon said something in English and motioned with his hands for Baba to get out of the wagon. I was worried about what he was going to do, but then Baba sighed and asked me for my hand and I helped her down.

  She didn’t have much trouble getting up the stairs. She puffed a little bit and rested a couple of times, but that was all. I walked behind her just in case, so I was the last one to see our new house on the inside.

  Here is what I like about my Canadian house:

  — we walk up three giant flights of outside stairs to get here

  — no one lives on top of us so the roof is ours

  — I am with my dear tato again

  — I have a bed that we set on its side against the wall during the day to keep it out of the way, but that is flipped down at night

  — I don’t have to share a bed with Baba

  — we have an inside pump for water

  — we have a big stove that heats with coal instead of wood

  — we have our own outhouse in the backyard

  Here is what I don’t like:

  — I have no room of my own

  — I have to share a bed with Mykola

  — the people who live underneath us are very loud

  — what should be a backyard is filled with rows and rows of stinky outhouses for other people

  — there is no front yard

  — we only have one window!

  — there is no place for a garden

  Thursday, May 7, 1914

  early morning, in our new home

  Mama tsk-tsked when we got in. I could see that she was pleased with the place itself, but she was not happy with how Tato had been keeping it. The floor is grimy and there is a stale smell in the air. Tato said that he was renting out sleeping space to single men to make more money until we got here.

  Mama had hardly been inside when she filled a big pot with water and warmed it on the stove so she could fill the tub with water and we could all have a bath. As it was warming, she started cleaning. We hadn’t even sat down and she started cleaning. Mama is still the same in Canada as she was in Horoshova. I don’t know whether that’s good or bad.

  Later

  I still haven’t seen this boy, Stefan, who supposedly lives on the first floor of this building. The family directly below us doesn’t speak our language. I don’t know what language they’re speaking. It doesn’t sound like English either.

  Tato has already left. He works at a factory right on Grand Trunk Street! He says I will be starting school on Monday and Mama will be starting at the job he found for her. In the meantime, I am to help Mama get the house in order. We are also supposed to find Canadian clothing. I am glad about this. Canadian clothing may look funny, but at least people won’t stare at us.

  Pemlych’s wife brought us a basket of buns and a jug of milk. She works for a Canadian lady just like Mama. I hope Mama gets to bring home buns from work! Mama will be working for a lady called Mrs. Haggarty. Pemlych’s wife said she doesn’t get to bring food home often, just when there are leftovers. The buns were delicious!

  Pemlych’s wife drew a map for Mama so that we could get to the Association of Ukrainians, which is at 481 Wellington Street. She said it was not a long walk. This was confusing, though, because Tato gave us a map to go to the Ukrainian Society on the corner of Centre Street and Ropery Street. Mama showed her that map but our neighbour said the Association is better if it is clothing we want.

  Mama asked Pemlych’s wife why both of these places had “Ukrainian” in their names and not “Galician.” Pemlych’s wife said that Galicia was just one area where people share our language and customs. There’s also Bukovyna, the Crimea, the Carpathian Mountains and even parts of Russia and Poland!

  Late at night

  Things that I love:

  — my new shoes and my new stockings

  Things that I hate:

  — this stupid dark blue jumper thing that I have to wear to school — it is so ugly!

  — people who make fun of my mother

  — drawers

  Baba stayed with Mykola while Mama and I explored. We wanted to get to the Association of Ukrainians, but we didn’t know the streets and took a wrong turn and ended up by the canal on St. Patrick Street.

  A man wear
ing a dirty brown hat was following us. I told Mama but she told me to keep on walking. When we were about half a block away, the man yelled something at us that sounded like “Dirtybohunk.”

  Mama was so surprised that he was speaking to us that she turned to stare at him. She tripped on a crack, falling down hard on the sidewalk and almost pulling me down with her. As I tried to help her back to her feet, a kind shopkeeper came out of his store and helped Mama up. He didn’t speak our language, but she thanked him with gestures and then she showed him our map. He turned it around and showed us what direction we needed to go in.

  By the time we got to the Association of Ukrainians, it was mid-morning! An old man named Augustyn opened the door and we followed him in.

  There was a man at the table who was reading a newspaper. I was shocked when I saw him because he looked just like my brother. Mama went up to him and said, “Volodymyr, is that you?”

  When the man looked up, though, he stopped looking like my brother. I’ll tell you later about my big brother who died. This man had a weak chin and big teeth. My brother was perfect. Mama sat down to talk to him and I looked around the rest of the room.

  An old lady who was mending in the corner nodded to me in greeting. When I told her that Mama wanted school clothes for me, she looked me up and down and then started sorting through a basket of clothing at her feet. She said she’d put something together for me.

  She held up a white long-sleeved shirt and showed me that it had a stain on the front. She said it would be covered up so I shouldn’t worry.

  When I looked down at it, I saw that it was much too short! Can you believe that it came only as far as my hips? I blushed just looking at it. There were buttons up the front, and where there should have been embroidery, there was something called a collar.

  I told this lady (who I now know is Sonechko the widow) that a shirt like this was indecent! A bit of wind is all it would take to unwrap my skirt and show my privates to the world!