One of the most common questions in small talk when you first meet someone here in Canada is, “Where are you from?” This question can be perceived one of two ways: as a way to separate the person you have just met as being different from you, or as a way to indicate you want to know more about them and about their story. I always ask the question for the second reason, not the first. Is there anything wrong with wanting to know someone’s story? I don’t think so. Because more often than not, the story is a fascinating example of human courage, perseverance and resilience. I thoroughly agree with Amanda Marshall’s song, ‘Everybody’s Got a Story’. And I am a sucker for a good story.
I often run training sessions in rural areas in Ontario, places that are not exactly the diversity capitals of Canada. The groups of participants are overwhelmingly ‘white’ or ‘Caucasian’ or whatever the politically correct term is these days. In one training group, there were usual multiple people with the same name–David, or John, or Michael or Tom. There was only one participant with an aboriginal background.
Intriguingly, however, there was a ‘Takping Marial Takping’ and a ‘David Hashiguchi’. The former had skin as black as black can be. The latter had the eyes that went with his Japanese last name.
All the time I was conducting the training session I was consumed with curiousity about Takping and David. How did they come to be in this town in northern Ontario? David’s story was perhaps easier to guess. He had the typical accent of someone born and raised in Canada. I suspected his family had long been in Canada, part of one of the waves of Japanese who immigrated to Canada years ago. Takping’s story however, was more of a mystery. He had completed his post secondary education in Thunder Bay but he spoke English with the wonderful musicality of an African accent. I wondered what had brought him so far north. And I wondered about his life here, working in one remote northern mining location after another.
On the plane coming home from one training session I sat next to a big friendly giant of a man, Ronnie. He proudly shared with me that he was on his way to Uganda to get married. Whoa! Not quite the opening conversation I had expected to have with him. He went on to share his story. He had gone to rural Uganda with a group of people two years ago to build a school for a non-profit organization. There he had met his fiancée, who was working in the guest house where the group stayed. In his words “They hit it off”. He went back again several months later to meet her extended family and ask her to marry him. On this, his third trip, they were going to get married, first with a full tribal wedding and then with a civil ceremony. When she had her papers to come to Canada they would have a third wedding in Thunder Bay, in a church.
The cynic in me wanted to point out all of the challenges that would probably rip apart his dream of building a family and growing old with a woman from a culture so completely different from his own. And I wanted to make a snide comment about him being in his late forties and her in her early twenties. But I couldn’t do either. Because he was a good man. He was honest, kind, gentle and hard working. It was obvious that he cared deeply about his fiancée. There was nothing exploitative or creepy about him. He was simply going after his dream of having a wife and a family. And I had to admire the courage and conviction with which he was doing so. The romantic in me took over, as it should have, and I listened to him talk about the fine qualities of his fiancée and why he loved her. The more he spoke, the more I wanted them to defy the odds and succeed.
So Takping and David, someday I want to hear your stories. And Ronnie, thanks for sharing yours. On Saturday, your wedding day, I will raise a glass to toast you and your bride, and wish you a long happy life together in Thunder Bay.