14 June 1885

After eight months of traveling across the Pacific, I've finally reached the island of Oahu. I just arrived at our workers' housing in a town called ‘Waipahu’. I am one among many who left their hometown in China for a new beginning in America. We are all workers from China, all hoping to one day live the American dream. Each of us were given jobs to work at Hawaii's rice plantations. Hopefully after a working for a year, I will be able to send over my family that I left back home in Sac-kee. When the boat was docked into a harbor earlier this afternoon, people in white collared shirts came aboard and started talking to us in their ghost language. Mom told me about these 'ghost' people, she said that I should be careful around them because they are untrustworthy. When I was looking around at the faces on the boat, I found that I was not the only one who did not understand their jibberish talk. Luckily, I was able to comprehend some of what they were saying from their hand motions. When we began to file off the boat, the 'ghost' people continued to down upon us. I was a nothing amongst these ghosts, like a small speck of dust sitting in the corner of a room. Knowing that I am starting a new life with just a low wage job, my ID, and a few dollars, I must rely on myself to survive in this American society. Even though it has been a long and tiring boat trip here to America, I feel so energized by the fact that I am now standing in the land of opportunities.

2 July 1885

Working in these plantation fields has been very exhausting. Days seem to be getting longer with each passing day. The sun moves like a snail across the sky and with longer daylight, we are given longer hours in the sugar plantations. No one seems to sleep at night, someone is always up and working. I got more sleep when I was in China. The white plantation ghosts are very rude and lazy. As we work hard in the rice paddies, the ghosts sit in the shade drinking beer and talking. They just waste their time doing nothing productive what so ever. They want us to use up all our youth working for them, while they try to preserve theirs for a bit longer. The only time when they talk to us is when we seem to be slowing down in our work or if we are doing something incorrect. How can these ghost own land and not even bother to take care of it. It makes me mad. Back home we were to remain responsible for our chores in the household, like making sure the floors were swept, water was pumped from the well, so that everything was orderly and clean. Each day back from working, I come out with my clothes drenched in sweat and stomach empty. Because of the minimal wages we are receiving, I cannot afford to buy ‘fancy’ food that the ghosts eat for myself. My basic meals everyday has been water, bread, and a soap concoction of what ever foods I can gather or afford to purchase at the grocery store. There's a lot of fish here in Hawaii- I've tried to fish a couple of times and when I'm lucky I've caught one or two for a meal. But I have to be careful; too much seafood is "Duk"(dirty) because they are scavengers who eat anything. Whatever they ate, you are ingesting it as well. My family would probably not recognize me if they saw me today. My face has darkened to the color of molasses from the sun's rays beating on my skin in the fields; my hands worn, beaten, and swollen from pushing the stakes across the rice fields. Despite my physical changes in America, I am still the same person who left China. My goal has and will always be to work hard out here in America so that I can secure a successful and secure future for children and their grandchildren. I do want them to lead the same life as I am living right now. I want them to be able to work towards bigger dreams and not have to worry about helping to support their families.

10 August 1885

After being in Hawaii for about a month, I am starting to understand some of the ghost language known as English. Now, when I work in the fields I can hear what the ghosts have to say about us Chinese workers. In several conversations I’ve heard the Hawaiian ghost use the word ‘Pake’ many times, not sure what it means for sure, but if I had to guess, it probably refers to Chinese people. It seems that wherever I walk on this island, the surrounding ghosts judge and look at me as an outsider. Too many ghosts on this island, there’s white ghosts, black ghosts, okinawan ghosts. All of them look the same to me. Just yesterday I went to the market to pick up some bread and vegetables, but I got lost in the grocery aisles. Ghosts were everywhere, I tried to ask for help in the best English I could speak,” Wherpayfotheis?” But their responds were either, “Whaat arre youu saying?” or “No understand. Speak up,” or some arrogant ghosts just walked away and ignored me. Trying to communicate with these ghosts was like talking to a leaf. I felt alone, no one is my friend here in Hawaii. But luckily I was able to find my way out of that chaotic ghost maze with the help of a fellow Chinese worker. At least I know that I am not alone in this ghost country.

1 September 1885

It’s the first day of a new month; the day when I send home a check, the day when we receive mail from home. This morning I received a letter from my mom, Shee-Lin. I became a dad 3 weeks ago when my wife, Nee-Sing, gave birth to a son. Somehow, she had gotten pregnant before I left. What a blessing, a son on the first try, I still can’t get the feeling of happiness out of my system. Times have been so hard here in Hawaii that I forgot what it felt like to be happy. Some days I feel isolated and shamed by the world I live in. Nothing lucky has really happened to me so far, expect for my newborn son. About a week or two ago on a very humid afternoon, I accidentally lost my jade ring when I was breaking the ground, so that we could plough the rice fields. I started to crawl around on the ground and search for it- the ring was of great importance because it was given to me by mom for good luck. But then a farmer ghost came up to me and started to ask me about what I was doing. I looked down as he spoke to me, but I guess I made him upset because then he whacked me across the head. I still can’t understand why he hit me, I did not do anything disrespectful. You aren’t supposed to look anyone in the eye as they are speaking to you, if it’s a teacher, elder, or a superior, because it is very rude. Then, it dawned on me that in the American culture, if you don’t look the person in the eye, then you are being disrespectful to the person because are acting like you aren’t listening to them. I tried to apologize to the ghost, but he just told me to ‘shut up’ and go back to work.

7 October 1885

I was always taught by my parents that working hard will bring you to success. In my childhood, I can remember them telling me that crying does not help because you can’t see what you are doing, to respect authority, be humble, and don’t brag. In Hawaii, working hard seems to be getting me nothing but a monthly pay check. There were better jobs in China, where we could at least go to sleep at a reasonable hour. Work, Work, Work, its all I seem to do these days. If I were back in China, we would be preparing for the Harvest Moon Festival to celebrate falls harvest. American culture does not celebrate Harvest Moon but they do have a holiday similar to it, known as Thanksgiving Day. I can just imagine myself back in our small village with my wife and parents. I wish I could have one of mom’s moon cakes with different black bean paste filling…
But I must face reality, soon we will begin to harvest the rice and then after waiting a month or more we will begin to break the ground before ploughing the soil to plant seeds in by hand. Working in the rice paddies has built up my strength, but has put much weigh on my hand, legs, and back. Pretty soon I'm going to be old and grow white hair.

19 January 1886

Slowly, but surely I am beginning to find my way in Hawaii. I have not gained a huge respect for these ghosts living around me, but I am starting to understand how they work here in America. I recently became sick and am being forced to stay in bed. The plantation ghosts told me to go see a doctor, but I told them that they are not capable of curing my illness. They started to laugh at me as if I had told a joke. I could not guess what was so funny. Then the plantation ghosts tried to explain to me about what a doctor’s job is. But what I meant was that I probably had too much ‘yin’ in my body, so instead I needed to get special Chinese herbs to cleanse and restore the balance within myself. I’m already beginning to feel better, but I have not fully regained my strength back yet. I am still planning on going back to the fields tomorrow. I can not afford to waste my time in bed, no matter how much pain I must endure.

5 September 1886

Recently I have become homesick. Funny how it sounds, because the reason why I came to Hawaii was to get away from China and beginning a better future. But I know that I can never back to what I once called my home. I have sacrificed so much already that it seems very unreasonable to just pack up and leave to start back at square one in China. I have already become ‘American-ized’. My muscles have grown accustomed to the lifestyle of hard labor work, my body has adapted to eating-on-the-go, the use of technologies has become a daily routine in my life. My home is now here in Hawaii.

20 December 1888

It has been over three years since I stepped off the boat and onto Hawaiian soil. My life has been a very rough patch, but I’ve finally been able to collect enough money to send over my family. I wrote to them about a week ago telling them the news and they should be coming into Hawaii around the month of July. I sent them tickets for a boat leaving from China to Hawaii on January 2 at 9:35 am. I am a little concerned for their safety, but I am reassured that they will have a pleasant trip here because the almanac says that it’s the most favorable day to be moving and traveling in the month of January. My hand shakes as I write these words… all I have endured will be paid off soon enough.