By Darya Soufian (Hamilton, Ont.)
My maternal grandmother, or popo in Cantonese, was born on March 21, 1940, in Happy Valley, Hong Kong. Her name was Tong Lai Chun, her surname is derived from the 唐 Tang dynasty (618-907) but the Cantonese spelling and pronunciation is Tong. I was lucky enough to go on a trip a few years after her passing with my mother in 2018 to visit the region and popo’s favourite places. My popo’s dearest god-sister joined us from Australia on this trip to pay respects to my great-grandmother and scatter popo’s ashes. Popo had three sisters and three brothers, so there were seven kids in total. There were two more who passed away at birth. Popo completed all of her formal schooling there and started her career as a music teacher in 1962. After about two years of teaching in Hong Kong, she got married, left for Canada and took on the name of Rhoda Mark.
My popo was the best teacher I will ever have because she taught me how to love people, my passions, food and just life.
In January 1965, they settled in Kingston, Ont. That lasted for about a year until they moved to the small town of Dundas, Ont. where they were the first and only Chinese family for a long time. Popo had three kids with my grandfather: my aunt was first, followed by my uncle, then my mother, Rhoda Donna Yuen-Mai Mark (Mark Yuen-Mai is her Chinese name). My great-grandmother died before my popo got married so she never made the move, but my great-grandfather, Tong Ming, arrived in Canada and resettled in Vancouver in 1970 with one of his daughters. Up until he passed away, he spent his time divided between Vancouver, Dundas and Florida so he could be around his seven children and many grandchildren. After not teaching for a long time, my popo started the Hamilton Chinese School in 1979 and continued to teach for 25 more years before retiring. The next time my popo would have been to Hong Kong was in 1987, about 19 years after arriving in Canada, to meet my mother for a trip she won through a beauty pageant.
My popo was the best teacher I will ever have because she taught me how to love people, my passions, food and just life. She truly loved her life and did everything for her own happiness, not because anyone told her to and I think that’s why she is such a big inspiration to my family. My father came from Iran to Canada alone in 1979 for university and when he met my mom, my popo welcomed him with open arms. He doesn’t have a lot of family here and he became close with popo. Because she was always by our side, she learned about my dad’s Iranian-Turkish background. She picked up some traditional dishes and she celebrated the Iranian New Year with us, which also happened to sometimes land on her and my dad’s shared birthday. Up until my popo passed away from cancer in February 2015, we always remained within close proximity with her whether that meant living a five-minute drive from her or a 15-minute drive. We were able to spend every North American, Chinese and Iranian New Year together. Some of my favourite memories include her meeting me at the end of our long driveway at our old house in the countryside of Hamilton. I dreaded walking up that driveway every day but seeing her at the end of it made it much more enjoyable (because I knew she was cooking something at the top of that hill).