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By Virginia Winder
A "stranger in a strange land" and a tiny woman who once had bound feet were made to feel like locals in the small Taranaki farming community of Opunake.

Young Yep: Harry with his parents, Jack and Yee-foon Yep.
About 1904, when the Wai Yep & Co General Store opened its doors in the coastal Taranaki town, Chinese goldminers in Dunedin were despised, shunned and attacked.
But in Opunake, the immigrants from the village of Sun-gai in southern China were accepted with few problems.
Harry Yep (78), the youngest and last member of the family to run the all-purpose store, which earlier had branches in Rahotu and Kaponga, says his parents and siblings were all accepted by the townspeople.
"In Opunake, because we were the only Chinese family, when we finished there we were just one of them. I wouldn't say that would be all over New Zealand, because in Wellington and that, there still might be a bit of friction there, (but) as far as our family is concerned, we're part of Opunake."
From coffins to cough mixture
More than that, the general store was a cornerstone of the community.

 |  |  | | Harry Yep: "After a while, all our family sort of turned to Kiwi." |  |  | "We sold everything," says Harry, who now lives in Auckland with his daughter. "I mean anything from a drawing pin to, I believe, before I was there, they'd even sell coffins."
When the general store developed into a grocery shop, they dropped the coffins.
In a letter to her grandchildren in 1991, the second eldest of the seven Yep siblings, Alice Wong, stocked the shelves with her own memories.
"The two shops (Opunake and Rahotu) sold practically everything from shoe laces, cough mixtures, hammers, saws, nails and fencing wire to chamber pots, tea sets and dinner sets. Also, bolts of Chinese silks, clocks, watches, jewellery - you name it they had it in stock," says Alice, who is now dead.
"We all had to pitch in and help. I remember having to churn icecream by hand - no fridges in those days... huge blocks of ice came from New Plymouth encased in sacking and had to be broken up to make the icecream.
"Big rounds of cheeses, weighing about 50 pounds (22.6 kilograms) had to be cut into wedges. There was a gadget to do it. Flour came in 100-pound (45.3-kg), 50-pound and 25-pound (11.3-kg) bags and when farmers from isolated farms came to town they would buy two or three 100-pound bags! Sugar came in big sacks, dates, sultanas and currants were compressed into blocks and had to be weighed out," Alice remembers.
Harry shut up shop in 1977 after asking each of his three children if they wanted to take over the family business. "They said 'no', so I said, 'Righto, that's fair enough'. I asked the question and I got an answer. Sold."
The start of the store was less definite.
'Stranger in a strange land'
In her letter, Alice also talks about early days of the business.
"My dad, Jack Yep (Tung Jick-yep) opened up the first grocery shop in Opunake and later a branch in Rahotu, a tiny place 10 miles (16 kilometres) to the north… that was early this century, possibly before 1908, as dad was from Dunedin prior to that. How he got there I never knew, as he must have landed in Wellington from China... maybe, he went down south to join the gold rush. Anyway, I do remember him telling us that he worked seven days a week, 12 hours a day for the princely sum of 10 shillings a week (about $1) for a market gardener."
Historical records indicate that on 15 May 1902, Jack Yep and two other market gardeners went back to China. It's likely that it was during this visit home that Jack married Wong Yee-foon.
Records show that Jack arrived back in Dunedin on 12 September 1903 without his bride, and a month later moved to Opunake.
"He must have been very lonely, a stranger in a strange land," says daughter Alice. "He married mum and left her behind while he came to New Zealand to seek his fortune. It was ten (in reality eight) long years before he could send for her.
"He must have suffered many hardships, we can only guess what they were."
'Outlandish' Opunake
She does know that in Dunedin, Jack met up with Jimmy Wai, a cousin from his village, and was persuaded to go shares in starting up the business.
"How they managed to get to an outlandish place like Opunake I wouldn't know, as it must have been very small then…but it was a great farming district and in those days it was the farmers who had the money."
Dr Manying Ip, an associate professor at Auckland University's school of Asian studies, doesn't know why Opunake was chosen, but she does understand why they opened their own store.
"They could not get anyone to employ them (Chinese people) - that was why they opened fruit shops or laundries - they had to be self-reliant."
History shows that even Taranaki's most famous Chinese immigrant, Chew Chong, worked for himself. He began his New Zealand business career by exporting scrap metal from Otago, back to China.
While Jack Yep also began working in Dunedin, Harry Yep dismisses any possible links with the dairy pioneer, who lived in New Plymouth, had a butter factory in Eltham and general stores around Taranaki.
"I don't think my mother and father ever met Chew Chong," he says.

Yep's Corner: The Opunake store just before it was demolished in December 1986.
For whatever reason, the cousins chose the coastal town that sits on the southwestern edge of the ringplain surrounding Mount Taranaki. The store prospered well enough for Jack Yep to pay for his wife's passage and entry to New Zealand.
No anger over past payout
This must have been costly, because from 1886 to 1934, the New Zealand government enforced a poll tax of ₤100 on every man, woman and child immigrating from China.
Harry Yep says the family never talked about the poll tax. "If they did pay it, they never told us about it."
Instead of being angry about the tax, he remains grateful that his parents were allowed to immigrate. "They knew too well that they were lucky to be here, that New Zealand accepted us and (if) it's ₤100/₤200 what the heck."
But Dr Ip says the tax was unfair.
"New Zealand's treatment of the Chinese was out of character with its handling of other migrants. The Chinese were the only people made to pay a poll tax for entry into New Zealand. Under the 1881 Chinese Immigrants Act, every Chinese was required to pay a poll tax of £10. An 1896 amendment raised the amount to £100, astronomical when the average weekly wage was counted more in shillings than pounds."
Tax keeps families apart
Dr Ip says the Chinese came with humble aspirations to supply menial labour in niche sectors not serviced by white settlers. "The target amount of lifetime saving of each Chinese person was precisely the amount of the poll tax - £100."
The exorbitant tax divided families for generations, she says.
"Women were left behind in the home villages because it was deemed unsound to spend £100 to bring out a wife. Boys were usually sent for by their fathers or uncles when they reached their teens," Dr Ip says.
The tax was officially abolished in 1944, but had not been imposed for 10 years on humanitarian grounds. During the 1937-45 war between China and Japan, families of men already living in New Zealand could bring their families out to escape the conflict and not pay the tax.

 |  |  |  | Babe In Arms: Mrs Yep holds one of her Taranaki-born children. |  | However, Mrs Yep, who arrived in 1911, must have paid the ₤100 tax. Jack Yep, who moved to New Zealand about 1895, would have paid ₤10.
Mrs Yep would have also faced a reading test, introduced by the Government in 1907. This meant that at the point of entry into New Zealand, Chinese people had to read 100 words in English. These were chosen at random and if the person failed, they would be sent straight back to China. Somehow, Mrs Yep must have passed.
She also faced physical hurdles.
Feet broken and bound
Harry says his mum's feet had been bound as a child.
"In China, in the olden days, like in her time, you've got a bit of money, you're reasonably well off, you bound your feet, so you didn't have to do any work. But she didn't have her feet bound all the time because, I don't know what happened, but when she was in her teens they took it off, they took the binding off and of course her feet got a little bigger…but she has got small feet."
The practice of foot binding began in the Sung dynasty (960-976 BC), reportedly to imitate an imperial concubine who was required to dance with her feet bound. By the 12th century, the practice was widespread and more severe - girls' feet were bound so tightly and early in life that they were unable to dance and had difficulty walking.
By the time a girl turned three years old, all her toes but the first were broken, and her feet were bound tightly with cloth strips to prevent her feet from growing larger than 10 centimetres. Pictures of bound feet show the toes bent right under the sole, which is so curved it is concave.
The custom was outlawed in 1911, the year Mrs Yep came to New Zealand. The ban came about because of the end of imperial dynasties and an increasing influence of western fashion. Because of the shape and size of her feet, Mrs Yep couldn't wear western-style shoes, and had to have footwear sent from China.
No English, new names
Despite her feet, Harry says his mother was still able to work in the shop, pump petrol, dig the garden and cook meals. "So she could do a lot of things, she was very capable for (having) bound feet."
Adapting to New Zealand life posed other difficulties for Mrs Yep. "She didn't speak one word of English," Harry says. "But she learnt pidgin English and after a while she worked in the shop."
When Chinese people immigrated to New Zealand, they also lost their true names.
Harry explains that the adopted surname, "Yep", comes from his father, who was Tung Jick-yep. When he arrived in New Zealand, about 1895, the immigration authorities took Yep to be his family name. So, he went with the flow and was known as Jack Yep, the Tung being dropped altogether.
The seven Yep children were all born in New Zealand, but were all given Chinese names by their paternal grandmother in Hong Kong.
John (born in 1913) was Tung Kum Chung; Alice (1914) was Tung Choy Shon; Charlie (1916) was Tung Kum Tin; Lily (1917) was Tung Chu Kwun; Rita (1922) was Tung Chu Hor; Willie (1923) was Tung Kum Ghu; and Harry (1925) was Tung Kum Tim.

China Dolls: Dressed beautifully for their portrait sitting are, from left, Alice, Lily and Rita Yep. This picture was taken in December 1927.
Jimmy Wai's real name was Chan Yuk-wai and Mrs Yep's name was Wong Yee-foon.
A Chinese education
About 1927, the family all went back to Hong Kong so the children could be given a Chinese education. Jack Yep also took the opportunity to buy property in Hong Kong.
"So we bought several buildings and rented them out," Harry says.
In Opunake, Tung Jick-yung (also known as Jack) and his wife, along with Jimmy Wai looked after the store, which had branches in Rahotu and Kaponga.
Soon, the head of the family, Jack Yep, came back to run the business, leaving his family on the island off the east coast of China.
Jack Yep's reign was short this time, as he suffered a stroke and returned to Hong Kong where he died in 1932.

 |  |  | | Kiwi Boys: From left, Willie, John and Charlie Yep in March 1928. |  |  |
The eldest son, John, then went back to look after the shop. A year later, his brother, Charlie, returned to Opunake with Mrs Yep.
Harry says that sometime in the 1930s, Jimmy Wai also returned to China and died. By 1937, the rest of the family was again living in Taranaki.
Widow in a foreign country
Losing her husband, and being left to bring up her children in a foreign country took their toll on Mrs Yep. "She took it very hard, I still remember, but you get over those things in time. She got over it after a few years and she just carried on. She had a family to feed and a business to look after and that took care of things," says Harry.
Those years when they came back to Opunake were also difficult for him.
"I came back when I was about 12 and the first six months wasn't too good at all, you know how they go - Ching Chong Chinaman etc. But that's only for a few months but when you got to know them and start playing games with them..."

New Kids: In the back row of the Opunake School class of 1938 (Forms 1 & 2) are Willie (fourth from right) and Harry (third from right).
Dr Ip says this typifies racism. "The thing is that on a social level, if people don't know you they call you names. If people know you as a person, they accept you. It happens today - new immigrants may be treated badly, but their neighbours will accept them."
In cities, there is a lot of faceless name calling. But in a small place like Opunake, the Yeps were eventually known personally by everyone so the barriers quickly disappeared.
Still, Willie and Harry faced other hurdles. Even though they had spent six months learning English in Hong Kong, they found school a challenge.
"When we came to New Zealand, we could hardly speak much English really, like in conversation, although we could read a fair bit, but not, when you come to speak the language," Harry says. "We found it a bit hard to start, but you got on to it."
Taught to remember roots
Eventually, all the Yeps were thought of as locals.
Harry says his mum was highly thought of because she was a "lovely lady, good to everybody. All the customers like her; all the customers are her friends. She made a lot of friends, although she was Chinese and not speaking the language very well…"
While the Yep children all did their best to fit in, their mother always harked back to their roots.
"She always reminded us, in the early years anyway, that we are Chinese," Harry says. "I do know a bit about the culture of China and also in early years it was drummed into us about China and Chinese culture. But after a while, all our family sort of turned to Kiwi and she got along with us and I think she'd forgotten about that and, with the business and a bunch of kids to look after, she concentrated on those things, more than Chinese culture..."
Mixed marriage causes split
But when it came to marriage, Mrs Yep was stubborn.
When Willie fell in love with a European woman and married her, his mother wiped him forever.
"As far as we were concerned it didn't make much difference. Mum, she was quite sour about it. I don't know what happened in the finish, but she was not very pleased," Harry says.
"They lost contact and he didn't come back until she die. Mum didn't like it and that was the finish. That's a Chinese way - she didn't want to see him. That's how the Chinese go. (Intermarriage) no problem today, but 50 years ago it's a big difference."
Harry himself married Ruby On-kee, who was born in China in December 1938. Because of the China-Japan war, her family could not afford to send her to school. Ruby didn't begin her formal education until attending Auckland's Beresford Street School in 1949.
She and her elder sister Pearl spoke not a word of English when they arrived in New Zealand with their parents, who began working in a fruit shop.
A jewel of a wife
"Ruby and Harry met through an arranged introduction," writes niece Susan Gee, who gave a eulogy at Ruby's funeral in 1992. "It was my father who introduced them. It must have been love at first sight because their marriage happened soon after that.
"Ruby took a big step in marrying Uncle Harry. That step took her all the way from Auckland to Opunake. In Opunake, she was always a popular figure in the thriving fruit shop she helped to run. People looked forward to shopping at Yep's Fruit Shop (part of the general store). They were always rewarded with best quality produce, cheerful service and Aunty Ruby's beautiful smile."
The year following her death, at the age of 53, Ruby and Harry's son Timothy died of cancer.

Coming Down: Demolition of the Yep store in December 1986.
Now Harry is living with daughter Carolyn in Epsom. His other son, Dennis, also lives in Auckland. Both siblings are married with children.
Love NZ; build bridges
With a lifetime of being a Chinese Kiwi, Harry has words of wisdom for new immigrants: "I've got one good (piece of) advice for them, wherever they come from; if they're Chinese…if they're going to come here to live, try to be a New Zealander...mind the rules and learn to love New Zealand."
And Dr Manying Ip asks people to be accepting of other cultures.
"The changing face of New Zealand is a reality that we must confront. For the greater good of our children's future, we should all work towards an inclusive and tolerant society where harmony and tolerance can prevail.
"I remember a motto that was chosen when the anti-Asian backlash was especially bad in the mid-1990s: 'Demolish the wall brick by brick and use them to build a bridge'," Dr Ip says.


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