Showing Our Struggles

Transcripts from the San Francisco, California, USA Asian-Heritage Workshop, February 10 to 12, 1995

Led by Francie Chew, International Liberation Reference Person for People of Chinese Heritage

Client A

Francie: How can we be good allies to you?

Client A: Being in a group of all Asians, I do not feel very comfortable. As I was growing up, I felt like I was being slammed from all directions, and it wasn't safe to be proud of being Asian. (crying) And being first-born son (crying), it was just too much to bear . . . and not getting vital support when I needed it from my father. It's been so hard around Asian people, especially Chinese people, because throughout my life, even in my immediate family, there was always anger, always negative stuff; there wasn't anything positive about being Chinese (crying).

Francie: Don't stop! (more crying) Don't stop . . . .

Client A: (heavy discharge) I want to identify with my people, but it's so hard, so hard (crying). And sometimes I feel ashamed of being who I am because there was no positive affirmation, validation.

Francie: We aren't ashamed. (Client A cries) We aren't ashamed . . . (client's discharge follows).

Client A: And the toughest part was the internalized racism.

Francie: Look out at us -- do we look ashamed of you? (Client A discharges) I don't think so.

Client A: (discharges more) It is just the stupid, internalized racism we play at each other because of language inabilities, because of the situation. I wanted to learn my language, but we never had the time because of our business. My parents were totally into the business, and I didn't have the opportunity to learn and appreciate my language. When it was forced upon me, I rebelled because it was something I was ashamed of. And for a time, I got slammed as an adult because I couldn't speak the language, "Well, why don't you speak Chinese?" Well, just because my parents didn't have time to . . .

Francie: It's not genetic, you know! (everyone laughs; client discharges) How could we be good allies to you?

Client A: I think just affirming that it's great to be Chinese. It's a contradiction to what I've been exposed to; it will help me appreciate my heritage because I've seen the negative side. I think that would be helpful from other people here.

Francie: Tell them about it, dear.

Client A: What would be helpful is the idea of just the positive virtues of being Chinese, that it's great to be Chinese; that would help a lot.

Francie: We are always pleased and always proud of you! (Client A discharges some more) You can keep discharging; don't quit discharging.

Client B

Francie: How can we be good allies to you personally?

Client B: I like lots of physical contact . . . I like people to come up and, you know, be touchy, feely. (some audience laughter)

Francie: Any particular ways? Details! (some audience laughter) It's helpful for us to know.

Client B: I like the military hug; I'm not a great fan of the A-frame hug . . . (lots of laughter from everyone)

Francie: . . .Ah, right where (laughing) . . . where the hips are, like this.

Client B: Yeah, right, exactly. I appreciate it when people are outgoing. I grew up in Vermont, which is not exactly the land of the outgoing, but I've discovered that even Yankees are more outgoing than the Japanese-American people in San Francisco. So feel free to reach out and say things and respond.

Francie: Feel free to be undignified?

Client B: Totally, yes. I like silliness. I also need to work on terror, discharging terror. I experienced a lot of terror in my childhood and I want to work on that. It works well with at least two people as counsellors, sometimes three; a mixed group is good.

Francie: Will you set that up for yourself before 3:30 this afternoon?

Client B: Yes.

Francie: Good. Thank you, this was wonderful!

Francie: Eyes as big as saucers from those of us out there learning; thank you for being willing to share.

Client A: Could I say one thing?

Francie: Yes!

Client A: Along with Client B, I would like "touchy, feely" because there was a lot of isolation from touch. (another client from the panel quickly pipes up to say: Okay, me too!) (lots of laughter)

Francie: I don't think there is a person for whom that isn't true, but take it seriously. You've now heard it. You now have full permission.

Excerpts from the Saturday afternoon talk on internalized oppression

Francie: We are in an ironic position. On the one hand, we're dealing with the external world, the non-Asian world -- as Asians or Asian North Americans, or Asian USers, or Asian Canadians, or Asian whatever we are. However, in our heart of hearts and somewhere emotionally, we don't yet have an Asian identity. Or very few of us do; some of us probably do. I guarantee you I don't . . . not yet anyway, (Francie laughs) and I'll tell you why in a minute. There have been some very successful Asian liberation workshops in RC that were led, among others, by Mia, who has joined us at noon today. There's been a lot of work pushing RC into any different parts of Asia. However, when we actually sit down and think of ourselves emotionally, my bets are that your experience may not be so different from mine. I'm thinking about where we get stuck and can't stand up for each other, where we get stuck saying to ourselves, "Oh gosh, wasn't that too terrible that happened to that group; thank God, it wasn't my group!" (chorus of agreement)

Several years ago, in Los Angeles, a Korean shopkeeper, doing what she thought she needed to do for her business, shot a black teenager. How many of you were simultaneously sad, then in the second breath you thought, "Thank God, that wasn't my people!" I've certainly had that reaction since, and it comes to us even though we have been born, or if not born, then raised, from a decently early age, in this culture.

We have inherited all the patterns brought to us from Asia by our ancestors. My mother was living in China as a young adult; she came here at the age of twenty during the Japanese occupation in World War II. I grew up in a household where, when one brother was "bad," the other one would yell, "Ma, he's bad; he's made in Japan." I don't know how many others of you grew up with similar kinds of things. This is what needs to be discharged. (Francie and audience laugh) Many of the ways we relate to each other's cultures, and each other, has to do with distresses that got handed to us around particular historical incidences, such as the one I just told you about in my family. Lacking familiarity with our history further handicaps us because we're unable to go back and see what that piece really was. We just don't know much about it; we are unable to even name it. In your mini-session, I would like you to scan your memories of other groups of Asians and see what you remember.

Excerpts from the Saturday afternoon "Reclaiming Language" panel

Client A: . . . English . . . I became a teacher in San Francisco, working for the school district. There was a tremendous need for bilingual people, and here I was without a job and wanting to get a job. The struggle for me at that point as a young adult was to learn to speak Cantonese so that I could work. (client shakes)

Francie: Notice we are on your side.

Client A: (discharges a bit) Throughout my upbringing it's always been the finger pointing: "How come you don't speak Chinese," you know, typical stuff, and then I was in a position where I needed to learn, so I was taking classes. I was studying, and I wanted my parents to help me (client shakes). The struggle was that we were too used to speaking English. They didn't want to speak Chinese to me because my sister and brother didn't understand English, so here I was (client discharges). It's been a constant sore spot for me. So I spent some time. I went to Hong Kong. I studied. I've worked in bilingual classes, you know, with support in my languages. I always feel like I want to be able to speak more. (client discharges) So my wish is that when parents come to talk to me or when I see people, that I could just flow with it, and it doesn't happen. (client discharges) I can't believe I raised my hand to be up here!

Francie: Yes, you did; thank you, A. That's a little triumph that she raised her hand. (client discharges) You can keep discharging; we're going to go down the line. Just keep discharging.

Client B: My parents moved to the United States in 1965. They were both graduate students, and their intention was always to go back to India. So when I was born and my brother was about three years old, they made the decision to speak to us only in English so we'd learn English and so that when we went back to India we'd be fluent in a second language. Eventually we moved back to India and, ahhh . . . (client discharges) Hindi was just a real, real tough language to learn . . . . The stuff around the language reflecting different status, you know; there's constant humiliation: "You got it wrong, you said the wrong thing." I remember you had to take tests to get into school. I was six years old, and my mother would haul me to all these different schools trying to get admission, and she couldn't do it. I just didn't speak the language well enough. Then when I was about thirteen years old, we moved back to the States, and her survival seemed to depend on forgetting the language, so I completely forgot Hindi. Now, about fifteen years later, I'm taking classes again, and I cannot remember a single thing; I mean, it's like learning the language from scratch. I don't know where it went. (client discharges)

Client C: I think it started for me when I was younger. It was okay to converse, you know, on the basic level, but last year it got really hard. And especially, I've been watching my little sister getting into arguments with my mom because she was on the drug road and had very different friends than most of us. But just watching her argue . . . one would argue completely in English and the other, my mom, would be speaking in Vietnamese. And they don't seem to be aware that they don't understand each other (audience laughter). They would keep shouting. It became louder and louder, and everyone was getting so frustrated. They had no clue that nothing was getting across. I think I realized that I was doing the same thing but with only a little Vietnamese in it. I, too, was very frustrated about why she didn't understand me. Being in school, I've had the opportunity to learn. I think I had the opportunity to change more than she has.

There's another struggle. I'm taking a Vietnamese class right now; I've been wanting to for a long time, but they just offered it this quarter. Learning the language was just as hard; not in the speaking itself, but in speaking to my mother that way. It was strange, I'm not used to the respect that you communicate in Vietnamese or Chinese. When you're younger, you speak with more respect. I can't go home and say "hi" to her in this respectable way. It feels so foreign to me. It was strange and difficult to do that.

Client D: First, I'd like to say that it was only in 1983 that I came to the United States, so I had many years of my life in the Philippines. However, you would think that we would always be speaking our language, but it was kind of tough being in the Philippines in the sense that our educational system was patterned after that of the United States. So our medium of instruction was English, and our books were written in English, and it was only just a few years back that they decided that we were going to go bilingual. Therefore, when I was very young, I had to deal with going to school and learning English. There was no choice, because if you wanted to succeed in school, you had to learn English. I can even remember as early as the elementary grades, we would be fined if we were to speak in Filipino. It had to be in English. We would only have one subject in which you were allowed to speak in Filipino. It was a mess, because many people have a hard time learning English. It's not easy, and that's why many children would be failing.

I went to college and I decided I was going to be a teacher. I decided I was going to minor in English. After I finished college the first teaching assignment I got . . . no, not the first, the second, because I first taught in a province. But when I went back to Manila I had to teach English; that was the subject that they wanted me to teach: English literature, English composition, well, and some other subjects, but it had to be in English. At home we speak Filipino. I wonder how people survived. There was confusion -- you're speaking Filipino at home, and you're speaking English in school. By the time I decided to be an educator, I knew that our people are not stupid. If they're not performing as well in college, or even in high school, or even in elementary school, it's because the language is foreign and it's not easy. So I, as a teacher, had no choice. I had to be teaching English and I was always asked to teach English. I had to help my people learn English, and it wasn't easy. Then, because we were also under the Spaniards for four hundred years, we also had to have twenty-four units of Spanish in college, which means Spanish every semester. However, we couldn't even speak it because we had to learn just the conjugations, not even conversation. And we were encouraged to take other foreign languages like German or French. Only lately did they finally decide we've got to be speaking in Filipino.

Here in the States, people ask me, "Where did you learn your English? How come you speak English? You're some sort of stranger, and you're speaking English." My son was with me when I came to the States in 1983, and he was ten years old. Even when he was born, we were speaking to him in English to make it easier for him, you know. Now it touches me because my son says, "Mom, we have to speak in Filipino," and so the two of us will speak in Filipino. It's been hard because in Santa Barbara there are Filipinos, but I just couldn't find the time to speak in Filipino; sometimes, at home, I speak to myself in Filipino. There was one conference where I thought I was going to sing in Filipino; it scared me because I just couldn't remember some of the lyrics, but I finally got over it and did it.

Francie: Triumph!

Client D: Yeah, but this is what it is, in here.

Francie: Thank you; you've brought up a very good point -- that one of the effects of the oppression and the results of colonization and so forth, is that many of us who came through Western school systems were brainwashed into taking as our foreign language, languages that are not Asian. How many people speak a significant amount of some other language as well as an Asian language?

Client E: Let's see, so what's my current struggle with languages . . . ? I've given up on it and I'm just doing all English. I don't know anybody to speak with, in Chinese. I think it's a problem because I feel like I can't hang out with other Chinese people who are different from me, who have had a different life experience than me. I currently hang around with a lot of Japanese-Americans, who only speak English also. That doesn't resolve the problem. I used to live in Taiwan and I studied Mandarin for about two years in high school in Taiwan. I got A's, so I can still say a few things. I took a class at Lainey College for about six months. I don't have anybody to speak to, so it just kind of goes . . . . So I feel like there's a sense of loss there because there's a whole group of people that I can't communicate with!

Francie: Thank you!

Client C: I think the reason I went and learned Vietnamese is also because I argue. I have a lot of conflict with my Mom, having different philosophies in living. We argue a lot, and the more I grew, the more I'd think in English. A lot of the time I'd translate that into Vietnamese. When we argued, I wanted to verbalize my concepts, and it became really, really hard. I'd start something in Vietnamese and finish it in English. Then I'd get angry and stutter a lot, and then my Mom would just laugh and say, "You know, if you can't speak it, then don't argue." Then we'd both laugh, and it's a good thing that we both laughed instead of getting angrier. So the reason why I'm taking Vietnamese is just to argue productively. (lots of audience laughter)

Transcript from the Sunday morning Asian women's panel

Client A: It's been hard, like I was making it up or something (some discharge). One of the hard things was that I was abused at an early age, sexually, by my father. That really affected the way that our whole family was, not only me. (discharges) Only recently have I been able to remember that and been able to start moving the family away from that (discharges). I think before that, it had been really confusing; you know, I felt terrible all the time, but it seemed like there wasn't any reason for that (client laughs). I think my triumph has been not giving up on this issue, not giving up on my family, and not even giving up on my father. You know, I still am pushing to have him deal with his issues. It's not okay with me that the family is stuck there, and it's not okay with me even for my Dad to be stuck there because it's really holding him back on enjoying his life. I'd really like for him to have even a little bit of time (some crying) outside of that, and it's just real clear that as long as he's not facing it, then he's not enjoying this (laughs, then cries). I think (discharges) partly in my struggle (discharges) I've always tried to fight injustice wherever I can and whatever way that I can (laughs). Sometimes it's been kind of messy; I've made mistakes, but I'm proud of my effort and the triumphs I have had. (discharges) Another great quality is enduring, even though that sounds just like an Asian pattern that doesn't have any value to it. But I think it does (discharges). It is an outstanding quality if there's nothing else that you can figure out to do. Just standing there and saying, "Well, I'm not going to back down (starts to laugh while talking), even though I can't move forward!" (now Client A really laughs) For many years, in a particular situation, I haven't known what to do, but I said, "Well, I'm not going to quit," (discharges) and now things are moving . . . . So that's what I can think of.

Francie: What can we do to be better allies to you?

Client A: Encourage me to be angry and to keep going for what I want even though I want to give up or I don't feel like it's possible. I'm finding that (discharges) the more I express my anger, the more real I am; otherwise, I kind of hide. I'm also finding that what I say when I'm angry is not rational. I think I've always thought that when you're mad, whatever you do or say is so irrational you shouldn't even express it. (laughs) But I'm finding that what I say is like a contradiction and is useful. It's also real; I mean it's coming from me, and so I just need to keep taking the chance of offending people or making a mistake and just getting mad when I feel mad and expressing it (laughs). Okay!

Client B: I'm a Chinese woman. I'm not used to being heard or having such attention. I'm much more accustomed to being in the background -- you know, all the stereotypes -- putting other people before myself and all that. I can't really think right now. (client laughs)

Francie:: Just stay with us and don't go away.

Client B: It's not hard being a woman; it's not hard being a Chinese woman. I'm very proud of being both. I think it's . . .(laughs) maybe I'm just too sensitive; perhaps . . . (discharges) I actually thought about this panel . . . I have some things to say that . . .(laughs) Somehow it seems more like being on top of a soapbox (client laughs) . . . .

Francie: Don't censor yourself!

Client B: (laughter) Um . . . um, um . . . . (laughter).

Francie: Stay with us, don't go away!

Client B: It's hard, really hard . . . (long period of quiet crying).

Francie: Finish your thought.

Client B: . . . I can't (laughter).

Francie: You can't stay with us?

Client B: I can't articulate my thoughts; it's weird, like there's so much and yet it feels like we all know it already (quiet discharge).

Francie: (says something) . . .We are in complete sympathy with you . . . .

Client B: I think what's going on right now is suddenly there's a value placed on me, and I can't acknowledge it.

Francie: Consider the possibility you've noticed it and . . .(client discharges) we don't actually care if you get the story out (client laughs). You know, that's not important!

Client B: (laughs) Well, that's good!

Francie: We're probably badgering you for your ability to produce yet one more thing.

Client B: I'm not hiding. Best support for me is to not let me lie; to make me be honest about the things I see and feel versus telling you what you want to hear, which is what I feel like doing right now. (laughs) I think that's the biggest thing: that when I seem unsure about something, don't tell me what to do. (laughs) It's always a struggle . . . the idea that I don't know anything or I don't know how to take care of myself. (quiet discharge) I'm finished. (client really laughs and audience with her)

Francie: Is there anything else you want to add?

Client B: (laughter) We're not second-class citizens; we have our own ideas and our own voices, our own opinions . . . if we don't react to something, that doesn't mean we don't feel . . . but we shouldn't have to emasculate ourselves in order to be heard or to deny our identity. It took me a long time to acknowledge that being an Asian woman is of value.

Client C: My turn is it?

Francie: Yes, it is.

Client C: Can I leave? I don't know what to say. What am I to be doing here? I don't remember.

Francie: What are my orders?

Client C: Yeah, (client and audience laughter), that's right!

Francie: Tell us your story; tell us what it's been like for you as an Asian Canadian woman -- your trials, struggles, and it's okay to discharge.

Client C: (a long period of silence) At times it feels really, really hard. I grew up a daughter of two immigrants; I grew up with my family, which was traditional. I actually even grew up speaking my own language first (laughs). I speak English very well now, and I don't speak my own language well anymore. When I started going to school, elementary and high school, I remember there seemed to be a real distinction between family and school, or family and the outside world. I even remember my parents telling me a few times when I came home that the outside world, my friends, and the people I knew ceased to exist because I was home. My family was supposed to be my world once I got home. The world out there was supposed to be too scary; you know, it was filled with (laughs) white people who were just going to ruin you. White people were supposed to be one hundred percent bad, and Chinese people (laughs), if they were bad, they weren't anywhere near as bad as a white person (laughs). I felt like I lived in two different worlds. I felt like other people who were half of colour and half white or European heritage didn't know who they were. I felt like I didn't know either. I felt bad for not knowing a lot about what it means to be Chinese, that I didn't know a lot about my culture, that I didn't even know how to speak Chinese very well. That's what people pick up on a lot, you know, that I didn't speak it very well.

I'm acting strange. That must be because I was born in Canada, that I wasn't born in China. I grew up wishing that I was never born in Canada; I'd always wished I was born in China because then I wouldn't have this problem of being labeled a Hou-sang (said in Toi San, Chinese). (laughs) It has such a derogatory meaning to it because you get labeled with that whenever you do something that a native-born person of China wouldn't do (laughs).

We also didn't have a lot of money. I knew that things that we got were all from other people who got it second-hand, so it's like supremely second-hand stuff. We ate leftovers until they were too gross to eat (laughs). My dad would work, sometimes two jobs, and he'd sometimes bring home food from the restaurant, stuff that was left over. My parents had gotten enough money together to buy an apartment building to work at, but whenever people would move out and my parents would go in there to clean, my dad would bring home all this food that people threw out. (client stops to discharge) I mean, my relatives would complain to me about getting clothes out of second-hand stores because you never know who they come from. What if it's a dead person's clothes? (laughs) What if it's from someone who died of some illness? (laughing) That wouldn't be very good luck. And I think, well, what's the difference between that and second-hand food that someone threw away? (laughing) What about all that gross bacteria?

Oh gosh; actually my Dad still does it (laughs). One time just a little while ago, I had brought down a jar of blueberry jam that a guest had bought and then left with me when they left. I brought it downstairs because I didn't want it, and a little while later my mom went and bought a new jar of a different kind of jam. I said to her later, "You know, there's blueberry jam in there!" and she goes, "Yeah, I know!" (laughs) and I said, "You know, it's okay, it's my jam, I brought it down!" (client and audience laughter) "Oh!" she said, "I thought it was your dad who brought it down." (lots of laughter) I said, "It's okay to eat; you can touch it!" We have food in that fridge that has been brought down from other people, and it's been in there for at least a year now. No one's touched it because no one wants to eat it. (laughs) Not even my Dad will eat it. I don't know why he even has it in the fridge. It's not like we're poor anymore, but he still does this.

There have been so many struggles over the years like that. Despite the fact that we had enough money. But we also still lived in a small place, we still had to save money, not just because we had to save money, but because we needed to send money to our relatives in China; we needed to support them, right! We needed to support our relatives that we weren't yet able to bring over from China. That cost money.

It just always felt like a struggle growing up. I remember when my younger sister was an older young person; it seemed incredulous to me, but almost every other month or so, or sometimes once every other week, she'd be asking to have new jeans or new shoes, and I thought, "Wait a minute; you haven't even worn out those ones yet, you just got those last month." She goes, "I don't like them anymore," or "No one wears those things any longer." (laughs) So my parents would go out and buy her these things or buy her new toys. I would always be so confused because I remember growing up hardly having anything new or always having to wear second-hand clothes, really wearing them out. My parents would complain if we didn't eat leftover food because so many other people didn't have enough food. People in China didn't have a lot to eat, and here you are, you're wasting all this food. We were made to finish off every grain of rice (laughs).

Francie: Okay, we've yet to hear from C -- and M -- . Which of you wishes to go first?

C: Okay! I'll go first. I was born in China (long silence followed by some discharge) . . . 1936. It's the ageism; that's where it's gotten to me(discharges). In the United States, growing old is not well-accepted, even though I'm Asian. People in the United States, especially Asian-American women, put pressure on me to dye my hair black because they dont' want any gray to show through (long silence; then discharge). Well, I grew up in China . . . we were poor, but not according to some people's standards, because we were considered the elite class. My father was a professor, a dean of a university and later on president of a national university. However, there's no money to be made in academia, so we'd walk around in clothes with patches. In America, it's okay; it's fashionable to wear patches, but not in China. (client and audience laugh)

I came here when I was twelve years old. It was difficult for me to learn English. I felt frustrated and humiliated when people couldn't understand my accent, afraid of making a mistake in pronunciation and not even knowing I made a mistake. People would just say, "What? What? Say that again . . . ," and they'd think the louder they repeated that (client and audience laughter), the better they could hear what I had to say. They would talk in front of me as though I didn't understand English, but I knew enough to know they were talking about me.

It was difficult when we first immigrated, even though my father was economics advisor to the Chinese delegation to the United Nations. He came in 1947. Then he discovered his assignment would be for three years and after that he would have to return to China. So he decided to bring the family over, too. We came here in 1948, to New York; that's where the United Nations is. We arrived in June. In August, he went to Paris for a conference; then, in December, he came back and he died. As a result, we had to fend for ourselves. My mother didn't know English and she had never worked in China. She had two years of college; in her days, this was considered very good for a Chinese woman, but she couldn't teach here. She was also very petite, about four feet nine inches, maybe eighty pounds, so she couldn't do any physical labour. The only work she could find was baby-sitting for twenty-five cents an hour. Try to support five children on that! Therefore, she couldn't support us, and we had to work after school. The boys would deliver papers and wash dishes in Chinese restaurants. The girls would baby-sit, clean people's houses, and in the summer I would do yard work for people. We gave all the money to my mother, and she would parcel it out and could give us a little allowance. The allowance was not much. I think our allowance was supposed to buy our school books and clothing and whatnot. There was no money for snack foods, like candy or soda, or anything like that. We had enough to eat. During the summer when I was out of school, I would work as a mother's helper in somebody's home for the whole summer. That would take care of my room and board, and living money, too.

Then, a year after my father died, my mother was hospitalized with tuberculosis; she lived in the hospital for six years. So for six years we were like orphans -- no father, and our mother in the hospital. The oldest child was sixteen years old, and we just had to fend for ourselves (some quiet discharge). We all depended on charities; for example, the school would give us free lunch, and the landlord would not raise the rent, and churches would donate used clothing to us (quiet discharge). One of my father's colleagues advised my mother (we lived in Forest Hills, considered to be upper-middle class) to move to Brooklyn, to the ghetto area where the housing was cheap. She said, "Well, as long as we can afford it, we're going to stay together. If we move into the ghetto, the children will be running around loose with bad company. Who knows what will happen; so as long as we can stick together, we're going to do that."

In the meantime, my oldest sister had had no intention of coming to the United States. She was engaged to be married. However, being oldest in the family, she decided it was her duty to come and help my mother out. She arrived a year later and was very fortunate that she was able to find a job with "Voice of America," broadcasting in Mandarin. It still was not enough to support a family of seven, so we continued working after school. My mother was stoic; she hadn't even let us know she was sick with TB. We were considered too young to know until my older sister came. She took one look at my mother and insisted that my mother go see a doctor. By that time she was infested with third-degree TB -- actually she had TB in China and knew it. She only came here because she knew she was needed. She had used a relative's X-ray to pass Immigration, to show that she didn't have TB. Also, she had thought that in the United States there were doctors, hospitals, and all that. However, my father died. We somehow managed and graduated from high school, and most of us got scholarships to go to college; a couple of us got Ph.D.'s.

Transcribed by Gweny Wong
Vancouver, B.C.,
Canada


Last modified: 2022-12-25 10:17:04+00