And soon enough, they were. Half way through the flight, the mountains diminished, reducing to foothills until the sprawling horizon of the vast prairies took hold. The sight was less interesting now (unless you were Ming).
The ground beneath could have been cloud, ocean, desert, it was meaningless. It was a uniform sandy gray, with the exception of dirty white patches where snow still remained. A few thin roads could be seen criss-crossing the empty expanse.
It seemed like an illusion until they approached Saskatoon and began their descent. Once closer, they saw that the view didn’t really depend on proximity. Aside from the city (or a town as the family would consider it), there was really nothing there.
The Saskatoon airport was tiny, not that the family minded. Stepping off the plane they felt the coolness immediately. Ming rubbed his hands and Mei zipped up her fleece as far as it would go. Zhang was shocked by it but enjoyed the bracing coolness.
As soon as they set foot in the terminal, a tall, chubby man stood up to greet them. Dressed in a plaid shirt that was constantly untucking from his saggy jeans, he clomped over in his boots. He held up a folder of documents for them to see.
“Well, hello there!” he said in a true jovial tone. “You must be the Zhou family! Or is it the Zhang family? It’s Zhou, right? Y’all do it the other way around over there, don’t you?”
He spoke slowly and clearly, doing his best to make himself understood. It was helpful, but not entirely necessary: on their way off the plane, each member of the family had inserted their fully charged cheater, and were now receiving live translations. Their liaison noticed the discrete wire looped around each of their left ears.
“Oh, good you’ve got cheaters. Phew!” he chuckled. “That will make my job a lot easier. I’m Robbie Pentland. I’m your program rep, so if you have any questions about anything you see or anything at all, really, just don’t be afraid to ask.”
Zhang nudged Ming, prodding him forward a little.
“Um, yes. We are Zhou,” the boy said. “Very nice to meet you.” He offered his limp hand, which was swallowed by the fleshy ham of their liaison.
“Oh, well very nice to meet you, too…” he glanced through his folder. “Ming. Am I saying that right? Is it Ming, like the old basketball player?”
Ming nodded. “Yes. My parents very like basketball.”
“Well that’s great. Around these parts the big sport is hockey of course, but they can still watch it on TV. Well, let’s hit the road, shall we?”
Robbie led them into the arrivals hall where they met up with a security officer who was pushing the family’s luggage on a large trolley. Mei, looking around at the people of Saskatchewan for the first time, nudged Zhang.
“Everyone here is white,” she said. “Not like in Vancouver. And they’re all fat. Look! Fat. Fat. Look at him. Fat. And her. Fat.”
Zhang snickered beside her. “Maybe it is to survive the winter. Like bears,” he said. He scanned the crowd, and while there were a few non-white faces, Mei was mostly correct. And many of the people there were huge by Shanghainese standards.
Stepping through the automatic doors to exit the terminal, the family was greeted with a gust of cold wind that sucked the breath out of them. Mei and Zhang instinctively turned their heads and hunched over, while Ming leaned into it, laughing.
“Oh my god it’s so cold!” said Mei, yelling over the roar of the wind. “Ming! Ask that man what the temperature is.” She pointed at Robbie, who was watching the security agent load the luggage into a huge black SUV.
Ming pulled his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie and tapped Robbie on the arm. “Um, excuse me, sir,” he began. “My mother wants … what is the … how hot is it?”
Robbie looked down at him and smiled. “Well, you’re in luck, because the weather is finally warming up. It’s about 9 degrees now and should go up to about 12 later. Maybe even 14 if we’re lucky.”
The cheaters did their translation and the family “wah”ed in surprised, then gasped when another gust of wind hit them.
“By the way,” Robbie continued. “If you want to ask anything, don’t be shy. I’ve also got a cheater in, see?” He motioned to his left ear. “That way we can understand each other and talk on the way.”
Recalling her commentary on the crowd in the airport, Mei turned a deep shade of red. If Robbie had heard anything, he made no comment on it, and his cheerful disposition hadn’t changed. Still, both Mei and Zhang felt their stomachs drop a bit in dread.
With the bags loaded, the security agent opened the passenger side door. “Who wants to sit up front?” he asked.
Ming’s eyes lit up and he jumped to face his parents. Without needing to ask the question, Zhang nodded, much to his son’s delight. The boy did a celebration dance and hopped over to the vehicle where he climbed up into the front seat. His feet did not yet reach the floor.
Noticing Mei shivering, Robbie joked to her, “Don’t worry: I’ve got a heater in the truck…and we’re off to the rodeo!” He laughed to himself, and then walked around to the driver’s side and got in.
He got himself settled in the driver’s seat then turned around. “Ok, everyone ready?” he asked. “Then buckle up, and away we go!”
Robbie started up the SUV and pulled into the exit lane. A few turns later and the airport was disappearing slowly behind them. “Sorry about all this traffic,” he said. “This city is getting so busy lately.”
Zhang raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mei, who shared the same confusion. The roads were nearly empty. A few quick turns and they were at the city limits, a clear delineation between town and country. And then, the highway: one long solitary strip of asphalt that cut through the grassland for as far as the eye could see.
Ming did not get the scenic trip he imagined in the front seat. It was a sea of gray brown on one side, and an identical sea of gray brown on the other. Dark gray road in front and behind. Blue sky above. You could turn and look in any direction and there was literally nothing, just endless farmland.
Robbie was playing the radio, music where both the instruments and the voices had a twang and waver to them. It created an immersive experience for the family, but the songs were unfamiliar and lost on them.
About an hour into the journey, Ming leaned back and asked his mother for his comic books. Mei rummaged through the backpack at her feet and passed him his math exercise book.
“Aw, Mom!” he pleaded, then tried with his father. “Dad?”
“We’ve got hours to go,” said Mei calmly. “There will be time for reading your comic books. For now, if you’re bored, you can do some studies. Or you can ask Mr. Robbie some questions about Canada.”
Ming sullenly thumbed the corners of his math book, then gazed out the window. After a few minutes he turned to the driver and said shyly, “Um, Mr Robbie?”
“Yes?” Robbie smiled over at him.
“What’s over there?” Ming pointed into the vast nothingness on the left.
“Well, I’m not sure exactly,” Robbie replied. “I mean, I know it’s a farm, but I am not entirely certain about what they are growing. Most places in this region grow wheat. Did you know that Saskatchewan is known as ‘Canada’s Bread Basket’?”
Ming raised an eyebrow.
“It means they grow enough wheat here for the whole country. And more. For a while that’s all they grew. But that caused problems because the soil lost all of its magic. Things dried up. Wouldn’t grow. Then the wind would just blow it all away.” Robbie shook his head.
“It was a tough time for us,” he continued. “Well, when I say ‘us’, I mean my great-grandparents. This all happened a long time ago. SInce then we learned a few things, so now not everyone grows wheat. Or even if they do, they don’t grow only wheat. They change it up from time to time to keep the soil fresh.”
That simple exchange was enough to open the floodgates of questions and communication between Ming and Robbie. It was a helpful crash course in the region for the whole family. Zhang and Mei had only to sit back and listen to the information flow.
All the interactions they'd had with Canadians so far had gone well. They're certainly living up to their friendly reputations, thought Zhang.
True, some had seemed to carry this like a veneer, and he (and especially Mei) had semsed some slight hostility behind the plastered smiles.
But Robbie seemed genuinely concerned with their wellbeing, and Zhang was grateful that he'd been assigned to their family's case. Robbie had a natural easygoingness, and there was an easy flow as he chatted with Ming and toured them northwards through Saskatchewan.
Around two hours in to the drive, Robbie noticed Ming shifting in his seat a bit. He didn't try to put the boy on the spot, he simply announced, "I think it's almost time for a little break, what do you guys say? There's a little town coming up where we can stretch out legs and have some lunch."
Ming was noticeably relieved when Robbie slowed down and took the exit to the next town.
Saskatchewan was funny. Its flatness and emptiness made it so exposed. They could see the entire town from the highway and it held no surprises as they got closer. It was all there in plain view, with no hills, trees or tall buildings to hide anything.
By Chinese standards this would barely even be considered a village. Just a few clusters of houses grouped together, and one main street with a few older homes and low, concrete and brick buildings. A bank or two, a clinic, a grocery store, and a few restaurants in one strip.
Robbie pulled into the parking lot of one of those squat square buildings. It had a small, simple billboard out front that read, "Gorski's Kitchen", then in smaller script "Best Perogies this side of Kiev!"
"Have you guys ever tried Ukrainian food?" asked Robbie as they stepped out of the truck. The family all shook their heads no. "Well, I hope you'll like it. They've got other normal food too. You know, hot dogs, spaghetti, stuff like that."
The door rang a tinkling chime as they stepped inside. An older woman with dark reddish brown hair swept up into an updo strolled over to greet them. She would not look out of place selling dried fruit and candy in Shanghai, thought Zhang.
"Robbie," she said with a smile. "haven't seen you in a while, stranger. How's Emma?"
"Good to be back, Georgette. Emma's good. How's Walter?”
She shrugged. "Ask him yourself when he comes out. New friends?"
"This is the Zhou family," he explained as she walked them to their table. "They're gonna be taking care of the wind farm up near Prince Albert."
"Oh, the Danchuks' old place? Well, they've got their work cut out for them. I think that place has been pretty much on auto pilot since the government repossessed it. Good luck to you all," she said, sliding four menus onto the table. "Just let me know whenever you're ready to order."