Photo Essay: Golden Mountain.

GOLDEN MOUNTAIN
by
Carl Kuntze

San Francisco’s mist shrouded hills were visions of hope for seasick Chinese coolies emerging from bleak holds of overloaded Pacific trading vessels. Booking the cheapest berths in fourmasters, it didn’t matter that the jobs awaiting them in the California coast were extremely hazardous. Laying tracks for the intercontinental railroad, across hostile terrain. Scorching deserts, steep mountain ranges, and vengeful Indians failed to daunt their spirits.
San Francisco was Jiu Jin Zhan (Golden Mountain), Gum Zhan, in Cantonese. Their only hope to earn enough to remit to their starving families in famine-stricken China. For a few, it represented a fresh start in a new land.

They were followed by Japanese farmers, and demolition specialists, later in the century . Then, Filipinos from a recently acquired colony. Arabs ands Indians later pursued them in similar search for opportunity denied them in their own countries. For security and comfort, they congregated into districts of similar ethnicity, building private enclaves of their own. Straddling downtown and the nightclub district, a community blossomed into Chinatown, a fortuitous proximity that made this crowded ghetto one of the most expensive in the city. No less valuable was Japantown, that once occupied the area from
Geary well into the Marina. Filipinos, with their particular affinity for Hispanics, gravitated into the Mission district. Other ethnic groups formed their own societies.

Hard-working and law-abiding, these Asians earned responsible and productive positions within their communities. Not only did they reinforce the economic backbone of the city, but enriched the culture immeasurably. They made San Francisco a truly cosmopolitan society. At no other time does this become visible than during traditional festivals, retrieved from their original countries..Similar festivities are held in many American cities, where the Asian presence is felt, but they pale to those celebrated in this city of the Golden Mountain. For here, the city literally gives its heart, ceding the center of town as venue for these celebrations, with civic leaders actively participating. Major streets are
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blocked off to accommodate elaborate processions, matching in scope those of any large Asian city.

These formal tributes to their contributions washes away old conflicts, and assures each Asian American of his just claim in being part of the colorful tapestry of its turbulent history. In the fading chill of winter, Chinese New Year brings the dragon out, convulsed by firecrackers, writhing through Chinatown’s alleys into Market Street, leading a massive parade not strictly confined to Chinese participants.

Japanese Taiko drums echo through the streets to announce The Cherry Blossom Festival during midspring, leading floats with beauty queens, as well as graceful dancers, in costumes of native Japan, delicately gliding through the wide modern streets.

The Hispanics recreate Karnaval from both European and South American influences,
its masked marchers, dressed in colorful plumes, equally as boisterous as those of Rio De Janeiro, Brazil, Switzerland, or Germany. Other ethnic groups would devise their own benedictions. For this is America, and despite the exotic trappings, these brilliant fiestas are for all to enjoy, regardless of race, or cultural heritage.