I’m heading to lunch at Big Bite Snacks today, a new café in the basement of Fredericton’s Chestnut Complex, the guest of my Syrian friend and neighbour, Fayad Al Jassem, who works there. Fayad and his family arrived in Fredericton from Syria about three and a half years ago. They are kind and loving people working hard to build a new life. It’s been a pleasure getting to know them.
Thankfully, violence and unrest are a long way from Fayad and his family now, and a long way from his friend, Othman Chikhou. Othman, the owner of Big Bite Snacks, arrived in Fredericton with his family at about the same time as Fayad and his family. Having transcended the anguish and pain of the Syrian Civil War, both men are dedicated to being independent, taking care of their families and building a future.
In a recently published story about the opening of his business, Othman told the Daily Gleaner’s, Michael Staples, through a translator, about his experience of moving to Canada from war-torn Syria, “… it’s a feeling like a rebirth. When I left Syria and moved from place to place and then came to Canada, I needed to establish [myself] right from scratch. This is a way of establishing my life and starting over again.”
Walking across the parking lot towards the door that leads down the stairs to Othman’s café, I pause, look up at the old Chestnut Building and think about how much Fredericton has changed. Back in the ’60s, when I hung around this part of town, the Chestnut Canoe Company produced some of the world’s finest canoes.
Although the railway tracks that once carried boxcars loaded with Chestnut canoes to markets throughout North America are gone, the old factory building looks much the same on the outside. Inside, though, I doubt that any of the canoe builders who practiced their craft here until 1974, when the company moved to Oromocto, would recognize the place. A few years later, Chestnut Canoe went out of business altogether.
The canoe factory is a symbol of the old industrial economy, I’m thinking, as I walk down the stairs and enter the Big Bite. Times change. So do perspectives.
What, I wonder, would those old-time canoe builders think of these spicy aromas wafting around me now, not to mention the tantalizing dishes listed on the electronic wall menu, food with names like Thyme Safiha, Fattoush and Fried Kebbeh. I knew one of those canoe builders, an Irishman with a wicked sense of humour and a unique perspective on life. He’d get a kick out of all of the changes. The Irish are good like that.
“Hello, my neighbour!” Fayad and I greet each other with big smiles as we shake hands. He’s working the cash and greeting customers, which, considering his warm personality, is something at which he will excel. Despite our language barrier, I can see he’s pleased I’m here. Turning towards the kitchen, he introduces me to Othman, who’s busy preparing food. He smiles and gives me a wave. Fayad also makes sure to introduce me to some of the other Syrian friends and family who are helping out. “It’s a good thing you’re here today,” I tell them. “It’s so busy.” They smile approvingly.
Like many businesses started by newcomers, Big Bite Snacks is a family affair, where everyone chips in — family and friends — to make it a success. Newcomers realize that to be independent and to make a life for themselves in Canada, they must work together and support each other through a spirit of community. They depend on each other for inspiration.
A good example is Ahmad Elneemani, who, Fayad says, has been very kind in getting Big Bite Snacks up and running. Fluent in English, Ahmad, a Palestinian from Dubai, who is also building a new life in Fredericton, set them up with everything a business needs, including a debit machine and an online presence. He handles the paperwork as well, which, as many entrepreneurs will tell you, is the bane of their existence. Having once owned a bakery called Café Croissant, I know of what I speak.
Colleen O’Donnell understands business. She operates Optimized Planning and Interiors Inc., a leader in commercial interior design in Atlantic Canada. She’s also a well-travelled “foodie” who appreciates the exotic flavours and aromas of quality food. As she picks up her order from Fayad, I ask for her perspective on immigration and the city’s changing dining scene.
“We have so many more options in the city now for all kinds of different food and dining experiences,” she tells me. “Increased immigration has made a big difference. I enjoy being able to drop into places like this on my way home and pick up something quick, something that’s well prepared, light and flavourful. It’s great!”
O’Donnell says she even sees the influence of increased immigration on her business in that, often, business people who move here from different cultures have different design needs for their workspaces. That makes sense. I once met a newcomer entrepreneur for whom having a place in the workspace for spiritual reflection was a priority.
Looking back to when I owned my café, a place for spiritual reflection would have been a good idea considering all the challenges I faced. As tough as those challenges were, I can’t imagine the difficulties faced by newcomers unfamiliar with our language, laws and culture. That’s why we must support these businesses. No matter how small they might be, they are somebody’s dream, somebody’s expression of faith in the human spirit. Their success is our success.
It’s all a matter of perspective.
