From: jcd@cbnews.cb.att.com (jayesh.c.desai)
Newsgroups: soc.culture.indian
Subject: PARDESH - 2 OF 2
Date: 14 Oct 92 19:41:19 GMT
Article-I.D.: cbnews.1992Oct14.194119.29331
Organization: AT&T


	Excerpts from Pardesh (Author Father Vallace)
		- permission is granted by author for informal sharing

			HOME OR CHILD-CARE FACILITY

A major reason for returning from abroad is kids. The issue of kids
is an important and serious one, and needs considerable thought.

Once I stayed with a Gujarati family in Africa. The kids in the house
were born in Africa, and spoke a little Gujarati. I felt like speaking
with them in Gujarati, so I asked them a question in Gujarati, "Gujarat
maa tamaaru mool vatan kyu? (What is your native place in Gujarat?)"
The kids did not understand the question. So I asked again in Gujarati,
"in which place in Gujarat were your mother and father born in India?"
Again the kids looked at each other with confusion. This time they
knew what I was asking, because asking for parents' birth places was
a simple and clear question. But they were still looking at one another
helplessly, because they did not know the answer. Finally one kid said,
"I'll have to ask mother." Their mother came and the kids asked her
the question. She told them the answer, and then wiped the tears off
her eyes with a corner of her sari. Because of this question from her
kids, she suddenly sensed the fact that her kids knew nothing about
Gujarat.

For those kids what is Saurashtra, where is Surat etc. are questions
of Geography only, not of life. They may know about a few cities
like Ahmedabad, but the rest of the country is like an unknown land
to them.

A foreign born child of Indian parents faces difficulties and challenges
since birth. There are laws granting citizenship of the country of birth.
But this is only on paper. One can get a citizenship, a passport; but
the blood is different, the culture is different. There is an invisible
attraction towards the original country. In other words, the seed of
rebellion is in the mind since birth.

The parents take their child to India at least once during his childhood.
They want to show his cute face to his grandparents, his uncles and aunts.
May be they want to go to their sacred place to have the child's first hair
cut. If nothing, they just want to use the facility of discounted air-fare,
while the kid is a minor, to show him India. Even kids have enough
grasping capacity, and they record everything seen in India. They do not 
know the meaning of various things seen, but they carry the impressions.
They will experience these impressions when they grow.

In a very short time the kid is taken back abroad. A baby-sitter raises
the kid. Baby-sitters are affectionate (and expensive too), and are
necessary. Cost of living abroad is high, and hence both the husband and
the wife have to work. Obviously, they cannot leave the kid home alone.
Thus the institution of baby-sitters is necessary abroad.

I have seen a Gujarati family abroad. Two nice kids. Everybody gets up
early in the morning, bathes, and gets dressed. The mother cooks something, 
they eat and walk out looking at their watches at 7 O'clock.
They have two cars in the garage; one for the father and the elder son
and the other for the mother and the younger son. The father drops
the elder son off to school and goes to work; the mother drops the
other son to a child care facility and goes to her office. The distances
are not small, and there is too much traffic; so they have to start
early from home. In the evening the same routine in reverse order.
The father picks up the elder son and the mother, the younger son.
They all come back home, exhausted. The mother cooks dinner, feeds the
kids, makes their bed; then the couple eats, they watch TV and go to bed.
The next day is identical. This is the glory of the life abroad.

The mother calls the child care facility a couple of times from her
work to listen to his voice. The son picks up the phone, listens to
the loving voice of his mother. When will she come back to be with
him? It will take some more time; nay the whole day. Wouldn't the
kid feel that the child care facility is his home?

A baby-sitter told me that she had received instructions that
baby-sitters should be nice to kids, but they should not be overly
affectionate with them, so that the kids do not forget the actual
mother. The idea made me shiver: no affection allowed in child care units?
If the mother herself does not play a mother's role, then mother's
place remains empty for the child. Yes, she does get week ends off. 
But the child needs affection everyday, not only on week ends.
If children have to starve for affection, then what use is all this
prosperity abroad?

Recently I heard about another trend. Couples leave their kids in India
and go abroad to continue earning. The kids live with some relative
in the beginning, and in a boarding school when they grow up. They
choose a good, expensive boarding, and send their kids to well known
schools (obviously English medium schools) in India. Doesn't America
have good schools? Don't they have a reasonable standard of education?
They do, and the parents know that. But they also know that it is easy
to get drugs in American schools. They want to save their children
from such effects.

I had read about drugs in foreign newspapers that the police searched
through the belongings of high school students and found narcotics.
After school, many youngesters used to hang out and give free samples
of drugs to other children. Many would try it out of curiosity or
peer pressure. It is easy to get addicted to such things. Once they
got into the habit, they would stop getting free drugs, and become
permanent customers of the drug dealers. School kids do not have
enough money, so they would steal to find money to pay for the drugs.
Initially the stealing is within the house, and then it goes beyond.
The addiction takes them over, and they do not mind robbing others.
Girls sell their body to get money. Eventually everything comes out
in the open, but usually it is too late then.

The police approached a heart-broken father with witnesses and
proof against his son. His son got addicted to drugs, and he was
caught with a gang of juvenile criminals involved in robbery,
stealing and many other immoral counts. The police was willing to
go a little easier on the adolescent, but the kid's life was ruined.

The father felt more miserable because just a year before this, he was
thinking of returning to India. But he postponed it by one year, thinking
"the son is still young, so one more year will not hurt. And I can
save a little more in one year. So we will think about it next year."

Had he returned a year earlier .....
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			HE SOLD THE BANGLOW

Shall I tell you something you may not like. I did not like to hear it,
and I dislike it even more to write about it. Sometimes a shock is needed
to wake somebody up. I don't like to shock others, but sometimes it may
be beneficial. I have already warned on the front cover, that many will
feel hurt by this book. To tell you the truth, I was myself hurt deeply
to hear this. Hence I am taking the risk of hurting the feelings of others
by telling about this event.

I was acquainted with a Gujarati family abroad, and the next year the
whole family, husband, wife and two kids, came to visit India. They came
to see me when they were in Ahmedabad. With the objective of showing
India to the kids, they had traveled quite a bit in India. The kids
were born abroad, and the parents thought that a visit to India would
expose the kids to the family attachment and hospitality of Indian
environment and thereby they would learn those values. The elder son was 
about ten years old. This age was mature enough to understand and sense 
several things, and young enough to let him speak out his impressions 
honestly without hesitation - and I saw this characteristic in the most
unexpected way. I asked the elder son, "how do you like India?" Obviously,
I had to ask the question in English, because although the boy knew
Gujarati, he refused to converse in Gujarati. He blurted out, "India!
Dirty country; All shit and beggars."  We were all shocked. I told him
quietly, "Son, your opinions will change when you grow up. Do you know
that many people from your foreign country come to India every year 
to seek true happiness in life, that is peace of mind? There are
numerous things here that you will never find there, son; and you will
realize that when you grow up. And now onwards keep your eyes open
to the truth, son." Then I looked at his parents. They had a lasting
impression of pain on their face. The idea of visiting India had
brought unexpected results.

That boy will definitely change his mind when he sees the true values in 
India. Then he will recognize those values and take pride in them. But, at
the moment, this is the first impression. This causes a dilemma. If he 
never visits India, he remains out of touch with his original country;
he remains an outsider. If he visits India, he gains only a shallow
knowledge about India; he criticizes what he sees and we may not like
his comments. This causes a conflict and confusion within his mind too.
When he remembers his own words later in his life, how disturbed he
would feel!

That's why I ask you, do you wish your son to say something like this?
If you are thinking of going abroad, do you want your foreign born kids
to express such opinions about India? Or if you are about to send off
your sons and daughters abroad, do you want to hear such words from
your grandchildren born there? When sending your son abroad, you think 
about money; you consider social status; you ponder about your own image.
Then why don't you think about this? Why don't you worry about how your
grandchildren will be raised in that society? You calculate and weigh
the advantages and disadvantages of going abroad. Why don't you account
for this too? Is it a gain or a loss? Will you be able to measure it in
Rupees? Dollars? Measure it and then see for yourself if it is worth
going or worth sending your son abroad. You say that you want to send
your son after thorough contemplation; then really do so if you mean it.

Members of a family in Ahmedabad look at photographs received from New
York. They are all happy. Everybody looks at the photographs again and
again. They kiss the snaps. How cute he is! Just look at his eyes! He
has such a fair complexion! He looks better as he grows. Every year
they get more photographs. See how he is holding a baseball bat?
How cute! Soon his parents will bring him to India for a visit.
May be next year.

I see the photographs too. He looks nice and healthy indeed. I would
like to see him when he visits India. But while watching his pictures,
I have this subconscious fear buried in my mind. I never tell anybody
about it, because I don't want to spoil the mood of those who love
him so much. But I keep thinking, "yes, do invite that cute little
boy and do take him around. Show him all of India. Stay with him
as long as you please. But never, never make the mistake I made.
Never, even inadvertently, ever ask him: how do you like this country?"

Not every kid says similar things. But one immature kid said it,
and I still cannot forget that shock. And many others do not say
it verbally, but you can feel it from their attitude towards India.
They do not return to India even after their parents urge them.

An acquaintance of mine had lived abroad for several years, and
his children had finished their high school studies. So he wanted to
wind up his business there to return to India. The couple had made
the decision and they were thinking of living in the banglow they owned 
in Ahmedabad. They had sufficient savings, and he could get a job.
But there was one problem. His children did not want to go. They said,
"you go if you wish, but leave us here. Don't worry about us.
We will manage. But we don't want to go."

For the children there was no question of "returning". They were
not born in India. For the parents it was a "return", but not for
the kids. This was a fundamental difference between the parents and
the children. The helpless, confused father told me, "at the time
of going abroad, I did not think about my future kids. And today
I have to go through this because of them."

Later I heard that he had sold the banglow in Ahmedabad.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

			IN-BETWEEN LIFE

During his first visit to Pakistan, Hanif Kureshi, born in England of an 
English mother and a Pakistani father, and a renowned play-writer, told
his friends casually, "I am an English person" and (according to him)
the whole country laughed at him. "We know your ancestors and their
native places. If you are English, we are Americans. How's that?"
In just the first visit he could sense that he had roots in Pakistan.
To make him a perfect Englishman, his father did not let him learn
Urdu. Still the invisible attachment to the inheritance and blood
relations existed. Even after being brought up in the western world,
he experienced that he had a foot in the orient. After thinking about
both the oriental and occidental effects he said, "I am living
in-between." A proverb in Hindi says, "dhobi ka kutta, na gharkaa
na ghaatkaa (the in-between does not belong fully on either side)."
Another proverb says, "when you have two chairs, sit on the floor
between them." With two chairs to support you, there is a possibility
that they may both support you, and a risk that none supports you.
In-between living is characterized by this hope for support from both 
the worlds and a risk of losing them both.

Who am I? Every intellectual faces this basic question. The answer to
this question governs one's principles, one's behavior, one's life.
When I know who I am, I know what I need to do. When I understand
my identity, I see the way. The identity problem is a difficult one
for everybody. And for the in-between people, it is even more
difficult. Am I an English or an Indian? My native place is London
or Ahmedabad? Am I black or white - or brown? Which country should
I be loyal to? Where would I like to retire? Where do I want to
have my funeral? Who am I?

This question is even more puzzling for those who are born abroad.
The first generation people going from India are still Indian.
They are Indians living abroad. But the story is different for
people born abroad. They do not belong fully to India or the foreign
country. For those children, the atmosphere is different in school
and at home. At home they live in India. In school they live in
America. Children experience two partitions in their brain. One part
belongs to home, the oriental values. The other part is dedicated
to school. The two brains see the same things differently. Naturally,
a clash arises soon. And the parents cannot help much in a situation
of a conflict, because they are totally different in this regard.
They cannot understand their off-springs. Generation gap exists
every where. But it is even more pronounced in families settled abroad, 
because not only two generations but two cultures are also involved. 

A foreign settled, sentimental teacher used to tell me, "whenever I
see my son, I get a terrible guilt feeling. When I was his age, I knew
Bhagwad Gita by heart. My father had taught it to me. My son does not
know what Gita is. When he was born, I named him Tulsidas with my
ardent faith in God. His friends find that name difficult, and so they
call him Tony. Who is he now? Neither Tulsidas nor Tony. He has two
names. He is not a single individual. I can see the confusion in his
eyes right now. As he grows, his confusion will also grow. I am the
blameworthy for that and I realize that every moment."

The frustration is that a youngster born of Indian parents in London
thinks of himself as a British, and lawfully he is a British. But in
day to day life, people do not treat him as a British. That means,
he is not willing to accept himself as an Indian, and others in
England do not accept him as a British. He says that he is a British,
and he is legally, but by so speaking he alienates himself from his 
fellow Indians. On the other hand his fellow Britishers (now his fellow 
countrymen, legally) do not accept him. He keeps off from the company of 
those who would accept him, and begs for the company of those who would 
not even care about him. No wonder he is haunted by the identity problem.
Who am I? What will others think of me? Who will accept me?

One youngster told me about his experience. "I was born and raised
here in London. So I considered myself a British. My accent was so 
native that just from my speaking no one could distinguish between
me and the English people here. I had English friends in school and
we got along very well. For several years I felt no problems at all.
But recently there were racial riots in England. "Pakis go home" was
written on walls in Universities. ('Paki' meaning Asians was an
offensive word they used.) I did not feel anything. After all I was
not a 'paki'. I even signed when they were collecting signatures
against 'paki's. I did not find anything wrong with that. I was born
there, so I had the right to sign against those aliens. Once, during
these riots, there was a fight between two crowds in the university
ground. I joined the crowd of whites. Suddenly, somebody pushed me
away and shouted, "hey paki, get out!"  I was speechless. I got out,
but I kept thinking about those words. The word 'paki' touched me
more than his pushing. Just because my skin is slightly dark? Just
because my name is not Smith or Jones? Because I do not go to church?
Aren't they my friends? Did we not play together? And now they call
me a 'paki'. I was afraid about what will happen to me next. Even more,
I was worried about my true identity. A new chapter began in my life
since then. Till that time I had been thinking that I was one of them.
But now I know that they are not going to accept me as one of them."

Every man has an image about himself in his mind. "This is how I
look and this is how I want to be viewed by others." He faces a
great challenge when this image about the self breaks. His mental
stability is at a risk in such times. "My image is gone now. Then what
is the true picture? That image was a base, a framework, a foundation.
That is gone. What am I to do now? This is how I looked at myself, and
I behaved and spoke accordingly. Still it was of no avail. What
should I say and do now?"

Sometimes such a challenge brings about successful results. Sometimes
the in-between living could be more prosperous and fulfilling. But
it does not happen always. And more often, the success follows after
immense frustrations. A common man desires stability, support,
a clear picture and a well-founded framework. In-between living will
not give these things. It is a serious problem for foreign borns.
When you call your folks in India to tell the good news about the birth 
of your son, does this question occur to you?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

		CULTURE VANISHES WITH LANGUAGE

During a visit to London, I was talking to a Gujarati friend in
his house in Gujarati. His son came in, and he was about to say 
something. But he saw us speaking in Gujarati and expressed resentment
on his face. Then he told his father, in my presence, "why are you
speaking in Gujarati with father? He knows English." And he walked out
angrily.

In another house we were ready to go out. The kids were ready. Then 
the mother came out wearing a nice sari. The eldest son approached his 
mother and said in a mixed childish cute and complaining tone,
"mummy, can you wear something else. I don't like your wearing a sari."
The mother caressed him, and looked at me sorrowfully. She did
not change her sari.

In yet another house women got together and wanted to start with
a prayer. I suggested "asatyon maahen thee (take me from untrue
to the ultimate truth)". There were many young ladies in that group,
but none of them knew it. Finally an elderly lady started it and we
followed.

This prayer from the Upanishadas is world famous. Any pupil in a
school in Gujarat knows it by heart. But the girls in London did
not know it.

Sari is a respectable and artistic outfit in the western society,
and Indian women do wear sari in different regional styles at
international festivals and receive compliments. My brother has
two daughters, and every year they make Christmas cards of the
daughters' photographs and send them to relatives. I had sent them
saris for present. This year, the Christmas card had my nieces
wearing sari with their hands in a "namaskaar". They looked so
nice in sari. Yes, sari is a decent dress. But the Gujarati boy
in London does not like his mother wearing a sari.

And the most important thing is about language. If the son gets 
angry at his father's Gujarati speaking, will he himself ever speak 
Gujarati? Read Gujarati? He knows a little Gujarati. He cannot speak 
pure Gujarati, and cannot write it at all. The original language is
not preserved in a foreign country.

Some Gujarati people have tried an experiment in Africa to preserve
the language. They have simplified the grammar and spellings of
words to make it easy. All mistakes are tolerated. The intention
behind the experiment is good indeed. But it does not mean anything.
Making Gujarati simpler is not going to preserve it. It is not
a question of the alphabet or spelling of words. It is a question
of the whole language. Either it will stay or it will go away.
In a foreign country it will go away.

Many foreign settled Gujaratis have invited me, and I have stayed
with them. I have lectured there, and had discussions with them.
So far I did not have the courage to tell this directly. They used
to arrange for my staying, so I used to commend their efforts to
preserve Gujarati. "Do speak with kids in Gujarati. Try to teach
it in school or at home. Get Gujarati magazines from India, arrange
Gujarati social events." Now that I have the courage, I want to
say directly, "all this is good to do, but is meaningless. Gujarati
is not going to stay there this way. At most you will have it for 
another one or two generations. But after that there will be no signs
of the language. This fact should be understood."

Someone might say, so what if the language goes away. English is
a nice language. Why do we need the other one? We can survive with
no Gujarati.

The thing to regret about is that the language does not go all
by itself. When the language, your mother tongue, the language of
your ancestors, the language of your country goes away, it takes
away your contact with your original country, your original
culture, your roots, your history, your past.

Language and culture are so intertwined together that if one goes,
the other follows. Arya culture can be preserved only with Arya
languages. If you want to experiment, try translating some parts
of Gita in English and read it. Could you concentrate? Did you
experience devotion? Say the same things in Gujarati. Do you
experience the difference? Do the same in Sanskrit if you know
Sanskrit. You will find unsurmountable pleasure and peace.
Language has its impact. It is congruent with the culture where
it comes from. Language takes away the culture with it. And
that is no small risk.

Let me repeat the fundamental point. I am not saying that you should 
not go abroad or you should not stay abroad. You will certainly go
if you want to. But think thoroughly about these issues before
going or staying there. Think what you stand to gain and what you lose;
consider what you hope for, and what is the price to be paid. There
are several things to gain, but the losses are not insignificant.
Look at both the sides carefully. Don't go with your eyes closed.
Don't go as a result of jumping on the bandwagon, attraction for
money or social prestige. Even if you have a genuine reason to go,
think about the disadvantages such as separation from parents, too 
much work, lack of social life, being a minority, loss of culture.
Keep in mind that many things that you love will be gone for the
sake of your beloved children. Mother's sari will go away; father's
language will go; the prayer in Upanishadas will vanish. Would
you like all this?
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			RACIAL SEGREGATION

Discrimination based on color of the skin is increasing. We had hoped that
as people get more civilized, they will treat everyone equally and live
together in harmony. Initially people were narrow minded, because they
were confined to their small world. They had stereotypes and prejudices
against other classes. But as people started visiting other countries,
as they mingled with other classes, it was hoped that all the preconceived
notions would change, mutual contacts would increase and the fight
among different classes would stop for ever. But the reality goes
against any such hopes.

A few years ago, upon invitation from some Gujarati folks, I visited
South Africa. I was scheduled to stay in Durbon for a week, so I
expressed a desire to visit Petermeritzberg, about 50 kilometers
from Durbon. Every Indian reader would have guessed by now, why I
wanted to see that place, and my hosts immediately knew about it.  
They arranged to take me there. I was interested in the railway station
there. On the platform of the same station, during one cold night,
Indian advocate (lawyer) Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi was thrown
away by some white officials. And as a result of that experience, he
started with his mission to uplift his fellow Indians, to free
his country, to make a difference in the world.  I was strolling
along that platform, thinking about the historical events. It was
afternoon, and there was absolute silence in the station. No trains, no
people around. Everything looked clean and neat. There were some benches
for people to sit. On one of the benches were the letters engraved,
"only for first class passengers." I felt miserable. I knew that
first class is reserved only for whites in that country. Then I saw
three blacks walking into the station, and they sat on the first bench
they saw. I was surprised as well as happy, because that particular
bench was reserved for whites. But my happiness did not last long.
A white officer rushed to them and started shouting at them, ordering
them to leave. They looked at each other with a powerless smile.
They got up and occupied some other bench. The situation was worse
than that in Gandhiji's times.

At another occasion, we were waiting for a bus. An empty bus arrived,
and I was about board it. But somebody stopped me. It is not a bus
for blacks. Another bus came, with a couple of whites in it. Then a bus
came full of blacks, with not enough room in it. We managed to squeeze
ourselves in it.

Even if the business is in Johannesberg, the residence is in Lenetia.
Every Asian has to commute 30 kilometers each way, every day. Why?
Because only whites have the right to have a residence in Johannesberg.
They have separate hotels, separate cinemas, separate ticket windows,
and separate toilets. Who would like to live in a place like that?

One may say South Africa has the apartheid policy. But the suffering is 
not much less in other so-called non-discriminating countries. America
has discrimination against Blacks, and England has a 'National Front'
agains all non-whites. An Indian clergyman told me after his visit to
America that attendance to the church was expected every Sunday,
and a priest would say prayers. Once he went to a church to lead
the prayer, and as soon as he entered the church with his Bible,
several people left the church to express their displeasure. Even
today people distinguish between black and white prayer. Another
story he told me was that an American sold his business to an Indian.
The shop remained the same, and in fact the service had improved. But
the news spread out in the neighborhood quickly, that the shop has
gone to some non-white, and he stopped getting many customers.
Even today there are areas where minorities cannot find a house,
there are companies where affected classes do not get jobs easily.
Even at work place there is discrimination when it comes to promotion,
and salary raises. Stereotypes continue. They are increasing rather
than diminishing.

I saw another kind of fear in England. A few times, one family
received anonymous offensive letters threatening them. Everybody
knows that anonymous letters are not important. When the writer
has no courage to even write his name, how can he take some action?
But the letter causes discomfort, it leads to worries. A dreadful
thought touches your mind. Which country I am in? How are the people
here? As such people are nice. But even if only one in a million
turns out a criminal, he can cause irreversible harm. Is there
any security? Any trust? Will the trust develop or reduce? Will
I be hurt in all this? A harassing letter, dirty hand-writing,
dirty paper, and a dirty mind. It does not do anything apparently,
but it has a lot of such consequences.

The one who resorts to such techniques is himself insecure. He is
worried himself, and so he threatens others. His fear is at the root
of his discriminating behavior. Whites are scared of non-whites. There
is no reason to be afraid, but they are still scared. They think that 
these foreigners will take away their jobs, their houses, their country
and they will be mere slaves within their own country. They come up
with statistical projections that by such and such year the number
of non-whites will increase so much, and they will dominate the
culture. This fear is the basic cause for the discrimination.

Those who understand know that this fear is unfounded. There are many
nice people. They admit that every human being is equal. But still
there is discrimination, there is fear. 

Fear is the worst curse in life.

Fear exists more in foreign country than in your own country, and it
has been ever increasing in foreign countries.
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			THE SANE DOG

A major complaint against Indians settled abroad is that they do not
mix and mingle with the community there. It is a valid complaint.
They know people at work, and their neighbors. But their friends,
parties, social life are all among Indians only. While I was with an
Indian family the phone rang. The Gujarati housewife picked up the
phone, and before the other party could say anything, she started
in Gujarati, "Hu ... boloon chhu (I am ... speaking)." I asked her,
"why did you start introducing yourself in Gujarati, without knowing
who it could be?" The explanation I got was, "Who else would call here?"
And the local people there know about this. My American friends told me,
"your folks do not mix with us." This is a fact.

When a person goes abroad from India, initially he thinks that he would
return in a few years. With this thought, he does not find it necessary
to have social contacts with the foreigners. "Why sow any seeds here
if I am going to return to India?" In the beginning, he hesitates too.
He does not know the local custom, his accent is different. He feels shy 
and keeps away to avoid any embarrassment out of untraditional behavior.
And fellow Indians are there for socializing. So why not meet with them
and enjoy bhel-puri?

Later he ends up settling there. But he did not bother to set up
social contacts initially. How can he start now? He is not in the
habit of socializing with non-Indians. He does not feel the need for it.
What is wrong with Indian company anyway? He does not want to mingle
with non-Indians, and then he finds justifications for it: if I
mingle with people here, I will have to go to their parties, have
alcoholic drinks, dance, eat non-vegetarian food etc. This is against
my culture. That's why I prefer Indian groups.

Fine. But in foreign countries, if a guest says, "I do not drink",
they respect his choice. No one forces him to drink, and he gets
non-alcoholic beverages immediately. Knowledge and usage of vegetarian 
diet are wide spread in western countries. If they know beforehand that
the guests prefer vegetarian meals, they keep special meals ready for 
them. About dancing, a lady saying "I do not dance" is treated
respectfully, and she feels no pressure. Yes, the only pressure to
drink and dance is seen in the party of Indians. There they know
each other very well. There is no need for formalities there. So they
drink, dance, and induce others to do so against their will using
peer pressure tactics. They take pride in telling the peer, "come on 
yaar! Just try a sip." Whether to drink or not is a different issue.
But the fear about drinking to justify not mingling with non-Indians
is an invalid attempt.

Another reason is that if we mingle with these people, our children
will mingle too. Sons will mingle, daughters will mingle, they will
develop social contacts, they will go on dates, fall in love with
foreigners, marry them. We would not like that, right?  So it is better
to keep off this society. We would rather get our children married in 
India, our country.

You don't know where your children will marry. There is a long time
before they reach that age. Many things can happen in the meanwhile.
But one thing has happened for sure, and that is you do not mix with
non-Indians. But your children do get a chance to mix with them in
school, before school, after school. They make friends with white
kids. This is a major difference between you and your son. You are
born in India, and he is born in America. Your friends are Indian.
You cannot stop your son even if you try hard. They will make friends
with non-Indians, and will continue doing so. Then should you also
not make friends with non-Indians, for the sake of your kids, to
understand them, protect them, know about their social circle, know
about their friends and the friends' families?

You cannot preserve your values by building walls around them. You cannot
achieve self-development by resorting to solitude. If you went abroad, it 
is fine. Be there whole heartedly. Doing things half way is a mistake.
Going abroad without meeting the local community there, living there
without mingling with them is not right. If you want to settle over there,
and keep a piece of India in your home and mind, then why did you go there
in the first place? You have the whole of India to yourself in India.
Yes, do take your values with you, your rich cultural heritage with
you. But keep an open eye and mind towards the new culture. You should
be a bridge between the two cultures, rather than an island of just
your culture.  The recent riots against our folks in foreign countries
have come up because our folks never mixed with the people there. They
stayed away. Automatically stereotypes occurred, misunderstanding increased, 
and animosity was felt. When we see frustrations today, we should
understand the reasons behind them in the past. And we should take
steps to prevent that from happening in the future. So do meet and
mix with non-Indians, and make yourself a part of their culture.

Whereever I traveled in foreign countries, I saw a narrow, restricted,
negative, protective atmosphere among Gujarati people and I have always
felt sad to see it.

A Spanish friend of mine, studying in America, wanted some information
about values in Indian groups for his research. Describing his experience
in trying to obtain this information, he said, "I received full
cooperation from almost every group, except your group. Italian,
German, Polish, South American, every group immediately shared quite
some information with me. But every Indian looked at me with suspicion.
Many would hang up the phone quickly. Nobody wanted me to visit their
home. In the best case they would suggest some other Indian's name.
But they would not share any information themselves. Finally, out of
no choice, I had to drop the chapter about India from my thesis."

Even in East Africa I learned the language of Indians quickly.
They had three names: "naagarik" (meaning black citizens), "dholiyaa"
(meaning whites) and "aapanaa waalaa" (meaning our Indian folks).
Three clear cut categories. All the population was divided into three 
groups. I used to use these words myself, and feel sad internally.

And an example from England. A Gujarati family had a pet dog. The
dog looked big and frightening. They praised the dog's cleverness:
"this dog is a very sane dog. We have also trained him properly.
Whenever somebody comes to our house, if it is a non-Indian, he
barks loudly, but if it is an Indian, he keeps silent. He is so
sane."

The dog was sane, not his owners.
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		NOT EXPIATORY, BUT SINCERE

Deep in heart, every Indian going abroad has some degree of guilt
associated with unpatriotic behavior. He goes, but with regret,
uneasiness and guilt. And this guilt increases after he goes abroad.
Am I not being totally selfish? I did not think about others at all.
Haven't I missed my duties in doing so? There is a dilemma, a heavy
heart.

Firstly there is the guilt about leaving parents. Parents did so much
to bring me up. How can I leave them alone during their retirement age? 
There are other brothers, other relatives. Our duty is to ensure that
they get what they desire. (What about their desire for their son; they
certainly miss their son.) We are ready to invite them to America if such
a need arises. Many people indeed do so, and it is good. But would they
be able to adjust to the life there? They spent the whole life in India,
their friends are in India, their verandah for socializing in the
evenings is in India, their temples are in India, they don't know English
that well. How would they like it in America? Sometimes old parents refuse
to move from their time-worn old house to a new modern banglow, in some
housing society with various facilities, within their city in India. How
can you expect them to move to a foreign country altogether? I know a
distressing incident. A widowed mother, out of no other choice, went 
abroad to live with her son, and died there after a few days. She
escaped the misery, but the son regretted for the rest of his life.
Parents are understanding, they care for their son, and they are willing
to sacrifice for him. They also bless him from the bottom of their hearts
when he goes abroad. The son is also understanding and caring, he
sees his parents' misery, and becomes unhappy himself.

The second point is about your motherland. Indian government spends so much
to educate an engineer or a doctor, and the educated people are aware of
this. They know that they pay minuscule fees - and often, even that much
is paid for by a scolarship by some community or religious trust or fund.
He takes financial help from the government, from his community, from his 
family to become an engineer or a doctor himself. Then he goes away to
render his services to a different nation. He does not pay the debt of
his debtors, and he serves those whom he owes absolutely nothing. So the
original debt remains, and he feels it.

The third thing is that he provided his services in a place where they
were not needed as badly as they are in India. Countries in Europe and 
America are considered developed nations, and they get enough resources
to do their work. But India faces a dire shortage of skilled engineers
and doctors. And they acquire the education in India and go away. They
sincerely wish that India progresses, but they do not participate
themselves towards India's advancement. They know very well that they
deprived India off their contribution, and they feel a terrible guilt.

They try numerous measures to overcome this guilt feeling. Money is a
big instrument, so they experiment with it. They send money to build
schools in their native places in India, build temples, provide financial
aid to poor students (so in the future they can go abroad too), donate
to charitable causes in India. Then they urge their parents to visit
America for a good three months. To repay them for leaving them alone,
they take extra vacation at that time, take their parents around the
whole country, buy them several gifts and send them back to India
with a quick (but short term) satisfaction. (A lady once told me that
she cried more when her parents returned to India after visiting her,
than she did when she herself left India the first time. The value
of parents could be sensed at that time only.) Next they arrange Indian
cultural and religious programmes, invite Indian artists and saints,
and thus try to reduce the burden of the debt and guilt. Not only that,
but when India's independence day is celebrated in their city, they come
out with traditional dresses (kurta and chudidar, sari) and take pride
in joining the parade and performing rituals.

While doing all this they feel glad, but still discontented. They feel
happy, because they could at least do all that, and it is good. But they
also feel discontented, because behind doing all this lies the guilt
feeling. As if they are doing all this to expiate their wrongdoing
of going abroad. A sentimental Gujarati professor used to tell me,
"after leaving India, the feeling of doing something wrong to my country 
and my sons is recorded so deep in my heart that it bothers me
continuously. That is why whenever I get any request for any worthy cause 
from India, I do my best to help the cause."

Then I want to tell you explicitly that it is good to help, but it is
not right to do it to overcome the guilt. It is not a crime to go
abroad. It is not a sin. Whatever you do, do it with a genuine generosity,
not as an expiatory measure. It is not your mandatory duty, it should be a
result of a true contentment of your heart. Every thing has advantages
as well as disadvantages, benefits as well as losses; then it is up to
each individual's independent decision. And this personal decision
deserves respect from all. Every individual has the right to lead his
life the way he wants. Do think about all the aspects, do consider
all the sides, but eventually the individual makes up his mind and
acts accordingly. Then there is no regretting, no remorse, no guilt.
If you go abroad, do it gladly. If you stay in India, do so gladly.
Keep your eyes and mind open whereever you go. Then make your own
decision and be happy.

And do at least the following: 
    Whereever you go, take pride in being an Indian, and stay in such a 
    manner that India can take pride in you.
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			MESSENGERS OF PEACE

There is a bright side to living abroad. The whole human race is one,
and the whole universe is a single family. The borders between nations
should be erased. But moving across these borders is not straightforward.
The police and security officials demand your passport and check your
visa before you can enter. They create these barriers and give rise to
the hatred among people of different nationalities. Language, color,
religion and nation's flag; all nations compete for these. There is no
trust. The whole human race is divided into pieces.

This division should be stopped. Let the physical borders remain where 
they are, but within heart, in daily life these borders should vanish.
We can meet, travel, know one another and be with each other. Contact
will clear stereotypes, acquaintance will eliminate the fear against the
aliens. This is a great challenge, a necessity for the human race. And
living abroad can make a significant contribution in meeting this
challenge. Sharing culture, life styles, and values with people in
another country, experiencing their society, being with them broadens
our knowledge, our horizons, our perspective. People are intrinsically nice 
everywhere, and we experience it upon mingling with them. Our broad-mindedness
makes others forget their narrow thinking. This will reduce the animosity
between different nations, build bridges between various cultures, and
the people living abroad become the representatives of humanity between 
different countries. In this respect people going abroad are serving a
worthy cause, and deserve praise for that.

What I just wrote is partly genuine from my heart, and partly out of
my selfishness. I am myself a person living away from my original
country. I went in the opposite direction, from west to east. But the
point remains that I am an immigrant here. I am experiencing the
good and the bad of living in a foreign country myself. It is a fact
that my mind and heart broadened after coming to India. I got benefits
of both the oriental and occidental environments. I feel satisfied that
through my writing I could reduce preconceived notions about both the
worlds.

I would not make a naive statement such as: the orient has more
spiritualism and the west has more materialism. Both the worlds
have both the things. But it is true that the Aryan culture has
an emphasis on non-violence, renouncement, and peace. The rest of
the world needs these qualities. Therefore, it will be a great
service to India as well as the foreign country, if Indians going
to foreign countries spread these values through living examples
of their own behavior, and their life depicting these values. They
can do this within their circle of social acquaintances or on a bigger
scale. People abroad would know at least about Gandhiji. Gandhiji was
an incarnation of peace in the midst of all the violence. Indian
brethern going abroad have the special responsibility that they
display this spiritual heritage in their practice, and contribute to 
the prestige of India in the world.

Indians are peace loving. The west is more hectic, more active, more
aggressive, with less peace of mind. The western life is more restless.
Overall, oriental nations are characterized by peace, and this is true
of India even more. Every year hundreds of people come to India from
various countries to seek peace and true meaning of life, don't they?
Then why shouldn't Indians going abroad take some elements of peace
with them for distribution abroad? An American friend once told me
a nice thing, "we have an Indian fellow in our office. He is always
so composed that whenever I saw tension and yelling in the office,
whenever I felt aggravated, I used to meet him and calm down."
This is an inherent characteristic. Why not let the world profit
from it?

Once in a TV programme in South Africa a white official was
interviewing me, and he was asking questions in quite a rude
manner. He began with the statement, "I have seen Bombay, so I
already know that your streets are dirty." I commented, "our
streets may look dirty, but our hearts are clean." Such a fight
went on back and forth for all the time. At the end, when the 
programme was about to end, he asked me sarcastically, "what does 
India export?" He asked it with such a mischievous face, probably
thinking that now I don't have any answer to that question, and
thus the programme will end with an unanswered question proving
India's inferiority, supporting his attitude against India.
I did not know much about import-export, and we had agreed, before
the programme, that no questions related to business or economy
will be asked. But he did not follow the agreement. Usually I
do not have the spontaneity to give an equally impacting, fit
reply in such events so as to shut his mouth. But this time I
got a fit reply. As he was about to look at his wrist watch and
signal the end of the programme, I said with a smile, "India
exports .... peace." The programme ended with these echoing words.

That is a duty. That is a responsibility. That is a service. 
That is a request. Export peace. That is the most expensive asset.

If our beloved Indian brothers and sisters do at least this much,
then their lives abroad, and my writing this book will be meaningful.