An Immigration Narrative? Oh Yes! When one has immigrated just three years ago, there can be plenty of things to write about. Unlike most of my classmates, I think I am at an advantage here, as I might just be the most recent immigrant in our class. My family and I landed in the United States on October 2nd 2010, a memorable day for us, as it’s also Mahatma Gandhi’s birthday. After spending almost 16 years of my life in India, America seemed too different. The mixture of ethnicity and all kinds of races were a welcome change to the predominantly Indian faces. The changes that we experienced in our lives are too many to count, and I can only try to put summarize what being an immigrant entails.

Living in America has always been viewed as an amazing opportunity by the majority of the outsiders, including my family. For some reason, the New and Modern World has a very appealing air to it. People think that Americans are the richest people out there, and once they get here, they will achieve this fame and fortune as well. My family held beliefs along these lines as we prepared to move into the States. Our lives were filled with confusion the day we received the letter from the Immigration office notifying us of our approved application to immigrate, submitted some 18 years ago. We really didn’t need to move, but we did anyway as most of our extended family were here and also because the opportunity to move into “America” didn’t really come on a daily basis. I remember our house being full of luggage and other stuff that we could or could not bring with us. Since each person was allowed only two luggage bags, we were forced to leave behind a LOT of possessions. Imagine being forced to pick from a whole lifetime of memories, its definitely not an easy task. The last two weeks before our departure were swamped with people coming in to say their goodbyes; with selling and donating couches, beds, air conditioners, furniture; visiting loved ones and of course, packing. We had never travelled out of the country and doing so in straight 17 hours was pretty exhausting. I remember the moment I stepped out of the plane: It was a glorious day, with the airport being lit up by the morning sun with a little chill in the air; I remember taking a deep breath and wondering what our lives were going to be like; and then sleeping for 10 hours straight and waking up at 2am due to being jet lagged.

One of the questions that I have often been asked is, “How come your English is so good?” and another being, “Which country do you like better?” These are the type of questions that no immigrant can escape. I have been very fortunate that my parents decided to send me to a Catholic English-medium school, which proved to be quite beneficial in the long run. I was very surprised after looking at the school system over here. In India, the students used to sit in the classrooms, as everyone in any one section had the same schedule, and the teachers would come to teach their respective subjects. I experienced a very different environment here, as we were required to go to the teacher’s classrooms. Since I wasn’t used to this way of schooling, I sometimes used to get overwhelmed by the traffic in the hallways. Now coming to the second question, I usually don’t have a precise answer; as there are pros and cons in both the countries. However, it is definitely true that I can never erase or completely forget my home country, mostly due to the fact that my early years and memories are associated with it, and also because our culture is unforgettable.

One of the things that I miss most about India is the food, and I am not talking about day-to-day food. I am referring to the food carts that we used to have at the street corners similar to what we have in the New York. These carts sell snacks called golgappe, which would classify as the best dish ever if I was a food critic. Golgappes are these small, round and crispy balls that can be filled with either spicy water or a mixture of other snacks. My favorite type is the one filled with mashed potatoes, curd, and some other very appealing seasonings. People eat it by stuffing the whole ball in their mouths and then slowly enjoying all the different flavors mixed in together. I haven’t tasted golgappes even remotely similar to what I used to have back in India since I came to the States.

My conservative family has been very resistant to the “American culture”, which can be deemed as “inappropriate”. There are certain social boundaries that one experiences in the Indian culture, and America is almost a symbol of crossing all those boundaries. My mother always tells me, “Don’t try to become an American”, even when I do no such thing and am simply going about doing my work. The type of clothes we wear, the way we talk, the type of respect and behavior expected to be given to the elders, are all part of the Indian culture; and we as the youngsters are expected to follow through with these expectations.

Indian culture is incomplete without the mention of our clothing. Salwar kameez, the three piece outfit is the one worn by females the majority of the time. The salwar is the loose pajama-like trousers, the kameez being a long shirt or tunic and a scarf/ shawl added to the ensemble. The other important outfit, the saree, is a drape of about 9 yards that is utterly beautiful. The most amazing thing is that we have never felt the lack of Indian culture when we are with the American Indian community. It feels wonderful to share your culture with your own people, who know exactly where you come from, and also your mindset. Our Indian community in America mostly gets together on Sundays, after church. Even though the atmosphere might be different from India, there is at least a semblance of our culture, which makes us feel connected.

This picture was taken at Taj Mahal, after we had given our interview for our immigration at the US embassy. My mom and sister are wearing salwar kameez.

We consider ourselves very lucky in terms of our immigration. In just a span of three years, we have been able to settle well. My parents got decent paying jobs; we have two cars in the family; my sister got into a pharmacy program; and despite not studying here I got into Macaulay. Five years ago, we had never even thought that we could ever be settling down in America. However, it has happened and it is undeniably the biggest decision of our lives, and only time will tell whether it was the best one we ever made.