NRI Maami

Every desi that lives here, goes through what can be mind-numbingly boring at the very least, before they visit India - India shopping. No, I am not going to India anytime now.. Sigh! What prompted me to write about this, is the insanely long shopping list I sent to my mother, so she could pack up one of those bulging suitcases that came with my brother this weekend.

So, what is all the deal about. There was a time when, you got stuff in the US, that you didn’t find in India. My peripa (uncle) who moved here about 26 years ago, came home only once in 4 years, called my grandmother once in a month, and called us once in 6 months (perhaps). But when he came home, and opened up his suitcase, we saw a lot of things, we didn’t normally see.

1. Bic Use and throw Pens: Those were very novel when we first saw them, because around then, I used to use those fat ink pens, which had see through ink chambers, and you needed a dropper to fill up. If you got careless, you would overfill them and spill blue ink all over the place. If you were rough with the pen, you might break the nib, and if you were forgetful (like my father), you could put it in your pocket without putting the cap on, and come back home with a big blue patch on your shirt.

2. Disposable Razors: My father and grandfather had a 7 o’clock Edjtech (or something like that) blade, which they carefully handled, put it back in it’s case after every use, until it got dull as a blade of grass. These bright yellow disposable razors, seemed like such a convenient alternative.

3. Hair spray: My uncle always bought me hair spray. To this date, I’ve never really figured out what to do with it. But I tried using it for what it was worth, and found that the results were quite abominable. My hair was no longer smooth and shiny the way it was supposed to be.

4. T-shirts: Bright colored t-shirts that had american basketball, football and baseball team names on them. Of course, we had no clue what the cubs or the bears meant - just thought it was a cool t-shirt and wore it till we outgrew it and then handed it down to cousins who took it all starry-eyed.

5. Crockery: Pyrex and Corningware dishes were so cool. Nobody ever used anything other than the boringly sparkling stainless steel those days. So anything that was glass or porcelein was ‘fashionable’ and ‘classy’. Though my mother was an exception, I doubt if many people really knew how to bake or had an oven for that matter.

6. Shampoos, Moisturizers: Huge bottles of colorful and good-smelling shampoos were always welcome and used till the last drop. Shampoos were so much easier than the yucky ’shikha’ powder that stuck to everything and was such a pain to wash off. If at all we bought shampoo in India, we only bought the small sachets from which we squeezed out every last drop to manage to get all our hair shampooed.

7. Electric Razors, Hair dryers, toasters, etc: All of this always left you feeling bad. With the converters that were so rarely available those days, these appliances would moderately perform for a couple of months, and then one of the two things - appliance or adapter would conk off and you were left with a whole bunch of useless appliances.

So all of these things and more.. made us look forward to the huge bulging suitcases that came from America. Now that everybody has at least one son or daughter settled in the US, and also because India has become so much of an America itself, buying gifts for people in India is clearly one of the most difficult things to do. Whatever you think of buying is already available in India. In some cases, it’s made in India and sent to the US. In other cases, it’s cheaper or better in India than in the US.

So, when you go to Wal-Mart and stand there by the Home appliances, or Home Decor, or Kitchen aisle, wondering what it is that perhaps your aunt or niece or cousin needs from here, you’re probably right when you think, that they have everything they need except you who are standing at a Wal-mart aisle half way across the world. But when someone in India is standing at one end of Pondy bazaar, wondering what in the world someone who earns in $$ in America needs from those dirty shacks on the roadside, it’s a whole different story - there are endless possibilities.

I turned a year older last week and I didn’t feel as excited as I usually do when the day started. I knew there was no surprise gift from my husband, because he had let me choose my own gift. I guessed I would not have any surprise parties either because I had just had one the previous year. I had to go to work and had a lot of work lined up for the day. I had picked up a new set of clothes a week earlier while grocery shopping at Sam’s club. So, nothing exciting happened. I was beginning to feel that may be I had finally grown out of the birthday excitement age group.

However, it was not to remain so. Our good friends and my brother in law and his wife surprised me, by first leading me to beleive that they had planned a surprise which had flopped because one of them couldn’t get there in time, and then when I had let down my guard, they ended up surprising me anyway. So, we started with a cake cutting, ate samosas, gulab jamuns and ended with pizza.

So, thank you Fa for always remembering but pretending to forget, to P for sitting through it patiently because I know how much you hate this stuff, to S for singing ‘happy birthday’ so beautifully (you have definitely improved over the past 3 years), to V for the beautiful card and the personal note in it, to the other V for the 80 gulab jamuns that you took the trouble to make and to dear husband and dear daughter for being the special people that they are.

Thank you for making me realize I am not so old after all.. and to all you folks who weren’t a part of the birthday bash and are bored of the vote of thanks addressed to alphabetized folks, chill.. I promise the next post will be better.

When I was a fresh off the boat desi, I was quite amused by the friendliness of americans in spite of being perfect strangers. They would smile at you, comment on the weather, hurriedly enquire on how you were doing as they jogged past you on the sidewalk. In stark contrast, I noticed that desis just saw right through you - as if you did’nt exist. Unlike now, at that point of time I was quite oblivious to the ins and outs of desi behaviour in the US. But soon enough, I learnt to be stone-faced when I faced other desis and appear friendly to non-desis. Asian (not south asian) people are an exception here, and due to my limited knowledge of their characteristics, I am quite unable to explain their reason for being stone-faced.

Indian stone-facedness has a reason. I learnt it the hard way. During the first one or two months in the US, I seemed to fall victim more than once to the uncharacteristicly stranger-desi-friendly desis. The first time, my friend A (who had been around 3 years and still didn’t know) and I were at Kohl’s looking around. A desi lady and her 5 year old daughter commented on how pretty my red embroidered kurti was and got to talking about which part of India etc.. etc.. In my over-enthusiasm to make new friends, I was very happy to exchange numbers with her. In a week, she called me and enquired if I would be interested in making more money on the internet. I pressed for more details and was surprised to see that no further information was forthcoming. I told her I would talk to my husband and get back, and when I told him, he told me this was one of those Amway kind of schemes. I was never interested in that kind of thing and so the next time she called, I politely declined saying I had found a job and didn’t have time. But, this lesson was not enough. In a few weeks, I saw a desi lady at Sams club with her twin little boys. The kids were so cute, that I was watching them and (by mistake) returned the mother’s smile. That was an invitation for her to trap me. She came over spoke very sweetly, said she was working in the IT industry in downtown Chicago, and commented on how her sister had the same name as me, etc..  The fact that she was in the IT industry somehow convinced me that she wasn’t one of those marketing types, so I gladly gave her my phone number when she asked. Soon enough she called me and asked if I was interested in trying out some beauty products and that her friend was going to display it at her home etc. Should have know it’s one of those Avon marketing schemes. So I told her right away that I wasnt interested in any of these marketing schemes. Since then, I’ve been really careful not to appear like I have any interest in desis around me, and I’ve learnt to put on my best stone-face when I see them. Our latest experience was however hard to avoid. The couple out of nowhere called out loudly “Madrasaaa?” at JCPenney and eagerly told us what they do and spoke to my daughter as if they were her ‘god parents’. My husband and I knew something was fishy but because we didn’t want to snub them, gave them our phone number, but we have been careful since then not to pick up their call. After all the conversation did end with “I will get in touch with you, my friend is doing some market research, so you might be able to help”.

Unfortunately, we could end up being really rude to the genuinely friendly people. We almost did that to one couple (P & S) who wanted to talk to us because they had just moved to our apartment community and hadn’t found any indians around. Fortunately, they were quite persistent and we soon found that they had no evil intentions. They are now very good friends of ours.

So much for kinship..

I recently read this post by Bikerdude, and instantly identified him to be my kind - the kind that has lived in many different places, and speaks more than one indian language.

In India, I lived in 4 cities in 22 years, regularly visited one other. I liked all the places I lived in for different reasons, and therefore don’t really think any one place to be a favorite over another.

During the four years that we spent living in the ’Kongunadu’ of Tamil Nadu, I was often asked a most baffling question - ‘Onga native ennanga?’, to which I wish I had a simple one-word reply, but unfortunately didn’t. This is how it would it go from there..

Me: Well.. I finished my schooling in Hyderabad… (and before I finished)..

They: Oh.. Teluguvaa..? You speak such good tamil though.. (already wondering how..)

Me: Oh..well, I am actually Tamilian..

They: Appdiya.. Appo onga “NATIVE” edhunga?

Me: I don’t have a native place. My father grew up in many places, but you could say he is a native of Bangalore. (Before they jump to the next assumption..), but he is not a kannadiga, he is a tamilian too.  My mother is from Salem, but I’ve never lived in either Salem or Bangalore, so technically, I cannot be called a native of those places.

They: Well, then your native place is Hyderabad… I guess..

Me: Um.. well.. we moved out of Hyderabad last year, and we have no ties with the place anymore. No family there anymore.

They: (By now utterly confused, at the prospect that there could be a person without a native place).. Appo.. Did your father work in a bank?

Me: No, he is not a bank officer. He just changed jobs (and not every year), just once every 8 years may be.

So, I spent 4 years in Kongunaadu, and then moved to Chennai for the second time. Realized nothing had changed since the 80s - still no water, still too hot and humid. I worked there, got married and lived there for a year before we moved to the US.

Now that I am not in India anymore, I am still asked questions about where I am from - and because I’ve decided that the last place I’ve lived in is to be henceforth my native place, I used ‘Chenna’ to anwer the darned question.

Other desis I meet here (including my husband), often reminisce about their favourite hometowns (chennai, bangalore, hyderabad, etc.). I have very good memories, but spread across all these places, and therefore there are times when I never feel completely Madrasi or Hyderabadi or Kongu.

The perception of ‘back home’ or India for most desis here usually means Chennai, Bangalore or Hyderabad (wherever they belong), but for me, it is hard to choose one place over another. For me India is, not any one city or place. To me ‘back home’ means just India where I will be closer to my family and friends, wherever in India that might be. It is the feeling of getting off a plane and smelling the myriad of smells, hearing the cacophony of porters and taxiwallas, feeling the heat when it’s hot and the cold when it’s cold, seeing the crowds of people going about their business (and others),  those gigantic posters of politicians and super starts, be it Pondy bazar, Commercial street or Oppanakara veedhi.

Hmmm.. India…

..Continued from The species called ‘Desi consultant’ - Part 2.

I have putting off writing the 3rd and probably final part of this series not only because I have been fairly preoccupied on suddenly finding myself on bench, but also because there are so many random thoughts that I’ve not quite been able to get it organized into a coherent piece. So here goes one more attempt.

There really is no career strategy when it comes to desi consulting. You follow the money and go where it leads you. If you don’t have or do what it takes, then you might just end up on bench for long periods of time, where you begin to doubt the purpose of your existence etc.. So, when you encounter such hurdles as unsuitability or under-qualification or inexperience, with the help of able specimens from the species called ‘desi recruiters’ (they deserve not a blog series but a book by themselves), you cross all hurdles by using several proven methods to reach goal green!

To start with, one has to reconcile to the fact that there is no moral high ground here. Here are some qualities that hold us all in good stride:

1. Writing in circles 

One should be adept not at the technology they claim to be experts at but at knowing how best to rephrase and re-rephrase their resumes, so that they appear to be a tailor-made candidate for the requirement in hand. Of course, clients know better than to trust resumes, so they ask for an interview (on the phone), and when that happens, the desi consultants secondary set of skills come into play.

2. Talking in ellipses and circles (also called Dumeel quotient):

That of talking not in circles, but big ellipses and circles and that upon completion of the answer to his question, the interviewer is invariably confused into the belief that what the desi consultant said was probably right.

3. Impersonability:

Those that have below average dumeel quotient might have to walk the extra mile and be prepared to donate their identity temporarily to an impersonator who either has a good dumeel quotient or has good technical quotient at the skills required. That means they will have to get somebody else to impersonate them on the phone during the interview. Of course, this means that one has to be prepared to throw all nagging thoughts of being straightforward to the winds.

4. Networkability

Once settled at a project, that you were not qualified to do in the first place, you summon your skills at networking. All the contacts you made at the alumni association, Sunday temple visits, grocery store visits and boring parties, are put to the test. These people act as your 24×7 call centre. A call to your senior from college that says “Anna.. have you worked on this?” (to be aptly translated to Telugu in most cases), will solve your problem as you hang on to the phone on the one hand, and do the necessary stuff with the other.

And this is how, most of us survive and make our money. If we still do this, and have a reputation for pretty much running the technology consulting industry in this country, it is because we are smart and we know how to adapt to our surroundings at the same time adding value to our customers and to our bank accounts.

What does everyone say? Correctaaa?

..Continued from Part 1

So all of these desi consultants get to the US with aspirations of a new life in a new country. Inspite of being well-acquainted with at least half a dozen people in the US who do similar jobs, most fresh off the boat desis are never really prepared for the ground reality.

Some of thoughts that cross their mind about life in America:

1. How difficult it is to actually cook a decent meal, and how easy it was with Muniyandi Vilas and Saravana Bhavan round the corner.

2. How difficult it is to clean a kitchen and keep track of laundry, especially in a place like the company guest house.

3. How ‘EVERYTHING’ is available at the Indian store and it was such a waste to carry kadugu, molagu all the way from India.

4. On closer inspection, how ‘EVERYTHING’ even though available in the Indian store, is so totally expensive. It’s a good thing he bought atleast the kadugu, molagu from Murugan stores.

5. How to buy or rent anything significant, one needs a credit history in this country.

6. Because of 4, and since renting a place is so difficult too (5), may be I should bring my family here after 6 months instead of the original plan of 3 months.

7. How America looks like Times square only in Times square and so rural everywhere else.

8. How all the stuff their american relatives got them was mostly bought at the dollar store.

9. How useless the Rs.3000 jacket they got from India is for the winter here

10. How a car felt like a necessity he could not yet afford and how much he missed the crowded buses and frustrating auto-drivers in India.

Anything else? Next post on career aspirations for a desi consultant..