The other day I
overheard a conversation between two men from my countries. (yes, 'countries'- for whatever my passport
says, I am both Indian and American) The American was telling his co-traveler
that he would really like to visit Mumbai some day. My upcoming smile froze
midway when I heard the Indian respond 'Oh you will get robbed'. I was too
shocked to actually say all the things I wanted to – and I still regret not
having said anything.
Mumbai is one of the safer urban cities on the planet. Of course there is crime. It is bound to be any place where there is a stark difference in the lower and upper income groups. Newark scares me even in the day and I still would not tell a potential tourist that it is guaranteed he will get hurt. There are valid arguments that crime in India is under reported, but my gripe is with the assured 'you will be robbed' statement. Even if Mumbai was such a scary place, and even if we give him the benefit of doubt and chalk up his reaction to a very bad experience – why would he put his own country down? For every pickpocket on the street, there are hundreds of poor rickshaw-walas who return dropped wallets.
Whatever may have been desi uncle's reasons, it got me thinking
about a disturbing tendency I notice among some immigrant families. There
is marked conscious effort to dismiss one's roots as inconsequential. To them,
it is savvy and smart to distance oneself from where they are from. Certainly,
a natural dissociation may come after generations of living away from a place
or people, but that is a natural progression. But even that does not warrant demeaning
our heritage and relationships. Belittling our place of origin does not make us look better, it
only shows how little we respect ourselves.
I realize migrating to a
culture that is very different from the one we inherit lays considerable stress
on a person’s bearing. We question the new notions that we accost of course,
but we also challenge old assumptions. Our very identity eventually needs to be
reworked so that we fit in comfortably not only with the outside, but also
within our skins. But in no way can that development be aided by holding one's
own countrymen in contempt. To say buying off the thelas (street carts)
on the street is not exactly salubrious is one thing, to jest about those who
may not afford better, or know better, is another. (Personally, I still
maintain nothing can beat the flavour of thela sugarcane juice). To accept that
your child will not converse well in your native language is one thing, to
flaunt this lack of understanding as a source of pride is disgusting. Speaking
in a non-native language (that too not very well, I may add) is not a badge of
honour!
So what is it that makes
one person a sensible immigrant and another a joke? I have had the pleasure of
knowing many grounded immigrants from all over the world. Irrespective of the
part of the world they come from, all successful, happy immigrants – and I mean
successful psychologically and emotionally – have one common factor – they
respect their home countries for whatever they are. I am not going to say India
is the cleanest place in the world, but it surely has one of the most
hospitable people.
We are all citizens of
the world. And where we get to live is mostly a result of circumstance. So if
we get to settle down in a new place, it does not give us the right to trash
our birthplace, or that of our parents’. An officer at US immigration was
telling us how it is not possible, and certainly not expected, that you
disconnect your heritage. A new loyalty does not require repudiation of
everything that was before.
Let’s face it. You do
not feel better by putting down someone else. Similarly, you cannot make
yourself look better by putting down something that is forever a part of you. Who
we are is inextricably linked to where we are from, and if we cannot recognize
any substantial good in our origins, we will be unable to be of benefit
wherever we end up. Immigrants are unique, and we add immense value to our new countries because we have the culture and learnings of our birth countries. But we can never be comprehensively integrated and happy if we cannot appreciate the best of where we come from. The tree only flourishes when the roots are alive, acknowledged and nourished. Love your roots as much as your fruits.
