East Meets West

"Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, tho’ they come from the ends of the earth!" - Rudyard Kipling.

I am married to a software developer. And, if you’re wondering why I’m mentioning this, as if it were some kind of an achievement, let me clarify. Being married to an IT professional means that, somewhere along the way, you are going to live in another country. That country for me was America. My husband was very keen on working in the USA. It was a great career opportunity for him. "It is the place to be!" he said to me emphatically, "It is where all the action is, baby!" It was his dream to work in the Silicon Valley of USA.

My husband’s enthusiasm was infectious. I couldn’t help but smile at the sparkle in his eyes, as he talked about it. However, I wasn’t sure what it would mean for me. I was excited at the thought of being able to see another country, but living there was an entirely different matter. I had heard a lot of things about America, and I must admit, not all of them were positive. I wondered if I would be able to adapt to the American culture. Or would I end up being a victim of the much talked about "culture shock". Also, I would be living there on an H-4 visa (i.e. a dependent visa), which meant I wouldn’t be able to work (outside the home). Would it drive me completely up the wall? I wasn’t sure. I decided to stop worrying, and take the plunge. I had never dreamed of being able to visit another country, let alone live there. This was a golden opportunity to do so.

The first step was to go to the US Consulate for our visa approval. We reached our destination late in the night, and woke up early in the morning. We arrived at the consulate at 6:00 am sharp, which meant we were really late! There were already a hundred people in the line. The consulate opened at 9:00 am, but it didn’t look like we had much of a head start. After standing in the line for over three hours, the gates of the consulate finally opened. By 11:00 am, we made it inside. I heaved a sigh of relief, but soon realized that it was premature. Upon entering the consulate premises, we were herded like cattle into a cage-like structure. We stood there for another three hours, as the line inched forward excruciatingly slowly. There was nowhere to sit, nothing to eat or drink, and it was so crowded that there was hardly enough air to breathe.

As the sun climbed higher, the temperatures began to soar. People were crushed together inside the human cage, and sweating like pigs (which is the only way to describe it, however gross it might sound). Suddenly, there was commotion in a section of the crowd, and I heard someone shouting, "Water! Water! Somebody please get some water!" News followed that a fellow visa-seeker had fainted from the sheer thirst, hunger, heat, and lack of oxygen. A couple of other people fainted too (and that is not an exaggeration), and many more seemed to be on the verge of doing so. Hearing all the noise, some people working at the consulate came over to see what was happening, and realized that it would be wise to get us some water. To our tremendous relief, within half an hour, we spotted a guy handing out mineral-water bottles for money. It was the best thing I had seen all morning. I gulped down a bottle of water (praying I would not have to go to the restroom anytime soon, because there was no way of getting out of "the cage". I hoped the profuse sweating would take care of that). Soon, I heard that the people who had fainted had regained consciousness.

At last it was our turn at the visa counter. Hair disheveled, clothes crumpled, we stood in a line of ten people. One by one, each aspirant walked tentatively towards the immigration officer, who sat behind a bulletproof glass window looking rather stiff and bored (though not hot, mind you, as this section of the building was air-conditioned). Soon, we stood before the self-important white man, looking down his nose at us, eyes turning to slits, as he scrutinized us from head to toe. I wished I were not looking like I had just been through a slaughter house. It did little to boost my confidence. Then, thankfully, the man looked down at his desk to scrutinize our papers, instead of us. When he looked up again, I realized my heart was pounding with anticipation. I tried unsuccessfully to gauge what the look on his face meant, and then he said, "Everything looks fine. You can go ahead and make the payment."

My husband left for America before me. I followed after a couple of months. This is standard procedure for a couple who’s heading out to a foreign country. Something about the husband settling down, before the wife comes and creates havoc in his life. You wouldn’t believe the things I packed in my bags. My husband had instructed me to bring some things, which he had been unable to find there. "Get a pressure cooker," he said, "and don’t forget the tawa." He also wanted a stock of medicines for common ailments, as he was still unfamiliar with the American brands, and didn’t feel very comfortable taking them. "Everything else if fine," he said, "I have found an Indian store where you get atta, and rice, and dal, and masalas, so you don’t have to carry any of that." Still, I carried as much as I could, like I was going to live in a jungle, or a deserted island. And, our mothers were even more paranoid. They stuffed my bags with home-made food, hoping we would survive on it, for at least a little while, if nothing else. Well, suffice it to say that I carried everything in my bags, other than the things that were not allowed on board the plane, or were illegal.

Finally, it was time for me go. I boarded the plane to America. I took the Pacific route to reach the west coast of USA, with a stop-over in Singapore. After 24 hours of travel, I landed at SFO, San Fransisco International airport, California, USA. I had reached my new home. It was time to begin a new chapter in my life.