An Indian’s introduction to America

“Hooker, Thanksgiving, and Pizza”

Starting at age 4 1/2, I was put on a plane — sent off to Pune, India to start my education. I was looking forward to other experiences as I was getting close to graduating at 15. I was in a military boarding school at the Aga Khan Palace, which is now the Gandhi (there is a 15 min scene of the school in the movie “Gandhi”). This regimented british military academy, which is great for your education but lousy for your social skills. You would think living in India, I would not get fed boiled eggplant. They weren’t serving us great Indian food in India at this school.

When it came time to decide where I would go to College, India was the last thing on my mind. I had a great education but I longed to be free of people telling me what to do, when, and how. Since we were taught based on a british school system, I thought of England because most of the people my family and I grew up around were British. I had already been to London several times but I had not been to America. I had no idea what I was getting into. I was scared and excited at the same time. Now, I had to figure out how to get there.

My parents asked me “What do you want to be?” I had not thought about this at all when I was in school — no time to think about these sorts of things.

I started applying to colleges and universities all over the US not knowing why or how to go about choosing a college or university. I don’t remember how I even knew which ones to apply to. There were no tips or anyone to ask. My parents could not help here since neither had gone to college. They wanted to best for me but could not help with this decision that I was making at 15. I went to a local, not very well stocked Library and looking at a directory of colleges and universities in places that I recognized in the movies and TV shows — google didn’t exist then. I think I applied to at least 1 in each of the states that I recognized from the movies and TV shows. The recognizable places were Florida, California, New York, and Texas. I knew I wanted a good school but where was an open question. The first good one that would accept me, I would go, just to get out of where I was. My parents were living in the middle east at the time so there is not much to do in Bahrain for a teenager. Working in an oil refinery as a pipe fitter and painter in 120 degree heat, wasn’t the most fun for a 15 year old.

I got accepted at a small private university in Ohio that had a great engineering program. When your Indian parents ask what you want to do? What they really mean is you have 3 choices — Engineer, Doctor, Government Bureaucrat — that’s it! I chose to be an engineer — I liked to build things. I ended up choosing Mechanical Engineering. Computer Science was an after thought. I had no exposure to computer science in high school so when I got to college, I got interested in it right away and loved playing with computers.

I landed in Cleveland, OH. It was 1 am on a cold November morning. Totally unprepared for the weather, I navigated my way out of the baggage claim. Not knowing a soul, I hailed a cab and asked him in my British accent to take me to the hotel nearest to the bus station. I had to take the bus to my university. The cab driver asked whether that is what I really wanted. I said, yes! emphatically, since I was told not to trust cab drivers anywhere. He dropped me across the street from the greyhound bus station. It was 2 or so AM by this time. I walked into the hotel lobby and asked for a room. I looked down the hall with wall to wall red carpeting and saw some girls dressed in really short dresses with tall heels hanging out of the doorways. The manager looked at my confused face and knew I was new to the area. I asked about the hotel guests. He said “son, they are hookers!”. I asked “what is a hooker?” having never heard that word before until I got here. Let’s just say, I got the picture. They just weren’t called hookers in India. I wasn’t about to search for another place to stay so I just went to my room and crashed.

The next day…

I walked across to the bus station dragging my two bags in what was wet, white, and muddy street. I guess it had “snowed” the night before and that was the first time I had seen it in person. I got a ticket to Lima, OH. I didn’t know there was a flight I could have taken from Cleveland to Toledo (didn’t even know Toledo existed). I knew of bigger cities but not most towns. All my familiarity of the US was from popular TV and movies. The bus ride took 14 hours (it is a 3 hour drive btw). Every little town, the bus stopped. I was so afraid of getting off the bus that I did not eat anything for fear of missing the bus at any of the stops along the way. When I arrived in Lima, I took a cab from Lima to Ada — a university town. It took 15 minutes, cost me $15, and was 15 miles away. I went to my assigned dorm based on the letter that I had received. Park Hall. The whole place was empty. I was yelling hello! hello! The house resident came out and ask how he could help. I showed him the acceptance letter to attend the university. He said the dorms are not open yet and will open on Sunday. This was Friday. I inquired further. He said that everyone had gone home for “thanksgiving”. I said what is thanksgiving and he preceded to tell me about the pilgrims, turkey, etc. — word #2.

He dropped me off at the only motel at the edge of town. Getting cold and very hungry, I decided to walk back to town. It was about a mile or so back into town. A set of railroad tracks dissected the center of town. I looked up and saw a sign that read “Pepsi”. Wow! something familiar. I was used to drinking Pepsi at home so I walked into what looked like a bar. I asked for some Pepsi and said to her that I would like to try whatever that is on the sign outside. It looked like a round piece of bread with a triangle cut out and little round things on them. She said “you mean a Pizza”. I said “OK”. She handed me a small pizza (which was BIG) with pepperoni (the little round things), and a 2 liter bottle of Pepsi. I had never seen a 2 liter bottle of anything. I was used to small 10 oz bottles. I just thought, this is a big country and I guess that’s normal. I walked back to my motel with a pizza in one hand and a two liter bottle of Pepsi in the other. Word #3.

I ate that pizza and drank Pepsi for two days.

Pizza — still my favorite food

I have cut back on the sodas though. After all, I do live in the bay area.