Pity and Racism
Chapter 37 of Hold On:Berkeley Social Club 2017
(N.B. I’m writing a novel, a chapter a week, here on Medium. Find out why I write here, start from Chapter 1 here, and always feel free to give me feedback in the comments. I write here for the community.)
At the Berkeley Social Club, on a particularly busy Saturday evening, Sana asked Ahmad what kind of wine he would like to drink. This was the second time on the same day that Sana had caught him off guard.
Arriving at the Club, he had been unable to find her and realized later, it was because he could not recognize her in the lilac bodycon dress she had on. He played it off, and greeted Sana with his usual candor, but in the back of his mind, he registered alatent disapproval. It felt to him like Sana had taken on too much of the West’s culture as her own.
“Oh, I don’t drink,” Ahmad stated.
Sana took his negation in her stride and simply turned to ask Sanwal what he would like. When Sanwal uttered the name of a complicated French wine that Ahmed could barely understand let alone pronounce, he figured that both of them had assimilated into a culture that was far from the way they had both been raised in Peshawar and Lahore. Despite his experience in the U.S., the sight of Pakistanis consuming alcohol casually was unsettling for him, perhaps because he could not envision himself doing the same.
Sana, oblivious to his internal turmoil, was busy looking through the menu. Catching Ahmed off guard, she promptly asked him to choose his main course, while she suggested the appetizer they should order. Almost simultaneously, she turned around, making eye contact with one of the waiters who gave her a smile indicating familiarity.
“Hi, Adrian, busy day today! Could we have the artichoke dip for our appetizer with some baked chips? Actually, we’ll also have some fries, and you can ask the guys what they want to drink. I’ll have a martini with extra olives, as usual. As for the mains, what specials do you have going today?”
Again, Ahmed was proud and perhaps slightly envious of the good rapport that both Sanwal and Sana had going here. He wondered how often they must visit the same place, in order to have the waiters know their names and usual orders by heart.
A part of him also envied the fact that the couple were attending the same alma mater as one of Pakistan’s most famous politicians, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto. This interesting fact was sure to be a conversation starter back in Pakistan for those who were history-savvy.
Sanwal, he noticed, was also laid back here. He wore a white dress shirt with retro jeans, his hair not particularly well-groomed at the moment, but this look suited him. Sanwal had been in constant conversation with Ahmed since they had settled into their seats, while Sana had taken the reins with placing the orders. They were a great tag team.
The waiter soon circled back with their appetizers and drinks. She looked young, and was probably a student working her way through college tuition.
Sana thanked her as she placed their orders before them. A martini for Sana, a glass of red wine for Sanwal and fresh grapefruit juice for Ahmed. She also presented an appealing dish of french fries sprinkled with parmesan cheese, garlic, and olive oil, along with Sana’s choice of crispy rice crackers with avocado and spicy tuna topped with spring onion.
For their main courses, Ahmad had decided on a hot stone pot rice dish loaded with different kinds of seafood and mixed vegetables. Sanwal settled for boneless Korean fried chicken served with rice and pickles, while Sana decided on a hearty yellow curry dish containing potatoes, carrots, brussel sprouts, and shrimp, accompanied by rice.
It was only last week that Sana had contacted Ahmad, mentioning that she knew about him through her former student, Hira.
“I am so delighted to learn about your startup journey and your connection with Hira!” Sana shared. “She was always a favourite of mine, though we haven’t been in touch as closely as I would have liked. I’ve actually been busy finalizing my PhD, after which Sanwal and I plan to return to Pakistan”.
They had spent some time reminiscing about their shared origin, Peshawar, and how much it had changed since they had last been there. Following this conversation, Sana had extended an invitation, asking Ahmed to join them for dinner at the Berkeley Social Club.
Once at the restaurant, Ahmed had formally met Sanwal for the first time, and had learnt that he was wrapping up his PhD in Technology Economics at UC Berkeley. Both of them were keen on taking up teaching positions within Pakistan, preferably in Islamabad, as it seemed to be the best of both Pakistan and the U.S.
Ahmad took part in the conversation enthusiastically.
“In my time at NYU, I noticed very few Pakistani economics students specializing in technology economics. I’m glad to know that you will be the torch bearer within this field in Pakistan.”
Sana stepped in to say “We’re really looking forward to going back home. I am excited about all the prospective students and colleagues I will meet! I want to start an informal community where we can exchange knowledge on research frontiers of different disciplines, and hopefully learn from each other.”
Sana spoke so passionately about her plans, it was infectious. Ahmed saw how her face lit up, how her eyes crinkled at the corners and how she seemed to blush with the effort of talking so fast about everything she cared about. She resembled a typical Pashtun woman, Ahmed thought, but her thinking was far from the norms that were associated with women back in the homeland.
He was deeply touched by the open-heartedness and warmth that Sana and Sanwal exhibited throughout the course of the evening. He was struck by the ease with which Sana invited him, a boyfriend of her former student, to dine with them.
This change in dynamics and values was intriguing to him, but he was immensely grateful to them for choosing to spend their time with him. Though there were some things he could not yet wrap his head around, he nevertheless found their lifestyle inspiring, for their boldness, if nothing else. Their blissful married life was something he aspired to, and his mind wandered back to Hira in between conversations.
Ahmad shared his entrepreneurial journey in NYC and his current venture aimed at enhancing the reading and decision-making abilities of autonomous vehicles. The couple looked at him intently, hanging on to every word. It made him feel seen and heard, and above all, respected by his peers. Sana made sure to nod in between mouthfuls, while Sanwal would give a grunt of approval every now and then.
Later, Sana shared that she was delving into works of literature by Native Americans. Ahmad raised his eyebrows, admittedly unaware that this branch of literature even existed. He had always assumed, based on the dominant historical narratives, that Native American people were merely nomads and hunters.
“There are oral histories and pictographic tales that have recently been brought to light by a few native authors,” Sana explained patiently. It seemed she had gotten this reaction before.
Then Sanwal moved on to share his research that was focused on the interplay of knowledge spillovers, technology development, and economic progress. Ahmad confessed that he had not encountered such subjects from Pakistani researchers before.
Sharing a knowing smile, Sana and Sanwal took turns recounting their experiences.
Sana recounted that upon her arrival at UC Berkeley, many of her professors had suggested she study the literature that revolved around the Pakistani diaspora. Sana had stood her ground and challenged their generalized understanding, mentioning that she had already studied this literature during her teaching and research tenure in Pakistan.
“I’m here to explore what I couldn’t have learnt whilst in Pakistan,” she had said. “I am deeply invested in what the world of Native American literature has to offer.”
Sana mentioned that while her professors had been taken aback by her subject choice, they were supportive, nevertheless.
Similarly, Sanwal recounted how his professors proposed that he study the measurement of poverty in Pakistan, a subject typically associated with the field of development economics, and with developing countries like Pakistan. Sanwal, however, had been reading about systemic racism and the limitations of this field in facilitating growth and prosperity in developing countries. He was captivated by the influence of technology, its developmental process, and its sweeping societal impact.
“So many Pakistanis arrive here and get ensnared in the field of development economics without gaining sufficient understanding of the society they are studying, or the society they will go back and work for. I noticed this in my engagements with various people, as I worked in Lahore and Peshawar, both in the government and the development sector,” Sanwal expressed.
Breaking away from the topic of academic discussion, Sana shifted the conversation towards Hira.
“How is she doing, and what are you both planning for the future?” she asked.
“She’s doing wonderfully. That’s the reason we’re together,” Ahmad replied playfully, causing all three of them to laugh lightly.
At that moment, the waiter arrived with their mains. They expressed gratitude to her, and commenced their meal.
Sana started reminiscing about her time teaching Hira.
“Hira was a quiet student in class, but her writing was profound. I felt a deep emotional connection with Hira’s work; the way she wrote about her emotional struggles and marginalization in society was deeply and unfortunately relatable. Her unique style of writing piqued my interest, and I invited Hira to my office thereafter. She had a reserved demeanor, but I could sense the unspoken thoughts etched on her face.”
Sana’s observations resonated with Ahmed, who added that Hira had remained the same up to university. He noted her transformation, particularly after moving to Islamabad. How she had begun to take longer strides and hold her head higher now that she knew her worth, and was finally surrounded by a group of supportive peers.
“She’s excelling at her job; the boss is a big fan of hers, and is keen on keeping Hira around as long as possible. She tells me about the leeway she gets due to her important post within the company. It allows her to catch up on sleep and go to the office a bit later than others. She works really hard though, and is also taking good care of her family and those around her,” Ahmad shared.
Sana wondered openly why Hira wasn’t keen on moving to the U.S. Ahmad responded that he had tried persuading her numerous times, but she was committed to looking after her family. As the eldest daughter, she felt it was a duty to look after everyone, and she could only do so much if she moved to the U.S.
A light of recognition sparked across Sana’s face, as she glanced at Sanwal, and talked jovially about how he wasn’t initially keen on leaving Lahore either, like many other Lahoris who are reluctant to cross the Ravi Bridge. She chuckled, revealing that she had eventually convinced him to move after several interventions. Sanwal reciprocated her smile and playfully responded,
“How could I ever decline her majesty’s request?”
As the trio burst into giggles again, their waiter walked up to the table and asked courteously,
“If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”
Sana thanked her. The waiter gave a slight smile and returned to her station.
The conversation pivoted back to developments in the technology sector. Sanwal began elaborating on his research about how state funding has created knowledge spillovers, contributing to the economic prosperity of the U.S. Being primarily a computer science student, Ahmad wasn’t well-versed in the policy aspects of technology. Looking at Ahmed’s lost expression, Sanwal suggested that he read ‘The Entrepreneurial State’ by Mariana Mazzucato. After a while, Sana interjected with a light smile on her fair complexion,
“You gentlemen are back to discussing technology and economics. You need to read more literature to humanize technology.”
Ahmad responded,
“I’ve been a fan of literature since my childhood. Ma’am. I read anything I could get my hands on both at home and at the school library. It always offered a welcome escape, and to this day I find that it helps me understand the people around me.”
“Please don’t call me ‘Ma’am! Feel free to call me ‘Sana’.”
“Of course. The reason I addressed you as Ma’am was because Hira still refers to you that way.”
Sana smiled, “That’s sweet of her. But I always encourage even my former students to call me ‘Sana’. I don’t want them to think they have to put on a façade of a student-teacher dynamic when we’ve all grown past that stage.”
At Ahmed’s request, Sana suggested that he read ‘Americanah’ by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. She expressed how much she resonated with the author’s predicament of dealing with condescending attitudes and pity from white scholars based in America.
According to Sana, those coming from developing economies to pursue promising fields of scholarship often faced the stereotype of being thought of as inherently less capable of studying the American economy, literature, or social issues, even though white scholars promptly set themselves up as experts on just about every field in every country that they may have not even visited.
She said that everyone in the U.S. seemed eager to discuss the poverty in Pakistan, the lack of clean water, and corruption. It was almost a fixation; rarely did they discuss, Pakistani artists, Indus Valley heritage and technology entrepreneurs. This caricaturist and reductionist approach had inspired her to delve deeper into Chimamanda’s works that faced these paternalistic notions of white scholars head-on.
Sanwal, changing the course of the conversation, light-heartedly remarked, “Enough literature for now!”
Everyone giggled, finishing their meals while chatting about their favorite spots in California. The Berkeley Social Club, with its sensuous, dim lighting, served as the perfect place to unwind. Leaning back into their high-backed chairs, the trio chatted for another hour. They only noticed how late it was when Sanwal received a notification that lit up his phone screen.
As they got up to leave, collecting their phones and wallets, they promised each other to keep in touch and to meet more often.
“I wish Hira could also be here with us, and we could all hang out together over the weekend,” Sana mused. “Of course, I’ll meet her soon in Pakistan, but I would have liked to see her here, far from home, having a good time with us.”
Ahmed said mischievously, “Then you can only imagine how much I’m looking forward to seeing her”, his face breaking into a wide smile.
Sana and Sanwal empathized, and nodded knowingly. They said their goodbyes outside the Club. Wrapping their scarves tightly around their necks, and with their hands deep into their coat pockets, the trio bade farewell and walked their separate ways, promising to meet again soon.
