Soon we left India and the bad experience behind forever and flew towards the Philippines for possibly a new life and a new beginning. We had no plans other than reaching Pili in time so that Jasmine could get to see her dying father. But in Manila there were some formalities to complete. I had to apply for a resident status, so we went to the Immigration office and met with the bureau chief who handled the process.
He was an old lawyer who finally agreed to expedite my case and asked a junior lawyer to do the paperwork immediately. I had convinced him that we needed to reach Pili soon and were traveling with two small children who were tired and needed rest, not to mention Jasmine, whose father was very sick. So all the paperwork was done, and we arrived in Pili the very next morning.
This is remarkable because the Bureau of immigration and deportation in Manila was not noted for efficiency when it came to the cases involving Boombais as the Indians were called here. The word deportation was often emphasized in case of aliens, so by and large it was an unfriendly place full of unfriendly people who were very prejudiced against the Boombais.
That is why I said that it was truly remarkable. The lawyer chief was friendly, and they handled y case with compassion and speed.
The Boombais were a sad lot in the Philippines. Many came as tourists and stayed on to do business of loan sharking, although the local pawn shops were better at gouging people than them. They hid in the provinces from the immigration sleuths, but sometimes got caught and deported. The term Boombai included anyone who looked like them, like Bangladeshis, Pakistanis or others. Children were taught rhymes that went like that.” there is a Boombai, there is a Boombai hiding under the bridge” and the local TV and radio were full of deprecations about the Boombais who were called five sixers. The transvestites made jokes about them on TV.
You could often hear Filipinos talking among themselves belittling Boombais, so the prejudice was widespread. They had read in the Reader’s Digest how poor India was and people there starved all the time. Nothing you could say or do could change their mind because their belief was very strong. This would later change as the cable TV came via satellite and brought BBC and CNN and with it wide coverage of India but only among the educated class. The grassroots did not have satellite TV or understand English, and it was they who would continue this tragic prejudice.
When Jasmine defended by saying that India was a misunderstood country, they just laughed and said she said it because she was married to a Boombai. The fact was that very few Filipinos had ever traveled to India and most knew absolutely nothing about it because their knowledge of other countries was limited to the United States where the streets were paved with gold and where every Filipino wanted to go and live the good life.
Even those Filipinos who had immigrated to the United States lived in close Filipino communities like in Daly City near San Francisco and did not mix very much with the mainstream Americans. They had their own TV programs piped in from Manila and shops where they could buy the native food. The ones in the Philippines envied them and wanted to go there.
There were historical reasons for their affection for America or anything American. The Philippines was colonized by America for a long time, and they came to its aid during the last war when the Japanese occupied the country and treated the locals roughly. Many Filipinos like Mr. Castillo had served in the USAFE which stood for US army in the far east and many war veterans were later allowed to immigrate to the United States. They number now in millions there and constantly petition for their relatives. The USA is also the main trading partner of the Philippines.
Filipinos imitate anything American good or bad and consider them as their role models. They have historically looked to the east and not to the west because the east is where they all wanted to go. In their schools they were taught American history but not much Asian history. The American fashion, American music, American food, movies and hot dogs were better in their mind. There were many other reasons.
But their prejudices against Indians came primarily from ignorance, as most prejudices are. The ragged looking strange people wearing funny turban and bracelets riding motorbikes and hiding in the provinces did not create much of an impression on the Filipino mind. They thought that if India was such a great country, then why did these people come to the Philippines selling umbrellas? Their logic was hard to beat.
The local newspapers did not help the matter either. When a giant warship of the Indian Navy made a courtesy call to the port in Manila, they printed a badly taken photo and the article in very small letters also in faded ink and shoved it into the 13th page. As if they did not believe that India had a very modern navy, including carriers and sophisticated submarines.
Many Filipino women saw that marriage to a white American was their only ticket to the promised land to escape from their misery here and were very surprised that we voluntarily returned to settle down somewhere.
People were often surprised that I had a Ph.D. and was not selling umbrellas or hiding under the bridge. It made them uneasy and at a loss as to how to react. Most had never met an Indian who was so educated and who did not wear turban or bracelets. Some even asked Jasmine what made her marry an Indian, when they did not rate so high in their mind. Remember her sisters? They were typical Filipinos. Ignorance and prejudice goes hand in hand.
Most Filipino girls if asked to rate in order of preference whom they wanted to marry inevitably said that the first choice was a white American and last a Boombai. The African Americans were not even considered. They could not believe it when we said that we found the Philippines a very nice country because they tried so hard to leave, where opportunities were few. Most would go to the Middle East doing menial labor jobs, but they came from the grassroots or grp as we called them. The educated ones tried for the United States.
Anyway our journey had come to an end at least for the time being. Her father was in the intensive care in Naga City hospital and indeed very sick. It took him some time before he could recognize Jasmine, but finally showed signs that he was happy to see her. He could not speak and was fed through the nose. His hulk had shrunk to practically nothing, and he had terrible bed sores. His eyes were vacant and the body emaciated. It was even harder for us to watch, but I was glad we were able to come quickly because he died two days later.
The death of a parent is always very hard on the children, as I knew from my experience when my father died so painfully of cancer in 1966. It was naturally very hard for Jasmine and the rest but I think they were also relieved that his sufferings were over.
Her younger brother was at this time about to be ordained as a priest, which was a great moment in any Filipino family, so they got busy preparing for the funeral as well as the ordination. I was just a passive observer in these family rituals because here too remained a barrier between me and them.
I was here to give Jasmine moral support, who was undergoing a good deal of emotional turmoil after her harrowing experience in India. This was the time she needed me the most, so I was glad to be by her side.
I noticed that no matter how distant people were to each other, they all showed up during a funeral. It was a time to show their solidarity. It was the word Annapurna did not understand because we did not have such solidarity in our family. In India, even close relatives often did not attend the funerals. It was because the Hindu tradition dictated that the body be cremated within 24 hours of death, so the relatives living far away could not reach in time.
But in the Philippines the body remained in the coffin for a long time to allow distant people to come and join the funeral, so a constant stream of people came and ate and drank beer to my great amazement. As if it was a festive occasion and not a wake. Such are the traditions of different countries. Here people wore black but in India and also in Vietnam the color of mourning is white not black.
Ashis and Jayanti, still very young, watched everything with curious eyes. They could not speak Tagalog or the local dialect called Bicol so they remained outside the conversation. Most Filipinos were very poor in English, although a few made a valiant effort for a few minutes until they ran out of vocabulary. The children did not bother.
The cultural differences between the Philippines and India are very remarkable. In fact, they are so great that I often wondered if other than religion, there are some common grounds. How could these two people develop even a modicum of understanding of each other given such differences tainted with prejudices? Of course, no one was trying or interested.
Soon after the funeral and the ordination, we decided to find a rented house in Naga City where the kids will now have to start their schooling because here too, living with the in-laws was tiring. So a small dilapidated house near the school of Jayanti was found, and we quickly moved in. Ashis was to go to school just across the street, so it was perfect. The transfer certificate helped them get to the higher grade right away, so the transition from India was smooth. Jayanti was a bit underage for kindergarten, but she charmed the teachers with her fluent English and baby talk. She would remain the baby of the class all through college, and so would Ashis. Filipino children started schooling at a later age than in India.
We set up a new household once again in the Jacob street apartment and looked after the kids and their education. They had started well and in fact were far ahead of their classmates in every respect. Jayanti became the darling of the sisters because she was not shy and could recite many rhymes by rote.
She started to learn the alphabets and made rapid progress. She learned many songs and dances and showed them to anyone. Ashis was also getting along well and started to learn many things. They clearly had an advantage in English, which was their first language, but also because they had lived in different countries and traveled.This experience set them apart.
This cross-cultural exposure was an asset to them, but their classmates had no idea what Ashis and Jayanti talked about in Mali, France or in India. They had never heard of Mali and what they knew about India or Indians was not very favorable, but our kids got along wonderfully and adjusted well to their new surroundings and schools. The trouble was that their classmates did not speak English and our kids did not yet learn the local language. This would change later as they grew up. They started to pick up Bicol words.
I was not as well-adjusted as I appeared to be. The rented house was on a very noisy street that made me very jumpy because I am sensitive to noise pollution and can not stand it. The trimobiles and motorbikes without mufflers made the matter worse. I longed for a quiet place, but it was not to be where we lived. I think at this time the idea of either building a house or buying one started to take root.
Jasmine had inherited a lot in town where we could build our house, but I soon discarded the idea. A new house meant dealing with the corrupt city hall people, so we started to think about a suitable ready built house somewhere. It is really amazing how fast the word spreads in a small town like Naga.
Soon some real estate agents started hounding us with their endless proposals, but we turned them all away until one day I said to Jasmine that we should go with them and then say no so that they will leave us in peace.
The house we went to see was an unfinished house in a subdivision which the old woman wanted to sell because she could not pay the bank the monthly amortization. She was a widow and lived alone. I liked the house right away because it was just right for us. It had a big living room and two bedrooms. The bathroom was small, but that could be enlarged, and the kitchen needed some work, but on the whole it was a good house that had a garage and some space in the front and the back.
We agreed to buy it to the great joy of the agents and the old woman and I got very busy for the next month or so to fix up the house properly. It had to be ready before Jayanti’s birthday in January when we planned to move in. We no longer had to live with in-laws anywhere and finally had our own place.This was to be our home, and a lovely home at that. I made sure of it.
We tore down all the plywood and built solid brick walls. We enlarged the bathroom and put in a flush toilet, shower and beautiful blue tiles. Not only that, but we put in a fence and a steel gate and had all the walls plastered with strong cement. I bought a pressure operated automatic water pump and had a deep well sunk in the back garden. The floor was to be red. The new tube lights were installed in all the rooms and the house spruced up with paint in and out.
We put in balusters outside for the garage, which would soon house our VW Brasilia that we bought. In fact, I was in the mood of spending and fixing up everything because I really liked the idea of our first real home. Jasmine was ecstatic and gave me many ideas. We planted roses in the front and fruit trees at the back. The front door was of a heavy duty carved Narra wood.
The metal gate bore the letters of our surname in bold style that we painted white with a blue background. In short, we got everything done in time for us to move in on the 5th of January 1983. Jayanti was to celebrate her 4th birthday in the new house.
I bought a very nice Akai stereo with tape deck and record player and set it up in our newly painted huge living room, where we set up the sofa set that Jasmine had purchased long ago. We brought all her stuff from Pili, including the Narra divider. I bought her the Singer sewing machine, ref and gas stove, pots and pans and everything she needed. We set up the TV and the dining table on one side of the big living room, so it was perfect.
Only the curtains remained, but that too came shortly. For Ashis and Jayanti we built double-deck beds because the bedrooms were not large, and we occupied the front room. Soon a maid was found, and we had a regular brand new household going in no time at all.
I started to enjoy life again, truly relaxing with good music and playing with our lovely children, or just sitting in our new garden talking to Jasmine. I put two easy chairs in the lawn where we usually sat, savoring it all.
We talked about how Momentous our decision to leave India had been because one thing led to another. I had been given permanent residency by the Manila Immigration office, and our children were recognized as Filipino citizens. What more could I ask for? We had everything.
Our new maid waxed and polished the floor like a mirror while we just sat enjoying it all. Due to our good luck, the kids went from one grade to the next and never missed a single school year since we had gotten them started in India, so the transition was smooth. Now they had their own bunk bed and their room. People marveled at the beautiful house that took shape so quickly. We now had a car, and it helped a lot in bringing the kids to school and running errands.
Her younger sister who had opposed our marriage now had a change of heart and moved in with us. Often her mother came and stayed, so it was nice for the kids to have a grandmother here. Their experience with their grandmother in India was nothing to write about, and we hoped that they did not remember her. The best news was that Jasmine regained her health and was the jolly and lively woman I knew in Mali.
Soon I received a letter from Robert Springsteen who now worked in the United States. He asked if I would like to work on a project in Haiti, to which I said yes. The offer of a job of professor in the Visayas state college of agriculture that had been recently made did not interest me because I had been to that place. It was isolated and full of religious fanatics. The Americans were anxious to have me in Haiti so one day in the month of February 1984, I left for the United States for the orientation program and then for Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Jasmine and the kids were to stay behind until I could find a suitable house and schooling facilities in Haiti. I really did not know anything about Haiti, so I had to first find out.
I met the team leader in Arkansas and many others. I was assured that Haiti is a nice country and I should get ready to go there for four years. He was bringing his family there, so I started hoping that soon Jasmine and the kids would be able to join me. We had never been separated before, so I really wished us to be together in Haiti. Thus, a new chapter was about to begin.
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