I was sitting on the couch, burping Bella (new born) and I noticed that the TV was on with some old reruns of the sitcom Friends. I usually grab the remote and turn the TV off normally but I didn’t.
Memories of my first days watching Friends came back to me. I was a teen, when I arrived on American soil to live. I had come earlier as a child but it was to visit and I loved America, truly the land of milk and honey or an abundance of toys, which was my milk and honey. I remember arriving on Saturday the 8th of August at 8pm in 1998. We picked up our bags and had to take a bus to Disney Land from LAX.
I remember a couple of days later, Dad leaving to drop my sister off at Clearwater Christian College in Tampa and I had some free time before High School started for me. I made use of the time by watching TV like any other teen. As I used to watch I noticed that the sound on the TV wasn’t foreign anymore as everyone else around me had the same sound the same cool sound. Yes it was the American accent, I didn’t have it, and I wanted it baad, verrry badd. I remember practicing (in front of the mirror in the bathroom, so I wouldn’t look stupid doing it outside in public) saying words in an American accent and seeing how my tongue would have to change its normal way of doing things to make it sound American, and yes it was a lot cooler than the mutt (Indian, british etc) accent I had that I picked up at my days at Hebron. It took me a while but I eventually (over time) got the hang of it and was able to pull it off without a hitch. I then had to learn slang as I figured out that sawing logs really didn’t mean someone was cutting up wood in the back (thanks Wendy!)
I slowly became accustomed to the American way of life, learning from my mistakes as I went along (driving 100mph on interstate 5 is reason enough to get a nice $800 ticket and a suspended license, thank God I wasn’t arrested).
America helped me become me, to question and come to a decision for myself without following blindly, because that was what was expected of an Indian boy. I also remember the difference American schools made for me, they made me think, not memorize unlike my Indian school I attended after my days at Hebron.. ahh Hebron, why… Nevermind, I’ll save that for another day..
So like an average man, I never wanted to go back to India, not to live anyways. It literally took an act of God to be honest to get me to leave the comfort, the organized way of life to get me to go there – but here I am, going, happily.
In closing, here’s a few shots I took of Drasti Panchal, a beautiful woman in every sense of the word and an amazing Bharatanatyam dancer. She is also the Associate Artistic Director at the Sa Dance Company.
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