Brothers-in-arms, byte by byte or bite by bite

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By Usha Sankar (China Daily)
Updated: 2009-09-16 08:03

Brothers-in-arms, byte by byte or bite by bite

Pre-1962 were the heady years of Hindi-Chini bhai bhai (India and China are brothers). Post-1962 marked the frosty years of what the Indians tongue-in-cheek call Hindi-Chini bye-bye! But as Indians greedily grab a chance for a peek "behind the bamboo curtain" and Chinese become increasingly curious for the view "under the veil", the slogan for the times and for the two nations (both in their 60s) could well become Hindi-Chini byte by byte (Dalian to Bangalore) or Hindi-Chini bite by bite (Tandoori chicken to mapo tofu).

An estimated 25,000 Indians live and work in China and yet whenever I tell people back home I work in China, I am met with a shrug of the shoulders and roll of the eyes. The unsaid part being, "why would anyone want to work there".

I don't blame them.

When I informed my folks, five years ago, my mom blurted out: "If you had to go to China, you might as well have stayed back home." After all, my argument for leaving the shores of India 20 years ago was that I wanted opportunities for me and my family that I did not see back then. I wanted to move West. My folks understood that; they just couldn't understand why instead of moving further West, I would make a U-turn.

My mother was also worried about food. "You know how it is there," she said in a hushed tone. "How will you survive as a vegetarian." I had no answer to that then but found plenty as soon as I landed here. I realized I had succumbed to the same generalizations and prejudices that I resented in people when they talked about India. I was shamed into silence.

And so were my parents, when they visited two years ago. They, of course, marveled at this gleaming metropolis, but also felt humbled by the grace and politeness extended to them by ordinary people they met on the streets.

They were astonished that my Shandong-province ayi, who speaks not a word of English, had mastered all the intricacies of South Indian vegetarian cooking. They were open-jawed at how she cycled an hour in the biting winter of Beijing to arrive at my house every day at 7:30 am on the dot, wearing a big smile, a courteous nihao and cheerfully took over their care and comfort even when I was not at home. Nothing, my mom observed, seemed to faze her - not even ironing 6 meters of a rectangular shaped cloth, called sari, which my mom drapes around her everyday.

They went sight-seeing in Beijing helped by an understanding driver who helped dad get around with his walking stick, taking care to keep an umbrella on hand in case of rain, making sure there was always bottled water in the car, buying them fruits and encouraging them to drink jasmine tea to keep their throats from getting dry. A native Beijinger, he was proud to show his city to the elderly folk? He was not Chinese, they were not Indian and there was no 1962. And he did it with an empathy that only humans are capable of.

After a month's stay my parents returned home. A few days later I got a package from one of my friends who had visited their city. In it lay a red fur coat - my mom's prized possession given to her decades ago by her late Geneva-based UN-expert father. With a simple note, "Give this to your ayi."

Ever since I moved to China, I have had a steady stream of visitors from home and each and every one has been touched in some way or other by their stay here.

Any nation at 60 will have plenty to be proud about. But if China were to pick just one year to write home about it would have to be 2008. As it was hit by one crisis after another - from the unprecedented snowstorms in South and East China and the disturbances surrounding the Olympic torch relay to the devastating earthquake in Sichuan province. I marveled at how a resolute people grit their teeth and overcame every odd to unleash the magic that was 08-08-2008 on the world. Hats off!

India and China are neighbors, close neighbors. And as anyone living even in the safest of neighborhoods knows that when dusk approaches, you must lock the doors. But that does not stop anyone from opening those doors in the light of day, leaning across the fence, and extending a warm nihao or namaste! Take your pick!

(China Daily 09/16/2009 page9)