India: a return to the homeland
- akhilapamula
- Mar 5
- 6 min read
Neal and I are first generation Indian Americans. Our parents moved to the US over 40 years ago to pursue higher education and better life for themselves and their future families; Neal and I were still figments of their imagination when they moved to the opposite side of the world with barely a string as a lifeline and a heart full of hope. Our parents worked incredibly hard to build a solid life for us; Neal’s dad worked at the Wonder Bread factory while in grad school to financially support his family of 4; my parents lived off of 30 dollars and a sack of rice and potatoes for one month waiting for my dad’s first paycheck to come in after driving from Illinois to LA for his new professor gig. They have countless stories of struggles and hardships. They fought tooth-and-nail to climb their way up and to success. They are the true embodiment of the American Dream.
One of the rights of passage for many kids born to immigrant Indian parents is a visit back to the homeland. Neal and I both spent long summers at our grandparents’ house. Now, if you know anything about India in the summer, it is HOT. Like you can cook eggs on the sidewalk hot; you’re never dry because you’re sweating in places that shouldn’t sweat hot; like you feel like your face is melting hot. You get a slight reprieve from the heat with the arrival of the monsoon rains (think curtains of water with raindrops the size of quarters). It’s also not what most people traditionally imagine as a vacation either. Sure, maybe there is a little sightseeing, but the majority of the time, you’re either visiting multiple different family members at their homes or you’re watching old Tom and Jerry’s reruns on TV. Not glamorous. Looking back though, I do have many fond memories: playing cricket in the street with the neighbors; riding on the back of my grandfather’s scooter to go shopping for everything from milk to gold; picking out the best veggies from the street vendors that would bring their wares to the front of the house. My family is from Hyderabad, and something that is very unique here is the large Muslim population. Every morning, you’d wake up to the melodious call for prayer that would resonate throughout the entire city.
Just getting to India is an adventure. We traditionally would fly over the Pacific, with flights leaving in the middle of the night with a layover somewhere in Southeast Asia. Neal’s family would traditionally stop in Singapore, while we would usually take our break in Malaysia. These flights were long, but we kept ourselves entertained; first of all, you had your OWN TV screen that you didn’t have to share with your sibling, which was such a treat. It was just survival for our parents, so we would watch hours and hours of movies. The layovers would be extended, so we would be put up in a fancy hotel for anywhere from 9 to 24 hours before continuing our journeys. I remember wandering in Kuala Lumpur and my jaw dropping by the sheer height of some of those buildings. My brother would tell you about how excited he would get for the massive buffets at the Pan Pacific hotel. After this extended break, we would get back on a plane for the rest of the journey.
Now I’m not going to lie; this family trip to India was the first time I was nervous about flying with Jai. FIrst off, the flight just seemed daunting. Neal and I have taken this direct flight from San Francisco to Singapore many times, but the idea of doing a 16-hour flight with a 13 month old was slightly terrifying. I prepped as much as I could, bringing some of his favorite books, some easy stacking toys, and this activity book. We even bought an ipad and pre-installed games and Miss Rachel. He would rotate between the two of us, with every activity keeping his attention from anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes. The flight attendants were also amazing, also playing a crucial role in entertaining Jai. In terms of food, luckily, Jai doesn’t have any food allergies and was drinking regular whole milk, so I didn’t have to lug around any formula. I did carry on some of his favorite snacks and shelf-stable milk, but I didn’t have to use it since they had whole milk on board. I will say this–flying business class was a God-send. Not only is it more comfortable with the lie-flat seats that he could comfortably sleep on, but because the sheer number of options for food made it so I didn’t have to use anything I brought with me for him. And, of course, it’s a much more comfortable flight for adults as well.
We carried on the tradition of an extended layover by spending a few days in Singapore before making our way to India. I’ll write about our few days there in a separate post. We landed in Hyderabad, which is where my family is from. Now traditionally we would stay at one of our grandparents’ houses. My mom’s dad is the only remaining grandparent, and he has the health problems that you would expect in someone who is 90 years old. That in combination with the sheer number of people arriving–my parents, my brother and his fiancee, and us–a hotel was just more practical. We stayed at the Taj Deccan, which was a short 15-minute car ride from my granddad’s house. The rooms are nothing special, but the service puts it apart. The breakfast buffet is to die for, and they would make whatever we asked for if Jai was being picky. Our stay in Hyderabad was hectic and special because it was not only about spending quality time with my granddad, but because we were shopping for another special occasion–my brother’s upcoming wedding.
For the second half of the trip, we went to Kerala, which is where Neal’s family is from. I completely relinquished control to my father-in-law, who was so excited to show us around. Kerala is so different from the bustling city of Hyderabad; the landscape is so varied, ranging from tropical to mountainous. We started by experiencing the backwaters by houseboat. The closest thing that can compare is the bayous of the South. This labyrinthine system of palm-lined waterways are dotted with lush foliage, rich rice paddies, and quaint villages. It harkens back to a less complicated, more simple time, when you could truly experience stillness. My father-in-law grew up here, and we were lucky enough to visit his family home, one that he helped build. Neal has so many memories here, fishing in the canals and playing with the farm animals. It is an existence that is so different from what we have and what I have ever lived, and I’m so glad that we got to take our son to see where he came from. We then made our ways to the hilltop town of Munnar. The landscape is so different but equally breathtaking, with misty valleys and sprawling tea plantations.
While this trip was truly special for bonding with our families, it was not without some rough patches. All of us got sick. Like really sick. I had pneumonia. Neal had a GI bug where he was hugging the toilet. And poor Jai got both. While we as adults can just deal, watching our son be that ill was hard. Even with both of us being physicians and me traveling with a pharmacy, there were some times where I was really nervous. Jai couldn’t really keep anything down for a few days without zofran, and I was so worried about keeping him hydrated. We had to revert to syringe feeding him so that his little stomach could get a break. At one point, I had to make my own version of Oral Rehydration Formula (ORF) because he couldn’t tolerate milk and wouldn’t drink the store-bought version. I felt like I was constantly dosing tylenol and motrin just to keep his fever down. I can’t imagine how hard this would have been for someone who isn’t a physician who deals with sick kids like me. Luckily, there are pharmacies and clinics everywhere, even in the smaller towns. In big cities, it feels like there are hospitals around every corner. Fortunately, we didn’t have to visit any of them.
I know Jai will not remember visiting all of his ancestral homes and spending quality time with all of his grandparents in their hometowns. He won’t remember the look on his great-grandfather’s face when meeting him for the first time or how sweet the fresh coconut water was from the palm trees grown in his family’s backyard. But we will. And I truly believe that these experiences will leave a positive imprint on him as well.
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