Is the Grass Greener in America?
Nepalis romanticize 'America' because they have been bombarded with overglorified images. It is a feeling that is hard to shake off even when living a B-grade lifestyle in the United States.
Every year, about January, YMCA recruiters interview a hundred or so young Nepalis, mostly boys. From among them, a select group of about 30 is chosen to go to the United States to serve as counselors in the many summer camps that are organised for school children in different parts of the country. The Nepali youths have to pay for their own air tickets, but are taken care of once they land at JFK airport by the YMCA's International Camp Counselor Program (ICCP).
There can be no quarrel with the programme, because it provides bright young Nepalis with exposure to American society —except that only a handful of these promising Nepali youth will ever return home. The rest are lost to the American dream machine, transported over by a programme has created a significant drain on Nepal's future brain bank.
The selection process for the youth counselors is such that the best and the brightest produced by Nepal's elite schools, primarily St. Xavier's, St. Mary's and Budanilkantha, are chosen — whoever has not already got scholarships in an American college, that is. From a country where the quality of schooling is abysmal even by South Asian standards, the ICCP makes off with the select top layer on whom the country has spent enormous amounts of scarce resources.
The selected youths are provided an Exchange Visitor Visa and their agreement with ICCP stipulates that they will "work only in camp, and return home at the expiration date of the visa." When the ICCP programme started in 1984, out of 34 boys who traveled West, only one returned. The' following year there were 56 who went and two returned. Last year, three returned out of 26 who left for the United States. On average only about 20 percent return to Nepal, the rest being sucked into the heady world of independent living in the United States, some striking it lucky with school and scholarships, others making just making do in menial jobs and wasting their time and education.
The departure of 30-odd boys and girls every year for Dreamland USA is, of course, only symptomatic of a contagion that runs rife through not only Nepal, but all of South Asia and the rest of the Third World. Nepalis form but a tiny drop in the ocean of humanity that looks to the United States green card as the ultimate reward. However, in terms of 'brain drain' Nepal's loss is perhaps greater than that of other South Asian countries because its pool of the properly educated is so much smaller.
Today, every other Nepali college-going student with some English background is actively seeking to go to the United States. Everyone else who has half an opening will attempt to make it through: a Fulbright scholarship that can (with difficulty) be converted to a more permanent stay; relatives that can be expected to pull one over; visa sponsorships that may be true or false. Upon overstaying a visa period, if societal ambitions are not high, one can always disappear into American metropolis safe in knowledge that the hopelessly overworked Immigration and Naturalisation Services (INS) will never be able to track you down unless someone tattles.
The United States is Shangri La in reverse. Unlike the tourists who visit the Himalaya, however, most Nepalis who make it to over there rarely use their return tickets.
About 13,000
Time and again, all over South Asia, one finds that persons who have visited the United States, no matter how briefly, command automatic respect. Among parents, siblings, relatives, friends and neighbours, this reverence is not so much for the individual as for the land that they have touched. And more often than not, the America-returned prefers to keep quiet about the reality of Eldorado: of long hours serving behind fast-food counters, of loneliness in a fast-paced alien urban culture, of the relative deprivation that can be countered only with a continuous comparison with the home country ("Here I have a fridge and a car, but in Nepal…")
Howsoever ill-equipped they may be to confront America, the number of Nepalis who forsake their society and head West is on a dramatic rise. Although by Third World standards their arrival is late and small in numbers, figures show a recent surge in both the immigrant as well as non-immigrant Nepali population.
Some old-time residents remember when they used to long for anything 'Nepali' to come along — visitors, a packet of masala, a phone call from the next state. Today, these needs are considerably satiated, particularly in the major cities which now have good-sized Nepali communities. Ten years ago, Boston had no more than a handful of Nepali students in residence. Today, about 150 Nepalis work or study in this East Coast city. The numbers are much higher in Washington DC, New York, Chicago and Los Angeles. A Nepali New Yorker who arrived in 1971 estimates that there are about 500 in his city, the majority having arrived in the last five years.
According to the INS, a total of 1930 Nepalis had immigrated to the United States by 1991. Assuming that each immigrant has a spouse and at least two children and adding the approximately 840 students from Nepal, the total would have been a little over 8000, which was also the estimate of the New York-based American-Nepal Friendship Society. There are, however, probably a few thousand more who overstay their tourist (B) or business visa. And many enter as students and then stay on. Taking all this into account, as well as the number of F (student), J (exchange visitor), II (business), M (vocational student) visas and green cards given to Nepalis over the last two years, there are probably about 13,000 persons of Nepali origin in the United States today —immigrants, non-immigrants, and illegal aliens.
Modern-Day
Lahur
What is the motivation behind this undying America craze? Chaitanya Mishra, well known Nepali sociologist, says the phenomenon of wanting to leave Nepal itself is nothing new. "There has always been dignity in going to faraway place to make a better living. For instance, if a village could not support more than one bahun, the extra bahun moved on."
Lahur janey, traveling to the Gurkha recruitment centers in the plains, is the best example of this historical migratory proclivity, says Mishra. In centuries past, Lahur was as close as the plains of the Tarai or as far as Burma or Singapore. In the 1950s, England was where everyone wanted to be. "The United States is the latest lahur, having left England far behind in the global cultural hierarchy."
Push as well as pull factors turn mere desire for the United States into reality. The push factors include financial problems and family difficulties. While the hope to earn a better living in muglan has always been the rationale for historical migration, it is surprising to note the large number of Nepalis in the United States who cite "family problems" as the reason for immigrating — bickering over dwindling family assets, family feuds, and pressure to marry. Rather than be trapped in marriage, one young woman with a Bachelor's degree willingly joined first year in college in the United States.
Among the pull factors, opportunity for higher education is one very strong one. The depressing state of Nepal's higher education helps sustain the exodus to American institutions. Till a decade ago, Nepalis were mostly enrolled in Masters or doctoral programmes. Today, however, a majority (64 percent in 1991/92) come for undergraduate studies, which runs counter to both South Asian as well as world trends.
There are hundreds of well-endowed universities and colleges which will pick up the tuition tab for strong candidates. The availability of scholarships anzd soft loans are dwindling, however, mainly because the Federal funds have been cut drastically. In the past, students went abroad for study only if tuition and board were paid by institutional or university scholarships. Today, however, a large proportion of Nepalis today actually pay their own way through two-year or four-year courses in American state universities and so-called 'community colleges' (a category under which Nepali enrollment has more than tripled in the last decade). Tuition in these institutions range between U$1000-2000 a term.
A large number of Nepali students pay for tuition by working part-time (about 20 hours a week), while others Make do by working runtime during alternate terms. Newfound affluence in Kathmandu (and cash-in-hand from sale of real estate) has meant that some parents are able to afford even Ivy League education for their children in the larger and most expensive private universities, where term fees range between U$5000-10,000. A few years ago, a Nepali undergraduate arrived at a small town in Georgia and deposited U$30,000 at the local bank. For a long time, he was the talk of the whole town.
Professional curiosity is a also big draw on mid-career Nepalis. Many successful and not-so-successful doctors, economists, engineers and others in technical fields arrive and get hooked. A research or development job in a high technology firm is considered the end-goal, for instance, although only a few Nepalis can claim to have 'made it' that far. For others who have set their sights lower, even a few months' training and cursory exposure to the United States becomes a marketable asset back home.
The allure of a supposedly independent and freewheeling American lifestyle is among the stronger pull factor for Nepalis of all castes and classes. This, more than anything else, is what has Nepalis desperately seeking visas at the American Embassy at Panipokhari, Kathmandu. Coming from a traditional-minded society in which family or group behaviour tends to overpower individualism, married and unmarried Nepalis alike are attracted to a country where social relations are more relaxed. For those who feel smothered by societal strictures, a ticket to America is the ultimate escape. Wrote one correspondent, "I greatly value this (American) society's ability to let a person be what he or she wants to be. Eastern societies can be caring but there are always strings attached."
While its never openly cited, the desire for class mobility also is a reason why so many travel to the United States, where reward for hard work are thought to be more direct, and where one evades the existing class structures of the home country altogether.
The Myth Shatters
Some of the classic stereotypes about America quickly crumble as the traveler alights at New York, Washington DC or Los Angeles. The collision with reality often comes right at the terminal when the Nepali looking for gleaming chrome and glass finds dirty plastic and cardboard instead.
The Fantasia of their imaginings does exist, but is not immediately apparent nor available to the most first generation immigrants. "Heaven on earth, that is what I expected," says a Nepali woman now working in Washington DC. "Through books, movies and magazines I imagined a free, wonderful, rich society where I could experiment with self-expression. I imagined a friendly, mostly white people, and sophistication in food, in people, in information and in technology."
The visions of a great democracy and bedrock of social justice, too, dissipate over time. The reality of underlying racism is immediately apparent and is reinforced over a longer timeframe. The quality of life of the inner cities, in whose proximity many Nepalis live, becomes a window to the America of incredible poverty amidst unimaginable wealth.
The cliche of 'melting pot' begins to appear tenuous. A graduate student in California: "I tit; longer think of the United States as a great melting pot. It is homogeneous — culturally Eurocentric, racially more than 65 per cent white, religion-wise Christian, language-wise English."
A lady doctor who has lived in Boston for 12 years: "What has struck me most is the violence that pervades society. The social isolation of the elderly is pervasive. The poor do not have money for medicine or food —they are no better off than the poor of the Third World."
The high prevelance of violent crimes, loneliness in a rushed society, and the treatment of the elderly were, in fact, the three social ills that South Asians this writer interviewed found most striking in America.
It turns out that except for the most adaptable among the young immigrants (or those who are raised in the United States since childhood), complete assimilation is practically impossible. "The bottom line is that even after years of living, I do not feel at home here," wrote a professional woman who had started studies in the United States as an undergraduate. "Americans cherish freedom and rights for Americans, but are only superficially supportive of the rights of non-Americans here."
Meeta Saiju, a sociologist who studied Nepali domestic workers in the Washington DC metropolitan area, says that Nepali women are especially hardpressed, "being both w omen and foreigners in a social setting that is not native to them."
For some Nepalis, the rude awakening comes not from evaluating the truths of American society, but from having to work hard in the land of milk and honey — either in the classroom or the shop floor. Wrote one graduate student, "I still believe that it is easier for talented people to succeed in the United States, but one has to be able to tolerate merciless exploitation of talent, make a niche for oneself, and perpetuate the exploitation."
Many Nepalis interviewed admitted that had they known life would be such a struggle in America they would not have come. After the thrill over the dollar paycheck subsidies, reality sinks in: the cost of living is much too close to what one brings in, and the savings account is always at minima. Even though the pace of economic progress is excruciatingly slow, however, Nepalis persevere. They have burnt their bridges, and a return home with nothing to show for America would be embarrassing. The hardships of the present are also ameliorated by the hopes for a better future, particularly the expectation of retiring to Nepal with United States social security benefits.
Return
The myth of return to the homeland, as with every other immigrating community, resides with Nepalis also. Very often, people want to stay long enough to enjoy comforts and benefits, but by the time that stage is achieved, many other factors will have cropped up —seniority at work, children's education, pensions requirements, etc. Many married graduate students with children are torn between wanting to return for self and also wanting an American education for their children.
Understandably, many want to make some money before returning home, but the longer they stay the harder it becomes to return. Ashok Raj Pandey, who has lived more than a dozen years in Boston and plans to return to Kathmandu in 1993, calls this a "moving target". Pandey, a Harvard Business School graduate and businessman, describes the predicament of the typical Nepali immigrant thus: "First you want to make a few hundred dollars, then a few thousand, then tens of thousands. But as you move up the ladder, the savings are soaked up by inflation, demands of a growing family, a better car, eating out, entertainment. In the end, after so many years you have saved so little. Then there• is no courage to go home. And your kids still have to go to college."
Says a social worker, "Some Nepalis end up nicely. But most don't and for them the humiliation of return is hard to bear."
Those who arrived in the 1960s now have children in their mid-twenties. Although the parents continue to feel strong pulls back to Nepal, the children obviously feel Americans first. As adolescents, many even react to parental suggestions by rejecting Nepali language, culture and ethnic heritage. When confronted with this estrangement with all that they hold dear, the parents' reaction is to put their children's interests first. The plans to return recede further.
There are, certainly, many who have given up prospects of a successful career in the United States and returned to Nepal of their own volition. What do they have to say? Kamal Prakash Malla, linguist and observer of Nepali culture, agrees that the ambitious might not find full satisfaction in the United States. "You can carve yourself a role here (in Nepal). It is hard to create an impact in the US." Madhav Gautam, who has a PhD in health and nutrition from Cornell University, professes to see no essential difference between life in Kathmandu and in Ithaca, the upstate New York town where the University is located. "The only difference I notice is that the cars are a little fancier over there. I have a classmate who stayed back, but I do not think he is all that happy." Says [sociologist] Mishra, who received his PhD from the University of Florida, Gainesville, "The United States is good to visit, not to live in. The material needs are fulfilled, but not the cultural and social needs."
Long Haul Ahead
Among those Nepalis who have decided to make the tradeoff and stick it out in pursuit of 'America', there is a sense of a community slowly building. In fits and starts, and not without a bit of infighting and unhealthy politicking, they have built up institutions that will help Nepalis in the United States to cope with the long haul ahead. Associations of Nepalis have sprung up all over the United States and Canada. The major cities and suburbs have groups that usually organise gatherings at least for the Nepali New Year and Dasain, if not more often. There are also groups that have formed along ethnic lines, age group, marital status, or income level.
Pratima Upadhyay, in her PhD dissertation on the assimilation of Nepali immigrants in the United States, delves into why Nepalis congregate. She writes that while Nepalis maintain "secondary contact" with Americans, "primary contacts or intimate relationships…are rare." Nepali immigrants, writes Upadhyay, prefer to withdraw from the social and cultural organisations of the host society "for the comfort of self-identity and sense of peoplehood".
In the end, though, Nepalis do tend to assimilate more than some other immigrant communities, perhaps because there are still so few of them. Writes Upadhyay "Considering that they are the first generation immigrants and have lived in this country for relatively short periods of time, the Nepalese have acculturated considerably. They appear to possess an enormous potential for rapid assimilation into American society."
But at what cost? Obviously the one's who willingly suffer the burden of alienness are the first generation immigrants who travel to the United States to study, work and taste the dream. They might not use the word, but many are then 'trapped' by their occupations, by perceived familial obligations, and the conviction of having 'made it' in the Western Land of Milk and Honey. The triumps and travails of Nepali immigrants– are really no different than that of any other community in this land of immigrants. The travails are reserved for the first generation, the triumphs for the descendants that follow.
Manandhar, a graduate of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, is Chairman of the Greater Bostom Nepali Community and publisher of SamacharBichar, a newsletter on issues of interest to Nepali students and scholars in the United States.