| "Now,
here we were buying stuff as a phoren cousin to give back
to all our loved ones in the Himalayas. In most cases, I
wouldn’t buy any of the stuff for myself simply because
I would consider them too expensive and couldn’t afford
them. " |
 |
| Tenzing L. G. Chadotsang, Editor-in Chief |
Two friends of mine went back to India and Nepal recently.
Both were going back after years of being here in the States.
They both bought expensive gifts for their friends and family,
new clothes and shoes for themselves and saved up money for
the trip months in advance by scrimping on their expenses. They
looked so happy to be leaving for a holiday – a short
one at that.
I remembered the times when as a student in India, I looked
forward to visits from my cousins abroad. The latest clothes,
the expensive gifts that I got flashed before my eyes. We had
no Christmas, but the coming of these cousins was no less. Here
I am, years after, “abroad” as we so said in India.
Here I am helping a friend at a store buying expensive basketball
shoes for a ten year old, shoes costing well over a hundred
dollars. The child lives in a country where the average person
makes less than that amount in a month. Here we are at this
sporting goods store buying NBA clothes for another child who
watches cable TV in a house in Nepal, goes to a private school
there. All expenses for the house, and more, are paid by his
mother who works seven days a week as a caregiver – not
to her own children but her employers. The child wants a shirt
because another of his friends got that as a gift from one of
this so-called foreign returned uncle. The cost of the shirt
was more than half a month salary of the average person living
in the Himalayas.
I had grown up in India and as these gifts that were given
to me by my “phoren cousins.” I never saw the amount
they shelved out of their pockets for them – they did
not mention it. I sometimes asked them to send me some things,
which I saw, in magazines or in person on some of my friends.
I had cousins and that is all that mattered. I was the cousin
back in the Himalayas and they were the ones in the West that
would provide.
These “phoren cousins,” I see now are the same
as myself. They have regular jobs – they struggle here
in the U.S. with the same issues: rents, credit card bills,
underpaid jobs and long, tedious hours. They save up to go for
these trips back to the Himalayas where they take bags laden
with expensive presents while they themselves give up small
luxuries like a coffee at Starbucks in the morning or a take-out
lunch. Now, here we were buying stuff as a phoren cousin to
give back to all our loved ones in the Himalayas. In most cases,
I wouldn’t buy any of the stuff for myself simply because
I would consider them too expensive and couldn’t afford
them.
Anyway, to cut the long story short, this disturbed me. At
one level giving out expensive gifts to our friends and family
there creates a demand in our communities for items, which are
beyond our reach even here in the U.S. Also, evidence of our
flamboyant spending while on our visit back creates this impression
of an abundance of finances here, creating a desire in our other
Himalayan folk to come to here without understanding the situation
here – the long hours at work, rents and overcrowded apartments
and so on.
Well, life in the U.S. is not all that bad. There are opportunities;
there is freedom and an appreciation for hard work. But that
is something to discuss at another time.
As for Migyul, the journey continues – lending a hand
to all our Himalayan friends in New York in finding these opportunities,
assuring the freedom of our people and showing them a path to
get the recognition they deserve. A lot of movement has taken
place in the past month in the editorial board – friends
have joined and some have left. We ask you to join us in helping
ourselves or recommend any you might think would be an asset
to the magazine and our community.
