Bangalore: Wherever in the world you go, you are sure to find an Indian, talking the language of the land and savouring his new home, writes Marianne de Nazareth
Indians as a race seem to be able to adapt to whichever country they choose to migrate to. If you fly to any part of the world, no matter how remote, there is a good chance of meeting an Indian who has not only settled in the country but can also speak the language of his adopted country fluently. Indians very often are welcomed by the countries they choose to set down roots in, because as a race we have a reputation of being hard working and dependable.
Danny Rodrigues, an Indian by descent born in Nairobi, left to study in Denmark in his twenties. Today, thirty years later, if it wasn’t for his dark hair and eyes, Danny could easily pass off for a Dane as he thinks and lives like one. “I came to Aarhus in the Sixties to study Physical Education (PE) and while teaching it, met Marie Anne who was one of my students and there hangs a tale,” he says with a grin.
When in Rome...
Colleen Reuss left her native Vadodra in Gujarat, when she was a young woman, to set up home with Hubert, her husband of over 35 years, in Bavaria, Germany. Colleen today falters when she has to speak English, as German has become her first language. “We decided very early in the marriage that since we were living in Germany, the children would grow up as Germans. That however did not mean I cut off my Indian traditions. We travelled to India frequently for the children to meet my side of the family and strangely the children and Hubert prefer spicy Indian food rather than heavy German cuisine.”
Now living in California, Joy Chase says, “I remember Bangalore from the Forties. We lived in the State Bank of India house on St Mark’s Road. It was a beautiful six-acre park with the bank downstairs and the manager’s living quarters upstairs. My sister and I would count the carriages on the roads. She would count the white horses and I would count the black or vice versa. I had a hard time getting a visa to come to the US even then, but I came here to study and never went back.”
Attending a conference once, I got off the plane in Dusseldorf late at night. From there I had to make my way to Bonn by train. Even though that just means taking an elevator down to the railway station from the airport, buying a train ticket has to be done out of a machine using strange currency. Suddenly I heard the familiar and welcome sound of Tamil being spoken and a group of Indian engineers appeared. In a trice they punched out my ticket, helped me insert my 20 Euro note and in helpful Indian tradition, guided me onto the right platform and train.
“We speak German, but prefer conversing with one another in Tamil,” they said and had come to work in Dusseldorf from Chennai.
