SORRY, I HELPED A THIEF!

I was in a student exchange programme to Canada years back. We were 21 from India and joined an equal number of students from Canada at Toronto. Both sides, initially, were fueled with a ferocious sense of competitiveness, mutual distrust and culture shock.

Indian: “You wipe your arse with paper…we wash with water. How unhygienic, smelly arse!” Canadian retorts: “You guys have lice in your hair…everyone’s head must be checked.”

Indians (implicitly): “Indians got through to this programme after some grueling tests and interviews, orientation programmes conducted by the National Cadet Corps.

The Canadians did that by selling T-shirts of Canada World Youth to fund themselves for the programme!  Well that’s how highly we rate you – glorified salespersons.”

But apart from being ‘glorified salespersons,’ the Canadians were superb mind-readers.  So there was always this cold-war.

This cold war was on in a small town called Starthroy, some 110 kms from Toronto. We were provided a host family to stay for three months. Me and my Canadian counterpart, Pat stayed with a Pastor’s family. Similarly, others were paired and allotted host families.

The entire group was split into three groups and sent to three different towns. The other two groups stayed at a town called Blenheim and Amherstburg, in Ontario Province.  

Initially, we Indians due to these 'misunderstanding' gelled among ourselves in the evenings, the Canadians did likewise. We were so different in all conceivable ways, we thought.

Moreover, the Indians had strict instructions not to smoke, drink or drive. The Canadians did not have any of these restrictions. So we smoked inside toilets and fanned out the smoke through the small toilet vents frantically.

Smoked behind bushes, while swatting bugs and all the while cursing our counterparts.  The Canadians smoked luxuriously  – we despised this preferential treatment.  But hey! We were from two different countries with different culture, lifestyle, rules and toilet habits.

But over the weeks and months, we were able to literally keep the toilet paper and water behind. All the lice jumped into the Niagara. Started to appreciate the qualities and hard work of salespersons.

So one unimportant hot summer evening we decided to hit the bar together with chilled beer. We played pool, danced and almost got ourselves killed by a much-tattooed fugitive.

He thought we took his picture in the bar. These revelry and adventure brought us very close. From there on we got-together every evening in each other’s host family’s home after our volunteer work.

We occasionally partied hard. One evening the neighbours called in the police. We were partying with blazing music late into the night in one of the host family’s house. They were on a vacation to the Bahamas (I guess.)  

On a different note, we had over the weekends Educational Activity Days, which further bonded us. Each pair was given a particular subject, which was planned to make these interesting, fun and educative of course.

These activities helped us Indians to learn about Canada and Canadians. On Sundays attended Church in the morning and evening with the host family. It was a totally new experience for me, the sermon, the hymns, everything. 

We occasionally went to far-off places with the host family. These escapades were lovely and we met the extended families of our host. Played baseball, which I felt was lot like cricket. Lunched outside and made the best out of Canadian summer.

One of the best experiences of the programme was when me and Pat went to an Amish community. My host family took us there. 

I never knew such a world existed. We stayed in the community the whole day  with an Amish family. The whole place was unreal. The houses painted black, even the church.

Saw the Amish men ploughing fields with horses. We saw them riding the buggy. It transformed me to a different era, a different life. It was not me any longer. I wanted to be an Amish.      

I never knew that there exist such communities that would not use modern technology. Community living exactly the way people lived thousands of years back.

On many nights I thought of throwing away my passport and running away to the Amish community. Grow a beard, wear hat and take the horses to the fields.  

Anyway, mid-way through the programme the entire group went to stay in a camp. We stayed at the camp called Kee-mo-kee for a couple of days .

The log cabins. The entry into the wood in the night with just a flashlight telling ghost stories. Sleeping in the field just watching the stars in pitch darkness. These were awesome experiences.

After three months of such bonhomie, fun and adventure we packed our Dunhills and Du Mauriers and lot of love and memories. We landed in New Delhi  for the next lag of the programme.  (To be continued)