The life of the Bangladeshi expatriate

The 9 to 5 job holding middle aged Bangladeshi expatriate in the United States (please see note) visits Bangladesh once every two to three years. The visits usually last for 14 to 21 days, and generally take place during the summer months to coincide with school and university closings in the United States. The primary purpose of these visits is to meet the immediate family – parents and siblings; meeting old friends in Bangladesh is also an important but secondary purpose.

In recent years, the trips to Bangladesh have been serving an additional purpose – to obtain a Bangladesh National ID card, or to expedite the processing of dual citizenship documents or a machine-readable Bangladesh passport. The documents are necessary to facilitate a safe and potentially legal passage of inheritance money from Bangladesh to the United States. Although a majority of the Bangladeshi expatriates in the United States had originally come here with the goal of settling down in the land of the plenty, there was, perhaps, the flicker of a wish in the back of the mind to go back some time. As the expatriate has grown older and set increasingly deeper roots in his new homeland – moved into his own home, seen the children grow, leave home, and start their own families – the wish to go back has gradually faded. Making arrangements for the inheritance money perhaps is the final confirmation that there is no going back. This is the last stop of the journey.

Almost everyone comes back from Bangladesh with a happy face and a similar set of stories to tell. Conversation topics generally revolve around – Food was excellent – Traffic jams and Corruption, once the two problems are addressed, the country would go a long way – Dhaka has grown so much, you can hardly recognize it – and, Oh, people have got money, loads of it.

The joy from the trip, however, is short lived. In a week or two, the expatriate is back to the routines of the predictable old life – the chores of work, the often mundane conversations at the weekly get-togethers with other expatriates, and the occasional expression of commiseration to friends and acquaintances on the deaths of their near ones.

The first generation immigrant from Bangladesh is essentially an outsider in the United States. He did not grow up here, and he does not have the knowledge of the intricacies of the broader culture of his adopted homeland. He also does not have the time, the energy, or the desire to integrate with the larger society. Although he has lived in this country longer than the span of his life in Bangladesh, he remains firmly committed to the culture of the land he had left decades ago. The expatriate Bangladeshi lives physically in the United States, but the wonderful culture of his adopted homeland that has been shaped by generations of immigrants from the four corners of the world essentially escapes him.

The life lived as a social outsider can be painful. An important manifestation of the life in a cultural cocoon is the marked detachment of the expatriate from the lives of the children who grew up in this country. Although the children remain loving and respectful, they mostly hide the Americans in them, revealing only aspects of their lives with which their parents feel comfortable.

The saddest aspect of the life of the expatriate, however, is the realization that he is an outsider in Bangladesh as well. The land where he was born, went to school, made friends, fell in love for the first time, and had dreams of greatness – he does not have any meaningful connection to that land of his ancestors. He also does not have any chance of developing any meaningful connections during his short visits to Bangladesh. The trips are essentially guided tours – he is chauffeured to people and places – he is always accompanied by a friend or a relative – he does not engage in conversations with the locals – he is scared of the people and the place.

It was not like this before. The trips to Bangladesh used to be magical. The middle aged expatriate was once a young man, and he would be in a state of excitement for months preparing for the trip to Bangladesh. He would go back home with a newly minted degree, with the assurance of a new job, to show off the newborn - a brand new citizen of the United States. With suitcases bursting with gifts, his journey would begin from New York, Chicago, Washington D.C., or Houston. The cramped airplanes and the crowded airports would all be ignored – they were bringing him closer to home. The euphoria would set in when the pilot announced that the plane was in Bangladesh air space. The joy of landing at the Dhaka airport or the wild feeling in the heart when he would spot the first familiar face among the waiting throng was simply priceless.

The pure joy is gone, partially replaced with apprehension. Age does that to all. Also the fact that his connection to Bangladesh was essentially through the people he knew. Some of them have left Bangladesh. His parents, if still alive, are old and frail. His siblings and friends in Bangladesh have their own priorities. They give him time but the connections to the place that came easily to the young man are lost.

The expatriate Bangladeshi now understands the pain of the immigrants who had helped build this great nation. Driven by hunger, famine, persecution, and the desire to build new lives, millions of people from all over the world had come to the United States before him. Most of the early immigrants, however, could never go back to the land of their ancestors as they never had the necessary resources. Also, the persecution and the hunger that had originally driven them out were still there. They had no choice but to live in the United States.

The Bangladeshi expatriate apparently does have the choice of going back. Unlike the early immigrants, he is not constrained by a lack of resources or looming persecution back home. However, he rarely goes back. Leaving the predictable and safe life in the United States is too much of a sacrifice. He also loses the comfort of knowing that his children are only a short plane ride away. Healthcare considerations are another factor. Also, what is he going to do in Bangladesh? Who will help him with everyday chores? How is he going to shape his social life after a gap of two to three decades? Also, most of his old friends are now in the United States. His siblings, if still in Bangladesh, are busy with their own lives. And he has lost completely the street-smarts one needs to survive in Bangladesh. He cannot go back. It is not practical.

The expatriate Bangladeshi does not really have a choice regarding where he wants to spend the coming years of his life. He will stay in the United States. He will grow old here. If lucky, he will be independent, healthy, and will have his immediate family with him until the final days. His only real choice, it seems, is about where he wants his final resting place to be.

A Prairie Home Companion, a long-running National Public Radio (NPR) show is named after a cemetery in Minnesota. The cemetery serves the Norwegian community and was built almost 100 years after Norwegian immigrants started settling in the upper Midwest. According to Garrison Kailor, the creator of the show, it took the Norwegians almost 100 years to realize that there was no going back. How long would it take the Bangladeshis?

Note: Bangladeshi or Bangalee? We have been Bangalees for hundreds of years and we’ll remain so until the end of time. The political identity of Bangladeshi, in contrast, was first used only about four decades ago. However, following the current social practice, I refer to expatriates from Bangladesh as Bangladeshis.