KUMBANAD TO SEATTLE

FOR ME, GOING OUTSIDE THE COUNTRY WAS NOT ONLY AN exciting prospect, but a scary one. I had barely travelled beyond central Travancore, barring a single church-sponsored trip to the rural parts of Andhra Pradesh where like many other Kerala-based churches, the Mar Thoma church too was engaged in missionary activities.
Unlike going to Andhra Pradesh, if I were to go to the US, I had to get a passport. Those days the nearest passport office was in Madras, now Chennai. The process was to first apply at the district office. There would be a police verification and then the application would be forwarded to Madras from where the passport was to be issued. The whole process might take up to one year.
Unfortunately, I did not have one year at my disposal. By August 1971 my application was still stuck in the district office. I had only two weeks for my final interview at the US Consulate for my student visa. The situation was as vexing as it could be as I could not appear for my visa interview without a passport.
So I decided to travel to Alleppey (now Alappuzha) to meet the District Collector and plead my case but the Collector was out. I requested a meeting with Mr. Iyer, the Deputy Collector. Luckily, he agreed to see me.
I poured my heart out, telling him that this was my only chance.
I said would appreciate anything he could do. He asked the peon to bring my file.
After reviewing the file he uttered those magic words, "I will take care of this. You go to Madras next week and your file will be forwarded to the passport office". I could not thank him enough. Nor can I ever forget him in my life as there would be no Seattle Titus without Mr. Iyer.
I had total faith in his promise and the next week I headed out to Madras. As he promised, I could collect my passport a day before my final interview there. It was like a miracle. What would normally be a year-long waiting period had been shortened to an improbable one week!
The US Consulate visa process was three-fold. On Thursday, there was an English proficiency test. And on Friday there was another oral test. Also, I had to have a medical test before my final interview on Monday.
During this weekend I stayed with my cousin Sunny (George M. Thomas, the owner of Trivandrum International School and various other businesses these days) who was then going to Cater-ing school in Madras. I did not have a decent shirt or tie for the interview. Sunny offered me a new white shirt which was given to him by his uncle.
It was wearing this new shirt that I headed to the US consulate for my final interview. Luckily for me, only a few questions were asked and I answered them without much trouble. After the interview, I came to the front counter and asked the officer, "Shall I get my visa today?" It took me a while to fully comprehend his answer, "Of course. You can collect it in the afternoon".
Later that afternoon I collected my passport with the US visa stamped on it. I was overwhelmed with joy. I sent telegrams to both my cousin Tom and father sharing the good news. The next thing on the agenda was to take the bus and go back to Sunny so that I could return his shirt.
That day the state of Madras, now Tamil Nadu, had removed prohibition. People were drinking and having a festive time. Buses were crowded but I needed to catch one. I held on the side and jumped on to the footboard. The bus started moving forward.
All of a sudden somebody from inside pushed me. I could no longer hold on to the side and I fell from the moving bus into the middle of a busy road. Luckily there was no other vehicle on the road that could have run over me.
Some bystanders came to my help. I was not hurt badly but my new shirt was torn and I was bleeding all over. I took another bus and reached Sunny's place. I thought Sunny would be upset with me for ruining his shirt but he never said a word. Today Sunny is a leading business entrepreneur in Kerala and Oman.
He is as generous today as he was on that day in Madras. He does not consider his educational institutions in Kerala a business opportunity but a contribution to his community and the country.
Even though I got my visa in early September, I did not have the money to buy my air ticket to the US. Then, I remembered that my cousin Tom had agreed to help when he was home for his marriage in 1968.
The Aeronautical Technology classes had already started on the 7th of September but I had to wait for the money from Tom as my family could not afford the ticket. Finally, I received the money and I handed it over to the travel agent.
He agreed to get me a ticket from Cochin to Eugene, OR and a P form. Those days P form was required as per the rules of the Reserve Bank of India. It was mandatory permission to go out of the country and allow me to take all of eight US dollars out of India!
However, in my case, the travel agent failed to get the P form. So he had to buy a round-trip ticket which guaranteed my return and in this case P form was not required. I agreed to mail the return ticket back to the travel agent so that he could get the refund. Tickets were very expensive in those days and the travel agent was forced to agree to this arrangement as the failure to get the P form was his fault.
My trip on September 23rd was from Cochin to Madras where I stayed overnight at a hotel paid for by the airlines. Sunny visited me at the hotel and gave me travel tips. All through the trip, the airlines paid for all expenses including the hotel stay and trans-portation. You must remember that since I didn't have a P form, I could not buy any dollars.
The next day I flew from Madras to Singapore. Honestly, I was not aware then that it would take many flights before I would set foot on US soil. To my utter surprise, my travel agent was also on the same flight. Before I boarded he gave me an envelope which he asked me to hide in the pocket of one of the trousers I had in my cabin bag.
He also told me to pretend that I did not know him. In my suitcase, I was carrying only two pairs of trousers and two shirts, along with the inevitable banana chips, various spices and other edible things for my cousin Tom.
Not everything, as some were meant for my sustenance in a foreign land where I could use these ingredients to cook my food.

Unfortunately, I had not done any cooking till then, except for rice and coffee. Those days, the customs officers used to inspect all outgoing bags to make sure nobody was taking any money out of the country.
The minute they saw that I had only a few clothes they let me go as there were many others with bulging suitcases. When I landed in Singapore I gave the envelope back to the travel agent.
I then found out that the envelope contained US checks he was taking out of the country to buy electronic goods and other items that commanded a premium back home.
My flight from Cochin to Madras was on an Avro aircraft, an old propeller aircraft with 20 or 30 people but the aircraft from Madras to Singapore was a Boeing 707 aircraft. Since I was going to study Aeronautical Technology, I was fascinated by every aspect of the aircraft.
As the plane took off, I heard a thump noise and my fellow passenger affirmed that the noise was the landing gear going up and he confirmed it as they came down. The airline served breakfast. I was not used to sausages and doughnuts which reminded me about snakes, and I refused to eat.
When I reached Singapore my father's brother George was there to receive me at the airport along with another cousin Thomas, his wife Grace and son Babychen. Uncle George lived in Muar, Malaysia about 100 miles from Singapore. On our way, we visited my uncle John and a few other relatives. John was my Dad's brother but I had never met him since he had not visited India after I was born.
During the next two days I stayed with Uncle George in his government-provided housing. He was a civil engineer in charge of building roads for the Malaysian government. He had a son Sunny who was studying in Europe at that time. I stayed in his room.

Sunny had gone to attend the University of Oregon, leaving all his clothes back which came in quite handy for me during my initial few months in the US. My Uncle took me back to Singapore for my onward journey, he gave me 5 Malaysian dollars. That was the only money I had when I reached the US.
From Malaysia, I flew to Bangkok, Thailand where I stayed in a hotel for about 8-10 hours. A few minutes after I checked into my room I heard a knock.
I opened the door and found a young man standing there asking something in a heavy accent. I finally realized that he was asking me whether I wanted girls. I said no and closed the door putting in the deadbolt.
I was no longer sure what kind of place I was staying in, even though it appeared to be a high-class star hotel. It must have been a common practice to provide such services there. Later they took me back to the airport for my next flight to Tokyo, Japan. When I reached the airport I was asked to pay money for an embarkation fee. I refused to comply as I did not have $15.00.
I told them that it was not by my choice that I stayed here. I would rather go to the US directly. After they held me there for an hour or so they concluded that I was not going to pay the fee. So they let me go. I continued my journey to Japan via the Philippines.
When we landed in Manila, I did not go out to the terminal. It was another 707 and that plane was parked away from the tarmac. I walked around and looked at the big engines. I knew I was going to study these engines and work on them some day. Finally, we reached Tokyo.
None of the people spoke English and the communication was difficult. I could not eat anything. Everything looked so foreign and tasted bland. Result: except for some coffee I did not have anything. I stayed there overnight. I didn't sleep well at all. The next morning they took me back to the airport.
I came to know that the next leg of my trip to San Francisco was going to be on a Pan Am 747 aircraft. Pan American Airlines was the largest airline at that time. A relatively new wide-body airplane which can carry more than 400 passengers. I had read about it but never seen one in person.
This aircraft was something to behold. Four engines, double aisles with the capability of flying for long hours. Wow, what an aircraft. Seats, overhead cabins and everything was amazing to see. I had a window seat and watched with eagle eyes as the plane took off.
After about a couple of hours I felt something funny in my stomach. I was getting airsick. I would run to the bathroom for several minutes and return to my seat for a short period. Eventually, my sickness got so bad I stayed in the same bathroom until the plane landed in San Francisco.
It was the worst travel experience of my life. If windows could be opened, I would have jumped out. It was that bad. It was a huge relief when we finally landed.
I filled in my immigration and customs papers. Also, I gave them all my medical test results and X-ray which I carried with me like a precious commodity. The immigration officer returned them all without any scrutiny. But he decided to check my suitcase. He rang a bell and a few other officers came. They started scouring through my bag as if I were some kind of criminal.
One of them even started to sniff at some of the food items. lovingly packed by my mother. I tried to explain the ingredients to the best of my ability. After half an hour of making all that fuss, they told me to close the bag and announced that I could leave. To this day, I am not sure what they thought I had brought with me.
I soon made my way out of San Francisco International Airport towards the domestic terminal. Though my final flight, to Eugene, was only in the afternoon, I was at the United Airlines counter by 10 a.m. The lady at the counter said United had another flight leaving immediately and asked me whether I wished to take that option. I agreed.
In my exuberance, I had forgotten that Tom was expecting me to reach Eugene only by 3 p.m. and that my early arrival would cause problems. When I arrived in Eugene I requested at the United Airlines counter that I wanted to call my cousin.
They pointed me towards a pay phone. Once I dialed the number I realized that I could not make that call without coins of which I had none.
I promptly approached the United Airlines counter and told them I had no money. They were generous enough to let me use their phone. When I dialed Tom's number it was an American lady who answered. Neither of us understood each other. It was the telephone operator giving me Tom's new number, which I came to know much later.
What happened was Tom had moved to another house a few days before my arrival. He was unable to notify me since the only communication was by letter. He had told the phone company to give me his new number and that was what the phone operator was trying to inform me. Unfortunately, I did not understand anything then.
Another person at the counter asked me whether I had an address which I gave him. He said he was going to the city and agreed to drop me at this address. I was thrilled. I put my luggage in the trunk of the pickup and sat in the front.
During the drive, he kept asking me a lot of things like why I was there and what I was going to do. He was very nice. As we were driving I vividly remember passing a junkyard full of wrecked cars.

My eyes were transfixed on the cars that were being crushed by the machines, I could not but help wonder how these cars could have easily been declared road-worthy for another 8-10 years in India. I was amazed by the sheer scale of this place and watched with curiosity till we passed the vicinity.
Finally, we reached what I thought was Tom's home, as per the given address. He showed me the house and sure enough, the number on the house was correct. I knocked at the door, which was opened to my surprise by a young white American lady who bore no resemblance to Tom's wife, Glory.
I blurted out the essential words or so I thought "Tom Philip here?" That went way over their head. As we came to a stalemate, she yelled out something and soon enough another lady appeared. I repeated my perfectly logical question, but more slowly and with a lot of waving of arms.
Perhaps my words got through or it may have been the body language but the new lady asked me to wait a minute and disap-peared. The next thing I knew another lady, this time a middle-aged one, showed up. She said she lived next door and asked me, "Are you Tom's cousin?" and asked me to step into her house.
From her living room, she called Tom by phone and in no time, he showed up there. It was a great relief. That day I knew I could survive anything, even the most unexpected. I also learnt a lesson not to change schedules unless all the involved parties were kept abreast of the changes.
Glory, Tom's wife made a delicious lunch. After that, I crashed out, sleeping what felt like two days but in reality was only eight hours.
I was dead tired. About 9 p.m. Tom woke me up and told me that we were leaving for Seattle shortly. We drove for about six hours. By three in the morning, we arrived in Kent, Washington, a suburb of Seattle.
There, Tom took me to the house of his friends Cherian and his wife Aleyamma. They had kept the basement door unlocked. So, we went in and promptly started making our bed. No doubt they heard the racket we made because Cherian and Aleyamma soon came down and greeted us. Aleyamma was my cousin but this was the first time I was meeting her.
I did not know it then, but I was home. Kent was where I would live for the next 50 years.
I would get married in Kerala but bring my wife over here, build my business empire, buy mansions, bring up my children and continue to spend a good part of the year there even after finding an alternate home in sunny Florida.
But I never knew all that then, did I?

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