by Asha Miro
Many people think that it is not worth the effort, that they will not find the information they are looking for. But I would urge all those who were adopted when they were very young and might have thought of making the journey one day, maybe when they are a little older, to put aside the notion that it is not worth the effort and to take the chance of returning to their country of origin. It is worth it to find the street where you have always been told you were discovered in a cardboard box, or basket. To go to the door of the post office, or a pharmacy, or to sit on the steps of that hospital where you have been told you were left in plain sight so that you would be found right away. Once there, pause to look around you, listen to the sounds that might possibly be the ones you heard when you were very small. Look at the light in that place at different times of the day and try to imagine a father or mother who loves you but cannot take care of you for whatever reason, which unfortunately often turns out to be the case, and left you there thinking that someone would find you and give you a better life. Quite probably they were not mistaken and it has been so.
It is worth going to the gate of the orphanage where you spent the first months or years of your life and trying to get in to speak to those who work there. Try to find out if any of the people who were there at the time are still there and might remember you, or at least remember what things were like when you lived there.
The rain continues to fall as we pass through the outer quarters of Mumbai, which I recognize immediately. And without looking away from the window I think that now I feel more Indian than ever before, although, curiously enough, more Catalan too. It is difficult to explain and it is not easy to find the words. I suppose that it is a feeling that I can share only with others who have been adopted, who have made a similar journey to mine, who have found important members of their natural family, who have managed to see close-up, if only for a few moments, what their lives would have been like if they had not been adopted. They should remain proud and happy with the lives that they have lived with their adoptive parents, just as I am, and return home with this dual sense of belonging.
As evening falls, the bay road leading to the district of Colaba skirting the sea is jammed with cars, motorbikes, and taxis sounding their horns. The vendors selling freshly cut garlands of jasmine wander between the stopped vehicles, holding their merchandise in their hands. A lot of drivers buy them to improve the air inside their cars or else to take home with them.
It has not taken another twenty years for me to come back to India, as I thought it might at the end of my first book, and now I know that it will not be as many more before I see myself reflected in the waters of the Godavari, as sacred as those of the Ganges.
Mumbai-Nasik-Barcelona, June–October 2003
A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR TO THE PEOPLE INCLUDED IN THIS STORY
Any inaccuracy in this account is due to the passage of time, which has erased some tracks that proved difficult to find. I have tried to reconstruct it from everything that was told to me, at times lending more weight to some sources than to others, but always with the best intentions.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The first part of this book would not exist without the indispensable help of Gemma Sardà. She had the patience to spend hours listening to my story and helping me to structure it and give it form, to decipher the notes in my diary and rewrite those in my mother’s, so that we could publish them. Thank you, Gemma, for all your dedication.
Thanks to my mother, for having started a diary for me in a notebook with red covers, when I was still in India, and later, over the years, consistently writing from day to day, to make it easier for me to understand my new life, the way it was. Thank you also for allowing me to insert a few fragments from that very personal diary into the pages of this book.
Thanks to my father for his unconditional love, with whom I feel a profound, unlimited bond. Although he does not appear too often in the pages of this book, his presence and his support have been constant since the first day.
Thanks to Fatima, my sister, for allowing me to tell her story as well, which is very closely bound to mine.
I am grateful to Carme Jané and Arturo San Agustin for having given me the necessary motivation to dare to talk about myself.
I am grateful to Paco Escribano for having persuaded me to write, and having introduced me to Anik Lapointe, my editor, who has always had confidence in this project.
Thanks to Vincenç Altaió, friend and brother, for his sympathy and support.
I will always lack the words to fully thank Francis Waghmare. The image of him traveling around the villages surrounding Nasik on his Vespa in the monsoon rains looking for my biological family will, for sentimental reasons alone, stay with me forever.
I am grateful to Anna Soler-Pont, my friend, literary agent, and soul sister, for accompanying me on this return journey to the Godavari and for being at my side at all times. Without her I don’t know if I would have managed to discover all the details of my origins. Her perseverance knows no limits! I thank her also for helping me to write this book.
Thanks to Jordi Llompart, Mikele López, and Grau Serra for being there too at my side and recording and living the most important moments of that magical voyage (with a good supply of Kleenex!). Thanks to Mikele and Grau for letting me use some of their photographs to illustrate these pages, and for their infinite support.
Thanks to Nirmala Dias, Merlyn Villoz, and Margaret Fernandes for their help and all the love they gave me. Also to the sisters at the Dev-Mata convent in Nasik: Josefa, Zoe, Meena, Elsy, Stella, and Kanta.
I would like to thank all of my biological family in the villages of Shaha, Kolpewadi, and Ujani for receiving me with so much warmth after so many years.
Thanks to Frederic Sopeña for his hospitality in Mumbai and for his advice.
Thanks to all the people who have endured my worries and anxieties both before and after this journey. In particular I am grateful for the patience of Fatima, Ricard, Marina, and Bernat.
Thanks to all the adopted people who have approached me to tell me their stories and for helping me to understand the details of my own. Thanks also to the mothers and fathers, grandfathers and grandmothers, and all the families and friends who have experienced an adoption personally, for their support.
GLOSSARY OF INDIAN WORDS
(THE MAJORITY IN MARATHI)
Baba Form of addressing a father or an old man to show respect and affection.
Chapati A kind of Indian bread made of flour and water and baked on the fire, eaten with every meal.
Dhal Typical dish in Indian cuisine that is eaten all over the country and is made of lentils with spices. It is like a soup. Families with limited resources live on dhal and chapatis.
Diwali One of the most important festivals in India, it is celebrated for five days between October and November, during which, among other things, a lot of lanterns are lit in the streets, the temples, and outside the houses.
Gandhi topi White beret that is worn by men in India, especially in the rural areas. Originally a symbol of being a follower of Gandhi and, above all, opposed to British colonization. It continues to be a nationalist symbol but its frequent use is due to the fact that it is much more practical and comfortable than the pheta (turban).
Ganesh Hindu god in the form of an elephant. It is the god most dear to the Hindus, the god of daily life.
Ghat Stone steps that descend to the sacred rivers of India for people to do their ablutions, to say the relevant prayers, and to wash their clothes.
Pakoras Indian snacks, which can be fritters, samosas (small fried pastries), meatballs, or made with vegetables and rice and other foods that are easy to make and quick to eat.
Pheta Small turban made with a long strip of cloth, traditionally worn by all men working in the fields. Usually white, but also seen in red and green.
Puja Prayers, Hindu ritual that takes place several times a day.
Rickshaw Taxi that can carry two or three
people, consisting of a motorbike with a small cabin. In some cities the rickshaws are also bicycles that pull a small cart big enough for two people (though at times whole families can be seen being pulled by a poor driver cycling furiously).
Rupee Indian currency. In 2005, one euro was worth 53.6 rupees; one dollar is equivalent to 45.7 rupees.
Saddhu Hindu religious man dedicated to contemplation. The majority are characterized by the fact that they walk around practically naked, with long white beards and necklaces. They live on alms.
Sai Baba Indian saint, considered a divinity by the poorest people of India. Pictures of him, an old man with a white beard, are to be found everywhere: in cars, houses, offices, and so on.
Salwar kameez Typical clothing of the countries of the Indian subcontinent (India, Pakistan, Bangladesh) that consists of trousers and a long shirt that reaches down to the feet. The men tend to wear light-colored plain cotton ones; women usually wear printed cloth and more sophisticated material.
Sari Typical clothing of the Indian subcontinent consisting of six to nine meters of cloth (depending on the style of the sari) that is wrapped around the body above a skirt and a short blouse. They are a variety of colors and patterns, and are worn differently in each area.
Shiwar A term describing the outlying districts of a town, somewhere between a suburb and an area or neighborhood.
Sikh Indian religion. Sikh men are characterized by the big turbans they wear, which hide their long hair that they are not allowed to cut.
Taluka A collective name for a dozen or so villages in a district in one of the various states in India. Each district comprises around fifteen talukas.
Vasti Small house in the rural areas built for people who work the fields or for factory hands. Normally they are owned and constructed by the same family, with the help of neighbors.
1 Old Native American saying—Trans.
2 Appears in English in the original—Trans.
3 Appears in English in the original—Trans.
4 “I fell in love with three moorish maids, in Jaén; Asha, Fatima and Marien.”
