A Cowboy and an Indian Ride Into Town

“Keep your F***ing hands to your yourself.. you %#@!..” someone screamed!  That certainly got my attention… along with the attention of all the others on the bus. There was more screaming and commotion from the back where it  all started. The driver pulled the bus to a side and went back to investigate. After a few more minutes of yelling and screaming it became clear that a guy sitting next to a woman was pawing/pinching/sexually harassing her.  We had just left Lincoln, Nebraska, after picking up some passengers. I must have briefly dozed off  just as the bus rolled out of the bus station and then this happened. I vividly remember the decisive action taken by the driver. He turned the bus around and drove to the nearest police station and handed that guy off  to the police to loud cheering from the passengers. After that brief interlude we were off on our way to Cheyenne, Wyoming.

The way to San Jose

The year was 1985 and  I was ready to look for jobs as I neared completion of a Masters degree in Computer Engineering. It was obvious that I had to go to Silicon Valley, which was and still is the mecca for our field, to stand any chance of landing interviews.

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Posing in my brand new sports jacket and clip-on tie, for a future blog post (-:   (circa 1985)

When I came across a sweet deal from Greyhound – $29 for a round trip from Iowa City to San Francisco, I jumped on it.  It did not matter that I would be on the bus for over 52 hours (including breaks and bus changes) covering over 1900 miles. Back then I had all the time in the world and at less than 1 cent per mile, you just couldn’t beat that deal. When I got on the bus, I did realize the significance of traveling more than halfway across the continental United States on the historic Interstate 80, which originates near New York City and ends in San Francisco (2900 miles).


Road trip across the continental US on I-80

By the time we got to Lincoln, Nebraska – I had already spent over 6  hours on the bus, and I was getting used to the ride and the assorted fellow passengers. There was a core group of travelers making the long distance trip and then a lot of others who were just going to the next town or two.  I was the only foreigner on the bus. I was getting comfortable making small talk with the folks sitting around me. As expected, they were all curious about me  – who was I, what was I doing, where was I headed etc. Today there is a lot of awareness about all things Indian, in the US, but back then, an Indian traveling through some of those parts of the Midwest could be an exotic  “object of curiosity”.

The cast of characters

Here’s the motley crew that I was traveling with for most of that trip.

Chris & Terri : A couple in their 20s – going to LA (bonded immediately with Mr. Hollywood -as he was going to LA too).

Mr. Hollywood : A guy in his 20s,  a smooth talker, headed to Hollywood who  said that he worked in the movie industry.  He was throwing around names of different movies he worked on as a technician and the different stars he walked by etc. “One day when I was working late on the sets, Spielberg stopped by to check on the special rig that he had asked for. He is really an awesome guy, but a bit obsessive compulsive… you know the kind, right?” Being a born-skeptic, I could tell that he was making the stuff up, but for some reason the rest of them were totally taken in by the BS he was  dishing out.

Mike & Sherri : An older couple – going to Reno – where their son worked in a casino. Mike, who was a Vietnam War veteran seemed to know a thing or two about world affairs.  I clearly remember him saying “It’s too bad about Indeera Gandi.” (The Indian prime minister who was assassinated in 1984).

Katy : A good looking and very talkative young woman (probably in her mid 20s) from Des Moines going to visit her cousin in Sacramento. 

A rolling soap opera

The incredible stories that I observed and experienced with the fellow passengers during that long trip were truly fascinating and indelible.  Greyhound could run a hit reality show by just installing cameras in their buses and making sure to once in a while get extreme close-ups of the passengers with dramatic mood music thrown in for good measure.

The young couple (Chris and Terri) were very bubbly and seemed excited to be starting their new life in California. They were showing off their love for each other quite explicitly as well as quite frequently. They became friends with the Hollywood technician that they met for the first time on the bus. Mr. Hollywood was quite charming and had a good sense of humor.  Everyone was enamored by his stories of movie making.

I was quite excited to share a seat with an actual cowboy from Wyoming. We were seatmates from Omaha, Nebraska to Laramie, Wyoming. If I had a camera, it would have been a perfect “Kodak moment” (reference from 80’s and 90’s)  or a “selfie moment”. I remember this guy describing a long arduous day on the ranch where he was a cook as well as the farmhand and he listened to me with disbelief, when I described a world where folks did not eat beef (the primary product of their ranch).

Katy was quite outgoing and very friendly with all. But, I was convinced that she especially liked me, because of that one time she might have looked in my direction and smiled. Back then, I was incredibly naïve like that. She definitely had leadership qualities. At the meal stops she would take the initiative to lead the group to the nearby restaurants. When we were stopped at Salt Lake City and had plenty of time, she said -“The Utah Jazz play here… let’s go check it out”.  I had no idea who or what Utah Jazz was, back then. I figured she was taking us to some sort of concert hall. But we followed her as if she was the Pied Piper of Salt Lake City. She confidently pointed out places of interest as if she was a tourist guide. Sometimes, I felt like she was just making up stuff, but we all just went along as she was quite entertaining. I clearly remember her commenting about the Mormons  –

“They don’t even drink coffee”

“They are allowed to have multiple wives”

“I can’t imagine being part of a harem.. ha ha”

Conned in Laramie

When the bus was about to leave Laramie after our meal break, one of the passengers, Joe (who has been with us since Omaha), was standing outside, holding a brown paper bag, waiting for someone. He told the driver that he was holding this bag of money for someone who he met there and was expected to come back to collect it from him. It seems this person put his cash in the bag along with Joe’s money (eh?) and asked him to hold it till he came back from the restroom. Uh oh!  We all thought that was highly suspicious. As we were already running late, the driver asked Joe to open the bag to see if it actually had the money. Well, just as the rest of us suspected,  there was nothing but bundles of magazine clippings in the bag.  No money whatsoever. Joe was shocked.  He seemed like the  stereotypical trusting Midwesterner who fell victim to a conman. He reminded me of Woody Harrelson’s character from the TV show “Cheers”.  The full force of how he got scammed hit him and he was close to tears.  He had given all of his cash to the conman so he could put it in the bag along with his own “cash”. Obviously, the guy did a quick sleight of hand to swap the cash for magazine clippings. We all felt terrible for Joe and gave him some pep talk…

“Don’t worry about it. It can happen to anyone”, comforted Katy.

“Karma will surely catch up with that a**hole”, said Mike.

At the next stop, we all pitched in to buy a sandwich and fries for Joe.

Plot Twist

As the trip progressed, I had front row seat to some changing dynamics. Right from the beginning, I could tell that Terri was taken in by the charms of Mr. Hollywood. Gradually (over the period of 30 hrs. or so), I could see her laughing and hanging out more with him than her boyfriend, who just sat there sulking. By the time we reached Sacramento, she was sitting with the Hollywood guy. That certainly was a dramatic turn of events right in front of our eyes. A true cliffhanger,  whose ending I did not know, as I had to get off at the San Francisco stop.

Those People

While it was long and painful, this Greyhound ride gave me a wonderful opportunity to experience a world that I would not have otherwise. I traveled through areas of the US which are often derisively called “fly-by country” – the region between the more popular and populous metro areas of the east and west coasts.  After this trip, I realized that it is important for everyone to have similar opportunities to mingle with a wide range of people and learn about them. This sort of interaction (without any agenda of trying to convert others to our way of thinking), is the only way to bring people of different faiths, political leanings and social strata closer, to build bridges and to clear out the negative stereotypes that we all tend to carry with us about “those people”. 


I can guarantee you that there is a grandpa in Wyoming who at this very moment is telling the story of how he met an “Indian guy”, a “real Indian guy from India” on a Greyhound bus over 30 years ago and “guess what? He said that they don’t eat beef in India. Can you believe that?”

“That’s no big deal grandpa. I have many Indian friends at school. Some of them eat beef and some don’t. They even gave me these yummy sweets the other day, for their festival of lights – Diwali”.

That Was 30 Years (and 30 Pounds) Ago!

The Sendoff

I clearly remember the sendoff at Begumpet airport. The entire extended family and close friends were there. The airport was packed. The ratio of the passengers to “family and friends” was at least 1 to 50!! A majority of the passengers were headed to the “gulf” – which was a popular euphemism for either Dubai or Jeddah. There were several passengers that were getting the royal sendoff in the form of rose garlands, bouquets and “Tilak” ceremonies. Several group photo sessions were happening with different permutations and combinations of guests with the passenger. I was glad that my folks did not go overboard with the sentimental sendoff ceremonies. As it is, I was nervous and overwhelmed with all the attention and anxious about the long journey ahead into the unknown!!

Where the heck is Iowa?!

In the final year of B.Tech at JNTU, I followed the trend that was set by some of the  seniors from JNTU,  of  taking TOEFL, GRE and then narrowing down a set of US and Canadian universities (from Peterson’s guide).  I had applied to Ohio State University, the University of Iowa, and Georgia Tech in the US, and  McGill University and Concordia University in Canada. The choice of these was mostly based on the fact that I had heard of seniors from JNTU going there. Of all of them, only the University of Iowa gave me an admission (but no scholarship or financial assistance!).  At that point I was still waiting for results from two interviews I had – one for Engineering Trainee job in HAL and the other for a Master’s degree in Engineering Management (or some such..) at IIT Madras.  Since I didn’t have any better option at that time, we felt it would be prudent to apply and get the Student Visa (from US Embassy in Madras). Getting a student visa was a big deal back then. I knew a lot of students that got rejected – for what seemed like the flimsiest excuses. The day I had my interview – more than 70% of the students got rejected.  So when the interviewer asked me to collect the Visa at the end of the day – I just could not believe my ears!!

I had come to a fork in the road (a 3 pronged fork, if you will) – grad school at IIT or HAL job or grad school in the US. By early July, the Engineering Management option was eliminated (by the IIT folks). I wasn’t too upset. “It’s their loss” I said to myself. Then we found out that the HAL job results would not be finalized till late September.  So that is how the decision to go to the US was made easy for me by others.

In a great hurry I had to get a loan and start collecting all the data I could about this trip to Iowa. Back then I didn’t have a very clear idea of Iowa’s geographical location with respect to other big cities such as Chicago or New York!! Because of the magic of the internet, today’s students or other first time visitors to the US from India would know every minute detail of this country – including which mall or department store would have good sales for a specific item!!


Today, no one believes me when I tell them that I had not even looked at a detailed map of Iowa to locate Iowa City (with reference to Chicago, for instance) – where the University of Iowa was located. You have to remember that this was before the Internet, cell phones or even PCs.  All I could gather was that Iowa was going to be brutally cold and everything in  the US would be very expensive. Just to give you all a perspective – back then, $1 = Rs 8!!  But then, you have to scale everything down to that time as well. We were a typical middle class family and my dad owned a Vespa scooter (for which he took a loan). No fridge or telephone in the house. We did finally break down and buy a black and white TV (after all the neighbors had graduated to the color TVs!!

I had found out about another student (Narayan) from Hyderabad (Osmania) who was going to the University of Iowa for the fall semester. I managed to track him down and we connected and planned our travels together. Again – I cannot believe how I managed to connect with this other individual in a big city without – cell phones, email, SMS, Facebook etc.!! I guess there was good old-fashioned networking alive and well even before all these high tech advances.

My dad had found out about a Nizam’s scholarship that is given to students going abroad for higher education. They pay for half of the airfare. I applied for this and had an interview (somewhere near Fateh Maidan). As luck would have it, I was selected for this scholarship. I was ecstatic!! Nizam’s trust had only one stipulation – I had to use Air India.  Absolutely not a problem for me!! In fact, I thoroughly enjoyed Air India flights and service. A one-way ticket to Chicago was Rs. 8800.0. Nizam’s Trust gave me Rs. 4400 which was a lot of money back then. So I was thrilled and grateful to receive the scholarship.

Flying on Air India meant that I would not be travelling with Narayan – who found a better deal with KLM. So, we decided that we would meet up in Chicago and then travel from there to Iowa City (somehow).

While I didn’t have a clear idea of where Iowa was, everyone else seemed to know a thing or two about the place!!  Pack some sweaters they said. Don’t forget spices, daal and tamarind they said. Also, some pots and pans – “ ‘cos you should not waste your dollars on these over there!!”   As the D-Day approached, word started getting around that I was headed to the “States”. Several of my parents’ friends (whose kids were already students in the US) stopped by to drop off packages to be taken by me. Packages filled will miscellaneous sweets, spices and pickles!! We had almost 5 kgs of these! On the last day – we were almost considering removing some of my items to make room for these packages! Finally we managed to shut the suitcases – only after I sat on them while my dad forced the latch shut!!

 One-Way Ticket to Yankee Land

It is not an exaggeration to say that throughout the several flights (Hyderabad to Bombay to New Delhi to Dubai to Cairo to London to NY), I was at the edge of my seat, wide eyed and marveling at every little detail. I was like a kid in a candy store!! I was excited to get a window seat and I paid attention to every word of the flight attendant’s safety instructions – on every single flight – in case there were going to be specific details about that particular flight. I just could not believe that “the seat cushion could be used as a flotation device in case of a water landing!!” I thoroughly enjoyed the “yummy airline food” (probably for the first and last time! 😊). I had non-stop animated conversations with those seated next to me. If they were annoyed – I did not notice. I was in no mood to notice!! This was the first time I was on a plane. This was the first time I had left home to be on my own. Throughout my schooling and college years – I lived with my parents. I had never even lived in a dorm/hostel. At almost 22 years of age I was stepping into the world as an independent adult (something that most kids do right after high school in the west). There were some Hindi movies shown on the first segment (from New Delhi to Dubai). I do clearly remember watching a couple of Hollywood movies – “An American in Paris” and “Singing in the Rain” on the long flight to New York. That was my first intro to Gene Kelly and his spectacular musicals.

Like most other Indians my exposure to America and American pop culture was mainly from the Hollywood movies and James Hadley Chase thrillers (found out much later that he was actually a British author who perfected the American Gangster genre).  Based on the number of airplane disaster movies that I watched – I should be perfectly at home in any airport and airplane. Also, based on all these movies, I was expecting to be welcomed by a blonde and a brunette at JFK airport to take me home. Yes, I said a “blonde AND a brunette”, ‘cos even in my fantasies I am a fair person. If you are thinking- “what about the redheads, blacks and Hispanics?”. I agree, and I blame Hollywood for not having enough of these folks represented in their movies, thereby depriving them of roles in my fantasies! 😊

I didn’t have problem with anyone’s accent in New York or Chicago. I give credit to all the Hollywood movies that we watched in Liberty, Skyline and Sangeet for preparing me for this day!! I am certain that the Americans had plenty of problems with my accent – based on all the “Eh” and “Say what?” that I heard quite a bit in the early years.  I do have to credit my favorite author R.K. Narayan for some of the advanced orientation that I got from reading his “My Dateless Diary” – which was his travelogue describing his first visit to the US. Even though it was slightly dated – the essence of his experiences described in the typical RKN style of simple narration laced with subtle humor did make a strong impression on me.

My first impression of New York was limited to that of JFK airport and the people I interacted there. I do remember the polite and smiling customs official who inquired about the packages that I had in my suitcases. “These are sweets only!!” I said with the typical Indian bobble head which indicated a hybrid between yes and no. I am sure he did not understand a word – so he took a pocket knife and cut a hole in the sweets box and then stuck a finger to make sure it wasn’t some sort of drug. Then he let me go. It would be at least a week before I would be oriented enough in this country to be able to pack this box of sweets up and mail to my parent’s friend’s kid.

Kindness of Strangers

On the flight from New York to Chicago, the kind American lady sitting next to me helped me with the descriptions of the food being served. I was surprised that she was able to relate the food in terms of common Indian food items. I believe that it was Angel Hair Pasta that she compared with “Saemiya upma.” She could probably sense that this was my first time in the US. During conversation I told her about my destination (Iowa) and my plans of going there on a bus after meeting up with my friend the next day at the Airport.

At Chicago’s O’Hare airport, after the luggage was collected, an Indian gentleman approached me and introduced himself as Narinder Suri. He was the husband of the white lady that was seated next to me. They along with their 7 year old son had just come back from vacation in India. Mr. Suri asked me about my plans. When I told them that I had planned to stay in the airport till next evening (for my friend’s flight to arrive), he graciously offered to take me home for the evening and then drop me back at the airport the next day.  After more than 24 hours of travel I was tired and exhausted and was thankful for their kind offer. At the same time I did not want to be a burden on them. They had just returned from a long vacation and the last thing they would want is to shuttle me around to the airport and bus depot the next day.  Mr. Suri insisted and convinced me that it was not a problem for them. So I happily agreed to go with them.

 After I left my suitcases in the locker (to be picked up the next day), Mr. Suri’s friend picked us up from the airport for the 20 minute ride to Schaumburg.  My first impressions of the American highway system and the nearly empty (by Indian standards), clean roads and all the greenery was from this trip to Schaumburg.

Finally we reached the ranch-type single family home of the Suris in the quiet suburb of Schaumburg. I helped them with the luggage as they began unpacking and picking up the piles of mail that had accumulated during their long vacation. Mrs. Suri gave me some clothes to change into and put my clothes in laundry.  In their comfortable guest room that night, I had a very restful sleep – on my first night in the USA.

The next morning was a beautiful sunny Saturday morning and my first weekend morning in the new country and everything was new – the buildings, surroundings and people. Yet, I did not feel uncomfortable at all because of my host’s friendliness and warmth. After breakfast and shower Mr. Suri had to go to a bank and took me along for the ride. I was so impressed by the open and clean suburbs shining in the bright sunny day. Mr. Suri gave me my first orientation on how banks work in the US, about ATM cards and even mentioned about “Money Market” accounts!!

Later that day I helped with some gardening work – weeding and clearing some brush. After an early dinner, I bid farewell to Mrs. Suri and their son. Then Mr. Suri gave me a ride back to O’Hare airport, where we had to pick up my luggage.  When we opened the locker, to our horror, we found that red oil had leaked from the mango pickle jars that my parents had packed for me!! This was a terrible mess, and Mr. Suri had helped me get some wipes from the restrooms and clean it up.

Then after figuring out that it would be impossible to connect with my friend at O’Hare, We decided that it would be better for me to proceed to the Greyhound bus station in downtown Chicago.  Mr. Suri then drove me to the bus station and got me settled on the bus to Iowa City with the entire luggage (including the leaky pickle jars lugged from halfway around the world!!) carefully loaded on.  There was no way that I could have managed all this by myself. I am thankful and forever indebted to the Suris for being so kind and taking care of me in all possible ways when I needed this the most. I then bid farewell to Mr. Suri and promised to send him a copy (cassette) of  “Call of the Valley” by Shiv Kumar Sharma and Hari Prasad Chourasia, which was my favorite music back then (Amazingly, it still is one of my all-time favorites). Just  as the bus was getting ready to leave, Narayan also managed to get there and hop in..

Final Destination: Hawkeye Country

The bus journey from downtown Chicago to Iowa City was just a blur – as both Narayan and I got hit by a severe case of jet-lag!! We woke up just as the bus pulled into the Greyhound Bus terminal in Iowa City.

It was Saturday evening around 10:00 pm. Iowa City is a small college town with a population of about 50 to 60 thousand, most of which are students and staff at the University. Everyone in town is directly or indirectly associated with the university. We left our suitcases in the locker at the bus terminal and started walking in search of Narayan’s friend Nirmal’s apartment. We were armed with his address and a phone number. After inquiring, we had to walk just 3-4 blocks before we were on Washington St. From the look of it, we could immediately tell that this was a “happening” place.  This was downtown Iowa City and the university buildings were right there in the downtown. If you are imagining downtowns with tall buildings and crowded streets – you would be mistaken. This was a typical university town (as I found out much later).  There were partying students everywhere—even at 10:30 pm!! This was the weekend before the fall semester would start – which, of course, is the perfect time for students to relax and have fun without the worry of projects, assignments, or exams.

As I stepped into this environment – I was the typical FOB (Fresh off the Boat) Indian (as I found out much later) – staring at everyone as if they were from another planet!! You’d have to forgive me – as I was the one who quite literally came from another planet/culture. I was not used to seeing college students wearing shorts and  tank tops. The loud partying of uninhibited students, induced by a liberal consumption of alcohol, on the streets  was a sight to see for us newcomers. It took a semester or so for me to gradually lose this desi bad habit of staring!!

We walked up and down Washington St. to try and locate 222 ½ E. Washington for what seemed like a long time. I thought we had some crazy addresses back in Hyderabad like 6/3/596/32-12B but 222 ½!!?? (BTW, I later on found out that this is an anomaly – and have not come across this sort of fractional addresses anywhere else in the US.

With my friend Ravi outside 222 1/2 Washington St. where I lived
With my friends (L-R) Ganesh, Nagesh, and Ravi (far right) outside 222 1/2 E. Washington Ave. where I lived in Iowa City

While walking around the throngs of students, in one of the plazas across from a Baskin Robbins, we ran into a group of Indian students. Based on their clothing and mannerisms – we could tell that they were not FOBs like us, but were seasoned veterans of at least a semester or two. We approached them to inquire about Nirmal. In that group of five, I could immediately recognize one of my classmates from 6th grade (in Kendriya Vidyalaya Golkonda, Hyderabad).  Wow!! What are the odds that I would run into Suresh  in Iowa City in 1983 after he left Hyderabad in 1972 or so!! Even more amazing was the fact that I could identify him after all these years!!  Everyone was amazed at the sheer improbability of this reunion!  After Suresh and I caught up on twelve years of our differing paths from Hyderabad to Iowa City, we explained to the group that we had just landed in Iowa City and that we were in search of Nirmal’s apartment. Unlike today, Iowa City was still just a small town back then and every Indian knew every other Indian. Of course they knew Nirmal and walked with us the short distance of two blocks to take us to his apartment.

That evening, after completing a full day in the US, I felt rested and relaxed among a group of newly formed circle of friends.  There was still long way to go before we moved to our own apartment and got comfortable with the school routine as well as bonding with friends – Indian and non-Indian.

In those early days and months, many strangers and some acquaintances (who became good friends and mentors) helped me with the transition from FOB to a confident desi in a foreign land. I am forever grateful for the support and generosity of Mr. and Mrs. Suri and Nirmal. Others who helped me a great deal in those early months are my friends Sandhya, VenkataRamana, Mukund and Jiji  as well as my professors and advisors Dr. Steve Collins and Dr. David Skorton. Thanks to the support and guidance of these individuals, I effortlessly assimilated  into American society in general and university life in particular. Also, because of them,  I  can honestly say that I never felt homesick in the new country even for a moment.

With my friend Kumar (left) in front of a motel we stayed at
(August 15, 1983) With my friend Kumar (left) in front of a motel in Iowa City where we briefly stayed


AT&T had a monopoly on all phone calls back in 1983.  International calls were very expensive (To call India it was – $2.95 for the first minute and $1.95 from the second minute on wards). I did a quick calculation of how many rupees would be depleted from my minuscule bank account, if I made a call to inform my parents that I arrived safely. So instead of calling, I just wrote them a nice long letter about all the details of my journey and all the wonderful people I met that made me feel comfortable in my newly adopted country. That letter reached my parents in Hyderabad after 3 weeks!! For these three weeks  my poor family had no idea what happened to their son, who had the grand sendoff at Begumpet Airport!! In today’s world of Skype, Facetime, email, SMS, and international phone calls for 1 cent/minute etc. – this is totally unimaginable. Right now, I am looking forward to the next 25-30 years—By then we will have equally unimaginable changes that will make Skype, Facetime etc. seem like Stone Age tools!!