81. Puffed Up Arms in San Francisco

Early 1966

I thought about it most of the night and chose not to return to the hospital that morning as I knew it would be far too difficult to leave at all.  

I trusted Alok was safe and I hugged and kissed my children before leaving for the few days I assumed I’d be away.  My previous job at Santa Ynez I had left on good terms and with positive reference, as was my habit of doing.

I knew in my mind that if I was going to get to Fiji it was now or never.  Diana drove me to the station so I would catch the 10a Greyhound into San Francisco.  After dropping me off she went back to the hospital to bring Alok home.

For the most part it was a straight through drive up north with only a few key stops along the way.  I arrived some time that evening just after the dinner hour.  Upon arrival in San Francisco I took a taxi to a friend’s apartment.  I’d known Morris since Fiji.  This is where I’d stay for nearly a week.  

It just so happened the Seafarers’ International Union of North America was across the street from his apartment building.  What were the odds?

Next morning I took that fateful walk across the street and made myself known to them, stating my intentions and then fell into their process.  One of these things was to take their form to a doctor (choose one from a list f I didn’t have one up there, which of course I didn’t) for shots, check-up, etc.,  whew!  What a lot of technical to-dos.  

I returned to Morris’ apartment late that afternoon with the certificate of completion of the union’s medical requirements.

I also had the need to go to bed.  My arms were loaded with shots, painful, swollen and these caused me to feel quite ill.  Well I was forewarned by the doctor this most likely would be the side effect.

I did manage to call home and check with Diana about Alok’s health, how Amar and Asha were doing, how she was getting on, things at home and you know, stuff.  

She comforted me, telling me that all is well and how wonderful it was having Susan and Lisa with her young son just next door.  I told her about the not-so-fun time at the doctor’s office.

Fortunate for me, Morris’ wife nursed me a bit, fed me good Indian food and I was able to rest the remainder of the day and the night through.  The next two days I was really a mess.  I felt much better the third day.

In that next morning I returned to the Seafarers’ Union office to submit the doctor’s completed form and certification showing I had all the proper vaccinations.  

After what appeared to be a thorough review the staff behind the counter gave back to me all of my papers, the ID clearance card which I had previously obtained in Long Beach and my identification to include my British passport and my Green Card.

I was instructed to sit with the other fellows over in the reception area.  We would wait. Little conversations took place, something to pass the time.  I noted I was the only Indian, there was a small handful of African origin gents, a couple of Irish men and the rest were American or something.  I’m guessing.  It’s not really important, is it?

My name was called and I went back up to the counter.  I was told,  “We need a waiter.”  The one agent asked if I was experienced.  I replied, ‘Yes and I have worked on a ship before.’  I was then instructed to throw in my ID card, like literally.  

It felt like a gamble; it’s the way they do it.  Other people reviewed my papers and near immediately I was accepted for the position.

Next thing is I’m being told where the ship is docked.  It was at my own expense to get to this ship.  The location is on Suisan Bay at Concord, California.  I’ve been given everything I need to report to that ship.  Grateful for the job I returned to Morris’ apartment and shared my exciting news.  

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Suisan Bay   a part of Contra Costa County which is located in north-­central California.  This is where you’ll find the Concord Naval Weapons Station.  That’s about 70 miles southwest of the capital of Sacramento.  

 

80. Baby in A Tent

The hospital staff had been very attentive monitoring his condition and doing whatever they could do.  I kept vigil by my son’s side late into the night, eventually slumped over in a bedside chair.  

At some point after midnight the night doctor entered the room.  He looked over his little patient -who was nearly one year at this time- and then told me he felt Alok was out of immediate danger.

He advised me to go home and sleep awhile.  I was rather hesitant but at last I gave in.  We lived so close and that was something of a comfort.

I slept hard, the phone didn’t ring (we saw that as a good sign) and after a light breakfast Diana and I headed to Alok.  Before we stepped into his room we were at the nurse’s station to let them know we arrived.

The on-duty nurse said he looks real well considering all he went through …she then told us that during the night he took a turn for the worse!

What??  What is the reason they didn’t call us?  She said because it all happened so quickly and just as fast they brought him back out of it, they were getting to the call.  “…oh but he’s doing so much better now!”  We were beside ourselves with shock and saying no more went straight away to the room.

No sooner we walked in when Alok saw us through the tent.  He then leapt up and with his little arms extended and fingers wiggling frantically he repeatedly said in his baby words, “My daddy, I want my daddy!”  and this daddy knew exactly what he was saying!

Well not only did that squeeze my heart bringing tears of joy to both his parents’ eyes, it was reassuring to see all that energy -especially after what we were told about earlier that morning.  Seeing him looking so well we all but forgot about the missing phone call.

It was advised Alok stay in the hospital one more night for observation.  We embraced him through the tent; I wanted to squeeze him so tight.

Not understanding his surroundings he repeatedly cried, “Go home!”  For such a little guy he tried desperately to get out of the protective tent.  

Diana and I stayed with him most of the day.  We played with him and read to him and watched him sleep.  Alok’s condition was rapidly improving and I’m sure it had much to do with his parents’ presence.  

That evening we went home after constantly assuring him that he’d go home with us in the morning.  Admittedly it was very difficult to leave him and we had to wait till he was napping again.  

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45. At Last I’ve Been Dealt the Perfect Hand – Monday

January 1959

The American Consulate’s office had arrived on Cumming Street in Suva, providing a green light at my crossroads.  It was a Monday morning when I headed towards their front door and there was only one thing on my mind, immigration to the United States.

I seem to recall a 3-story building housing a Chinese restaurant on the street level, the consulate’s office above taking the entire 2nd floor, with the 3rd floor being irrelevant to me.

A short hike up the stairs and I was inside the office, looking curiously around.  There was a woman sitting at a desk.  She looked up at me and asked in a kindly voice, “How can I help you?”  I responded, ‘This is the American consulate’s office?’  She smiled,  “Yes.”    

‘I would like to apply for a permanent resident visa so I can live in the United States,’ I stated eagerly.

She got up and excused herself going into one of the rooms somewhere behind the front office.  She returned with a stack of forms for me.  I met her back at the counter.  

“Read all the requirements, fill all these out and be sure to gather the necessary documents which are listed on this page..,” she was pointing to the list.  “…and when you’ve completed everything, bring the entire packet back here and we’ll move to the next step from there.”

I told her my name and asked for hers; Theresa, she told me.  I extended my hand to shake hers and left the office.  On my way down, at the last step before I exited the premises with my stack of forms, a thought hit me like a thunderclap.  ‘Wait a minute,’ it started.  ‘Didn’t I do this years before?’  

I turned right around and marched back up those steps with even more determination than before, feeling a whole lot closer to my goal.  Theresa was at her desk and she looked up at me again, just as before and this time she said, “What? You’re back again!”  

She was grinning at me.  “Did I forget something or maybe you’ve got something for me?”  I shook my head and with a return smile I stated, ‘Not really but I have a question.’

“Go ahead,” she said.  I asked her if the consulate kept old applications.  In an assured voice Theresa replied, “We keep everything.”  The look on her face told me she couldn’t wait to hear what I had to say.

I explained I had submitted a similar application years before; it was the spring of 1953.  I told her I had mailed it to the American Consulate in Noumea, New Caledonia.  She wrote my name and the year on a piece of paper.  She got up from her desk and said she’d go in the back and look for it.  

Theresa suggested, “Why not have a seat Mr. Masala. This might take a while.”  It may have been 15-20 minutes before she returned and with my file in hand -how about that!  She took it straight to her desk to spend a few moments reviewing the old application.  

Theresa asked me why I had not completed the application before.  I explained there were various particulars including timing and financial reasons.  She nodded, adding and subtracting pages, re-sorted them and restated what I needed now.  

It was the same as before really; the doctor’s bill of good health, no disease and such to include a chest x ray looking out mainly for TB, and financial letter of sponsorship.  Also needed would be a letter vouching a promise of accommodation when I arrive in the United States and lastly a police report clearing me as safe, respectable and without record person.

I knew I could take care of the list for I would be persistent in changing the direction of my life.  Theresa wished me success, “I wish you all the best Mr. Masala.  I think you are really ready for this and so we will see you soon, I expect.”

I smiled and thanked Theresa. This time I actually left the building and I went straight to work.  It took me all of 10 minutes on foot.

C - Sunset at the beach

At the end of the work day, I stopped to have my ice cold Guinness Stout with an excited feeling following me about.  I took the evening bus towards home.

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Theresa of course is a ficticious name for a truly helpful, sweet and kind person.