Delhi-based journalist Reshmi Ray Dasgupta wrote that when her mother Gayatri was posted to Berlin, she wanted to buy a cushion (kissen in German). But she inadvertently said, kussen (which means kissing). The shop assistant didn't waste a moment. He immediately landed a peck on her cheek, leaving Gayatri completely embarrassed.
In Cape Town, Gayatri entered a shop with a group of people which included one white woman. The salesman said that he would only serve the white woman. The white woman was outraged and the group walked out of the shop. ‘It was Ma’s “Gandhi-ji at Pietermaritzburg” moment,’ wrote Reshmi. ‘She resolutely shunned everything South African until apartheid ended 34 years later.’
Gayatri was in Washington when Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru made his third visit. At a White House gala, she was admiring the paintings on the wall when there was a tap on her shoulder.
When she turned, a man said, “Hello, my name is John. What’s yours?”
“Gayatri Ray,” was the reply.
“Ray? You’re Bengali!” the man said.
“How did you know I am Bengali?” she said.
“Ray…like Satyajit Ray, right? So, you’re Bengali!”
Apparently, a few months earlier John F Kennedy, the president of the United States, had watched Ray’s Apur Sansar.
The ruler of Sikkim, Chogyal got married to an American woman, Hope Cooke (Sikkimese name: Gyalmo). As a result, the American festival Halloween was celebrated in Sikkim because of her influence.
Sudhir Devare was the First Secretary of the Political Office. His wife Hema wrote that one night, as they settled in for the night, there was a loud thud at the door.
The servant Tulsi opened the door.
When Sudhir entered the drawing room, he saw a group of youths banging drums. Leading them was the Chogyal’s wife Gyalmo. Soon, Sudhir and Gyalmo started dancing. When Hema appeared in the drawing room, Gyalmo put Hema’s hand in her husband’s.
‘She left as suddenly as she had arrived, leaving both of us speechless,’ wrote Hema. ‘The next day the episode was the talk of the town.’
In 1980, Prem Budhwar was appointed as Ambassador of Ethiopia. His wife Kusum said that when they arrived, they received a shock when they discovered that the Ethiopian calendar consisted of 13 months. The 13th month consisted of five or six days in the leap year. The year began on September 12 and not on January 1.
Prem told the foreign minister that when he was in college he had an Ethiopian classmate by the name of Tessima Ibido who came to study on a Government of India scholarship. To Prem’s shock, and happiness, the Foreign Minister said that Tessima had just retired as deputy finance minister.
Kusum wrote, ‘Within a couple of days Tessima called and came over to our home. What a warm meeting it was between the friends! The clock stood still as they reminisced about the happy days of their youth spent together in Shimla.’
All these heart-warming anecdotes have been recounted in the book, The Other Side of Diplomacy, edited by Jayshree Misra Tripathi. The writing style is simple and clear. So, in effect it is an easy read. The stories are from the viewpoints of spouses of career diplomats who have served in Indian missions abroad.
However, as former diplomat Shashi Tharoor mentioned in the foreword, in the Women in Diplomacy Index 2022, brought out by the Anwar Gargash Diplomatic Academy, UAE, India ranked 26 in a list of 40 countries and the European Union.
‘About 16.9 percent of the ambassadorial positions in the [Indian] missions have been held by women,’ wrote Tharoor.
In this book of 16 essays, only two are by male spouses. Here’s hoping the gender imbalance will be corrected in future.
The stories are from countries as varied as Tajikistan, Ethiopia, China, Brazil, Switzerland, Austria, Zimbabwe, Russia and the Korean Peninsula.
While it may sound glamorous and exciting, in many places, the living conditions were rudimentary, and life was difficult.
When Anuradha Muthukumar went to Tajikistan, in the 1990s, she was told by the members of the mission that the central heating system in most homes ‘had either broken down or lacked the fuel or energy to keep them going. Civil war had devastated the economy, rendering repair or maintenance of utility services nearly impossible. There was almost no public transport.’
And nearly all the women had to sacrifice their careers so that they could be with their spouses. Now, perhaps, with remote work, it may be possible to work, no matter where the posting is.
The disruption to family life could be heart-breaking. Children have to adjust to a new education system, new language, and new classmates. And the process of adjustment can be traumatising.
Once somebody said, to one of the daughters of spouse Anita Sapra, ‘All this moving around must have been exciting.’
She replied, ‘I will never put my children through what our parents subjected us to.’ While this remark hurt Anita, she understood the sentiments behind it.
Shreedevi Nair Pal wrote that once the Head of the Chancery came up to her and told her the allowance for a national day reception would not cover professional caterers.
‘So, there we were, my cook and I, making monstrous amounts of kebabs, chicken tikkas and samosas for about five hundred people,’ wrote Shreedevi.
She confirmed that spouses dealt with the ordinary people like the plumber, electrician and the baker, while their husbands, ‘mainly interacted with the social and political elite of the country they were posted in. And regardless of where they were posted, they never really had to step out of their comfort zone, as their work environment was more or less the same.’
For the spouse, to be able to communicate when the language was a foreign one, can be difficult and stressful, too. Of course, there were compensations, too. You met the most brilliant and accomplished people of the country. You saw the stunning tourist sites. This was always an enriching experience for the family.
And there were funny moments, too.
Once, in Baghdad, Shreedevi presented a beautifully wrapped gift to her husband, Satyabrata, on his birthday.
‘I will never forget the look on his face and the laughter that followed when he opened his gift,’ she wrote. ‘It was a hammer; the only thing that was available at Orodibaag, the government shop. Suffice to say it is still in use.’
Asiya Hamid Rao, while in Vienna, got a few party tips from another spouse, Mrs Menon of the Indian diplomatic corps:
a. Strike a balance between gravy and dry items.
b. Ensure the dishes are of different colours: green, yellow, brown, white and multicoloured.
c. Never lose sight of people’s religious sensitivities; hence, never serve food that is taboo for religious reasons.
d. It’s a good idea to ask your guests beforehand about any dietary restrictions.
When Anita Sapra was in Seoul, she took a taxi. When the driver came to know she was from India, he started singing a song from Haathi Mere Saathi.
‘What a rare sight to behold,’ she wrote. ‘Me in a taxi on the streets of Seoul singing a song in my own language. Later on, I learnt that Haathi Mere Saathi was a popular film in Korea in 1975. It was renamed Holy Elephant and many children thronged to watch it in theatres.’
However, tension always remained as perennial background music. It rose a hundred fold when a Prime Minister or a President came visiting. The pressure that nothing should go wrong during the trip could take an emotional and psychological toll on both husband and wife.
Or as Sharmila Kantha wrote, ‘I have accompanied first ladies during their state visits to India, sat through amateurish but enthusiastic community functions, stood for hours in heels to greet nearly a thousand guests at our national day receptions, attended numerous national day receptions of other countries, where I smiled inanely at people.’
Added Jayshree Misra Tripathi, ‘My heart used to beat a hundred times faster, as each Independence Day and Republic Day approached, hoping the chosen menu would suit everyone from back home – north south, east, west, northeast and northwest too – all fellow Indians. They always came first.’
The book gives us an insight into the difficult lives of spouses in foreign missions. There is an endless amount of adjustments to be done. With a busy husband, most of the time the wife has to tackle things on her own. She also has to handle the burden of the children’s stresses almost single-handedly as they try to adjust to life in a new country. What strikes the reader is the personal and job sacrifices these women have made, so that their husbands could have successful careers.
In the end, they were heroines in their own way.
(Published in kitaab.org, Singapore)
