In my first visit itself, I had been impressed by the single most fundamental character of the American society – the freedom and flexibility it provides to an Individual for choosing his or her life. I am aware of the fact that America is a big country and my observation is limited to only one of its states. It is also true that the spectrum of opportunities vary from rich to poor, among different races and colors. Yet, my conviction got stronger in my subsequent visits to that country through my interaction with different persons there. Incidentally, my first trip to USA was also my very first in any country outside India. As a consequence, during the whole period of my stay, I had been carrying the excitement of a discoverer of a new world, and what a wonderful experience it was for me! After two and a half months, when I came back home, I not only enriched myself with new knowledge and experiences in my own domain of academics and research, but I left also a few friends behind, whom I longed to meet again, and who influenced my views and understanding of the West. Ingeborg Comstock was one of them. I rented a room in her house during my visit. My host Sanjit-da (Prof. Sanjit Mitra) told me, “You are fortunate to get a room for such a short visit. Usually rooms are occupied by graduate students. The rent is also fairly reasonable, in fact, cheaper compared to the market rate. Your landlady is a remarkable person.” Indeed she was. Ingeborg, around 74 years’ old then, lived alone on her own. She was suffering from cancer on her hipbones. A few weeks before my arrival, she went through painful chemotherapy sessions. Unless she tells you, you would never know that she was bearing such a pain, that too all alone in her house. She was engaged in all the routine house-hold work with a smile on her lips. If you were a keen observer, you might have noticed that while walking, she was careful enough to put her every step on the ground. She used to walk slowly.
On the first day of my arrival, I had a quick lesson from Sanjit-da for settling myself in the new environment. In fact he took all the possible trouble and care for the task. He himself received me at the LA airport after waiting a long hours of my immigration check, took me to lunch and brought me to Ingeborg’s house at Goleta, which was about two and half hours drive from LA. After putting my luggage there, immediately we went for shopping for my daily essentials. He took me to a departmental store, showed how to get different items from its aisles, and introduced to me to different kinds of fast foods kept in a freezer, which were meant for heating and eating only. So that evening after my dinner at Sanjit-da’s house, when I returned to my new place of stay, I was totally exhausted and straight away went to the bed. Next morning, I had to rush to the University. I got up early and was looking for preparing my breakfast in the kitchen. The kitchen was common to all four of us. There were electric stoves and a microwave oven. I was planning to make bread-toasts and heat a cup of milk. I needed also to pack sandwiches, fruit, yogurt and juice for my lunch. So, I was looking for the utensils on the racks, and also examining the ovens to know how to operate. I did not notice, when and how Ingeborg stood behind me and was smiling at me. I greeted her, “Good morning, Mrs. Comstock!”
She answered back, “Good morning!”, and then apologetically told me, “Your name is very difficult to pronounce. But I must try. Please spell it to me.”
I told her, “You may use a short form.”
“No, No. I would like to get the full word.”
After a few trials she could get my name. Through out my stay she never faltered again, but was always careful to pronounce every syllable distinctly. Then she told me, “Call me Ingy! That’s what others also address me.”
She showed me then how to use ovens, the places where utensils were kept, the system of throwing trash, the washing machine kept in her garage. Finally she introduced me to her two pet cats, Pontam and Comura. She said to me, “Meet these two – a gentleman and a lady. The lady’s name is Comura, a pure Siamese breed. She is quite shy. She may ignore you all the time. But, Pontam, the gentleman, may try to draw your attention.”
My first day in the University went very fast as I was anxious to settle to my work place with the arrangement of the computer, and restoring my archived data and program in it. In the mean time I was also getting introduced with other members of Sanjit-da’s lab. Some were visitors like me, and some were MS and PhD students. I was introduced to a few of the faculty members of the Department. In the evening, when I came back to my new house, I found that the front door was closed and pressed the door bell. But there was no response from inside. I did it for a few more times. Then I thought that Ingy must have gone for a walk nearby. I guessed that among her tenants, I was the only person, who came back so early. My other two house-mates, Shan and Aaron, were PhD students, who should be busy enough to spend long working hours in the University. It was quite true. Though I could meet Shan in holidays or in the morning hours (and we became very good friends there after), hardly had I met Aaron during my stay. Anyway, I came to the drive way and started looking for Ingy. She was indeed found around. She was cutting hazes from her premise, which were stretching their branches to the sidewalk. She looked pretty tired and exhausted of her work. By drawing a deep breath she told me, “These are to be cut. Otherwise I may face a penalty for neglecting this work.”
I offered my help to her, but she refused by saying, “I am almost done.”
I asked about the key of the door. She got surprised, “Oh! It is open. Just push it and enter. We never lock the front door.”
“Even at night?” I was confused.
She smiled, “Even at night. Not only that front door, none of the doors, including yours, has any more key. Probably they are lost. But don’t worry. Nothing had happened in my house last thirty seven years or so.”
I never thought of cooking during my stay. I had a full week’s ration of frozen semi-cooked stuff for my dinners. But after two days, I could not simply tolerate their smell and threw all of them to the trash-bin. I requested Ingy, whether I could try my experiments with her microwave oven. I preferred it over regular oven, as I considered it would require minimum manual intervention, as well as washing would be easier. She was hesitant. But I showed her that in the microwave’s front panel there were controls for cooking different items including rice and boiling vegetables. She agreed though it seemed with some reservation. She also gave me the manual of the microwave oven on my request. The fact is that I was also quite nervous to see how it would go. This was the first time I was using a microwave oven. However, I was too desperate to get something eatable to my taste. Fortunately, it clicked. By trial and error, I could get the right combinations of power and time for preparing a few items of my choice. My constraint was that there were no Indian stores nearby. I had to get everything from American stores. But I was happy with my limited options, of rice, red lentils, eggs and a few vegetables, mostly boiled or fried in the microwave. I was thrilled with my innovation. Like every cook, I also got impatient to demonstrate my skill to others, and who could be a friendlier critic than a person who had the least idea of Bengali food. So I invited Shan and Ingy during lunch in one week end for a treat of my indigenous preparations. Shan readily agreed. But Ingy was initially reluctant. She told, “Chemotherapy has destroyed my taste buds. I do not wish to eat at all.” I told her, “You may try them for a change. This may help you regain your appetite.” She finally agreed to take a little of my preparation. As usual, appreciations were duly received. Shan’s observation was brief, “It’s good.” Ingy was careful enough to take the pieces of peppers out of the dish. Soon Shan and Ingy reciprocated. Shan made a Chinese preparation of pork in one week end. Ingy made salads of avocadoes, and boiled spinach. In one afternoon, she treated me with boiled artichoke and taught me how to peel its petals, and savor its lower part with a tip of mionese. Her garden had an apricot tree, which was full of fruits by then. In one week, she picked a good number of them and served us delicious apricot pie. Soon she became comfortable with my preparations and we used to dine together almost every evening. After our dinner, we used to chat, and sometimes played a few games of backgammon, which she taught me once.
Ingy was a great fan of tennis and golf. She would never miss a match of Wimbledon, which was being played during my stay. She also liked to read fictions. She introduced me to the world of Tolkien and gave me those hobbit-trilogies to read. She got quite surprised to know that I had not read three volumes of Harry Potter, which created a sensation world wide by then. However, in India, Harry Potter was yet to catch the imagination of our kids. Ingy loved to read those books, and was impatiently waiting for the release of its fourth sequel. On the day of its release, three of us, Shan, Ingy and I, went to the book-store to get a copy of it. Ingy wore the gown of a witch and gave me a magician hat to wear on. It was fun to see happy faces of all those kids and grownups with their Halloween dresses at the book stores. Sometimes in the week end, we used to go nearby places. Shan also joined our party. In fact in all such trips, he took us in his car. We visited the Mission Church, on the occasion of the Memorial Day. There an Italian street painting festival (called ‘i madonnari’) was being held. We also visited Solvang, a small Danish settlement, famous for its bakery and crockery. One morning, we went to the botanical garden, which had a fine display of flora and fauna of California. Ingy told me about her life on various such occasions. She told me about her parents, her sons and sometimes mentioned about her husband, who divorced her long before. From her, I could get a few glimpses of American life, which truly amazed me and made a lasting impression in my mind. Below I provide a few excerpts of her memoirs.
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She told me how her parents and family members migrated from Germany to USA. She said, “My father, Rudolf Henry Meling, was an accomplished carpenter. He used to make home interior furniture and other wooden stuff. My uncle, Rio, was also a carpenter. He came to San Francisco after the earth quake, as there was huge demand of wood work for reconstruction of the city. My mother’s sister also came to San Francisco around that time. They could make a little property there. Father worked in German army during the First World War. Immediately after the war, Germany’s economy was in a shambles. During that period, in the year 1926, my parents came to San Francisco. I was born there. My mother wanted to call me ‘Theodora’ - ‘Theo’ from my father’s name and ‘Dora’ from my mother. American nurses in the hospital gave me an American name in which those two parts were punctuated and put into a reverse order - ‘Dorothy’. But later my parents changed my name to Ingeborg. After coming here father started his business of making wooden staircases. It was running well. Then, looking at the improvement of US economy, my father hoped the same for the Germany also. So he sold his business and took us back to Germany with him. I was three years’ old then. My mother used to say that I did not want to talk in German at all. All the time I used to speak in English. We did not even stay for a full year in Germany. There was no improvement in German economy during that year. Moreover, the society was going through the turmoil of political anarchy. My father decided to come back to USA again. I never asked my parents, why we came back here. The question never occurred to me in my young age. Later, I did not have the opportunity to ask him.”
Ingy also told me about the days of initial struggle of her parents after their return from Germany, “We went through a lot of hardship and a period of economic uncertainty after our return. Though, my parents tried their best to keep us well fed and nicely dressed. We had very little idea about what was going on. Those were the years after Great Depression. For two years my father had no job. My mother was working then at a food-store. The family was dependent on her income. After a few months, mother had a fairly good amount of knowledge and experiences for running such a store. She took a loan from a German lady and started her own business. Her business was doing well. Our family got the stability. In the beginning of the Second World War, the navy needed carpenters for building ships. My father got a job there. He was there till the end of the war. In the mean time, my mother sold her business. She wanted to spend more time with us.
At the end of the war, father came back, and once again started his business of carpentry. He used to get many customers, who were looking for new designs of fancy home furniture. One day while working on a roof of a single storied building my father fell from the top. He was badly injured, and had broken his legs. For three months he had to be bed ridden. We thought that he would never be able to walk. But he had a strong determination. He used to do all sorts of exercises to move his feet, and later used to walk in his room with the beats of marching songs. When my father joined the rehabilitation center for physically handicapped persons, the management there recognized his skill for carpentry. They employed him for training others the workmanship of wood crafts. My father was quite aged then. Still he took this job with a firm commitment and great liking. Everyday he used to go there formally dressed, and taught his students passionately. From there my father retired from his job.
After his retirement, my parents went back to Germany, and lived in their ancestral house. Every two years they used to visit USA to protect their citizenship here. Second time when they came here, one day my elder sister rang me, and requested to take father from her place. He was suffering from a bad headache. As the kids were making noise at her place, it had been becoming very painful for him to sleep. My mother was visiting one of our relatives then. I went to my sister’s place, and took father to a near-by hospital for a check up. The doctors there looked very concerned, and informed us that the condition of the patient was quite serious. He needed to be admitted immediately. Next day on their advice, we brought my mother there. Till he was conscious, my father passed all the details of his property and stocks to my mother. He had invested in many good companies. That is why after his death, my mother did not face any economic hardship. She continued her visit to USA every two years, and lived a full life. Unfortunately my father went quite early. He could not enjoy his life after retirement. He was only sixty five then. That was in the year 1965.”
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Ingy was proud of her two sons, “They are now established. But they worked hard for it. As a person, both of them are gentle, kind, sensitive and good at heart. At times, they had to take critical decisions on their professions and personal life. When my younger son was graduated from his high school, he almost decided not to go for higher studies ever. It was around 1972 or 1973. We were fighting in Vietnam. Most of the boys in our neighborhood were opposing the war. The Government could get volunteers from neighboring villages, mostly from families living on farming. My elder son was also supposed to join the army. Fortunately, somehow, he managed to get a reprieve. Of course, the younger was not of that age, and did not face the similar trauma. From his childhood he was fond of gardening. During that period, people were becoming increasingly interested in decorating their gardens with local plants and flowers. My younger had a passion of hiking over the mountains around. While trekking, he collected varieties of seeds of wild plants, and grew them into saplings in my garden. My garden was full of such small pots containing those saplings. He often sold them in local nurseries. Besides gardening, he had another hobby – to build wooden houses. At the backside of my house, he built a wooden storehouse for keeping the tools and material for his work. He also built a tree house, and used to chat with his friends there. One day, all on a sudden there was a fire on it. It reached to our door steps. That evening I was having guests in my house for the dinner. When we came out, we saw smoke all around. We called them loudly. They were still in the tree house and came out one by one with caution. I also rang the fire brigade. However, before its arrival, with the help of my neighbors we could control the fire. From his young ages, my younger son used to put someone as his ideal, and he followed his every advice and action devotedly. So if the person betrayed his expectation, he would get hurt deeply. When he was in his middle school, one of his teachers planned for staging a drama on “Alice in wonderland”. My son participated with great enthusiasm and interests. He took the role of “Tweedledee”. But after a few rehearsals, for some reason the idea of holding the drama was dropped. My son got so disappointed and angry! He was practicing hard then – all the time imitating the voice of Tweedledee. His all efforts got vanquished by a single decision of the adults.
One of my husband’s friends had the knowledge of carpentry. My younger son joined him for learning to build wooden houses. When his teacher got an assignment at LA, he took my son with him. My son spent three years there. Then one morning, he came back, and was reflecting on his next course of action. I suggested him to go to one of my friends, who was a professor of English, and who could enthuse others to go for higher studies. The day he visited him, my friend gave him the form for admission to our city college. Next day he took admission. For five years he studied in that college, and did various course work. His interest in his studies grew rapidly. At the end, he used to demonstrate other students different laboratory experiments. There he developed his passion for Biology, in particular in Botany. Next he completed two years of graduation at UCSB in Botany. From the UCSB he joined the PhD program at University of Utah. Even after completion of PhD he had to be there for some months. He was not getting an assignment of his liking. Once he got a faculty position in a new University at Nevada. But he was against working in a state, which is run mostly by the earnings from gambling. After some times, he got a position in an independent research laboratory in the campus of Cornell University at Ithaca. Of course, he has to arrange his salary on his own by attracting research grant from different agencies. He has to write different proposals to these organizations, and if they get approved, then only his monthly salaries for a few years are ensured. Presently he is busy writing such a proposal. He is also an adjunct professor in the University, for which he has to take a few lectures per week and students are also permitted to do project under his supervision.”
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Ingy was fond of her daughter-in-law, and told me how her son got married to her.
“My younger son’s wife is a specialist in green house. She works in the same University, and her responsibility is to maintain their green houses. Two years back, she went to Europe to provide consultation on green houses there. She has a pretty large family – a number of sisters, almost all of them married twice, and having close bonds with their family members. My son met her during his stay at the University of Utah, and married her around ’90-91. During the ceremony, my husband and I were the only two persons representing from the side of the groom. My elder son was accompanying his brother on the dais as his best friend. In contrast, the number of members of bride’s family was more than sixty. So during the oath taking ceremony, when the bride asked the assembly of her family, whether they agree to the marriage, there was a great uproar, cheers, and laughter after wards. When our turn came, we shouted to our best to match them. It was really a great fun.
Initially my daughter-in-law was reluctant to go to Ithaca. She did not want to leave her house at Utah, where she spent her previous ten years with her three kids from her first marriage. My son convinced her by nicely summing up that the house where they would stay would become her home. They came to Ithaca and searched for a house. My daughter-in-law got some money by selling her house at Utah. They used all of it for buying a new house there. It was to avoid paying the capital tax on the sale. They wanted to stay close to the University. But they bought an interesting small house a bit far away from it. The builder of this house did not follow any existing plan of an architect. The main attraction of this house is a twelve acres land around it. There my son grows vegetables, and his wife cultivates flowers. They are quite happy there. My son made a mark in his research area. He is a member of NSF, and review proposals submitted to the foundation. My daughter-in-law initially faced problem in getting the right job. Ithaca is a University centric city. Not many opportunities are there. First she was working as a specialist of cultivation of flowers, but could earn little. Then she got an employment in teaching gardening to school kids. Finally, she got a call from the University, as it was looking for a person to maintain its green houses. After going through her bio-data, the Director of the University himself gave the appointment. I wished to be with them. But, I could not go there for last two years. I have become too weak to travel far.”
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Ingy also talked about her elder son, “He has been an idealist since his childhood. He was always calm and quiet, not so lively like his brother. But they had one similarity. He also did not go for higher studies immediately after his graduation from the high school. He was totally devoted to music. My husband was always cross with him, as he was not favoring his obsession. So as soon as my son turned eighteen, he left the house and rented an apartment in Santa Barbara. The days were not easy for him. How could you earn money just by singing at that age? Whatever job he got, he used to do it to meet his expenditure – at least to pay the rent and telephone bill. Number of times I also paid his telephone bills. In between, he went to Toronto, Canada and worked to repair and maintain swimming pools. Still today I am not sure what kind of job that was. He thought of settling there. But, in one winter all on a sudden he came here with his four Canadian friends. He was still then an obsessed musician, leading a life like vagabond. When he was around thirty, one day a string of his guitar got torn. The electrical system of the instrument also got so damaged, that it became ineffective. He got quite upset, and became desperate to mend his favorite guitar, but could not get any help. Then he had a strange idea - to learn electrical engineering and mend his guitar. Well! He may not be pragmatic always, but he is passionate. So he took admission in the city college and did different course work, which would help him to get an admission in the Electrical Engineering program of the University. He developed so much interest in his subjects, that he started teaching mathematics to his juniors. He could earn more than what he used to get previously.
At the age of thirty four, he took admission in Electrical Engineering in the University. He had to take loan for paying his tuition fees. He did his Masters at the age of thirty nine and joined National Semi Conductor in the Bay Area. He was advised to do PhD, but he preferred to work. He left Santa Barbara unwillingly. He was in that company for five years. Now he moved to a new venture of one of his friends. He has to work a lot. He could not get much time for his music. Only in his leisure period, he sings on his own on a guitar. He also has another hobby – charting stars in the night sky. He has a very powerful telescope, and knows how to operate it. My elder son often visits me. Now I think his relation with his father is eased out. He meets his father, whenever he is in the town.”
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Ingy told very little of herself. She was married around 1948 and the newly wed couple went to Germany. There they remained for a year or two. Then her husband came to Princeton for doing PhD. She told me, “While we were at Princeton, I used to see Einstein having a stroll on the road. I would try to draw attention of my kids toward him by saying, look, who is walking?” After his PhD her husband took a faculty position. They came to Santa Barbara in the year 1963. In between they spent a year or two in England and had wonderful times together. However, slowly their relationship got estranged due to an affair of his husband and around 1970, they were divorced. After the divorce, her husband moved to a new house, and married again. Ingy retained their family home as a part of the agreement. She had to struggle in her initial years. Before her divorce, she did not think about joining any profession. She took training on nursing, and had been working as a professional nurse since then, till she has been diagnosed cancer in 1998. Once she told me, “I have no regret in my life. I am fortunate to live in a wonderful period. I saw the development and growth of my country. I experienced the changing lifestyle with the technological progress and modernization. I always marvelled at new inventions and discoveries, and enjoyed their fruits of success.”
On my day of return to India, she came to see me off at the Goleta bus stand, and told me, “You must be very eager to meet your family in India. I am very glad to see your excitement of meeting your son and wife. Your stay in my house was brief, and sadly for me, it went very fast. Before you came here, I was so weak. I had no taste, and was not confident about my movement. But surprisingly I gained my weight, and also regained my appetite. Thank you very much for your company. Do write to me.”
I was glad that she said all those kind words. I also thanked her, and suggested whether she could manage to continue with my recipe on her own. Sanjit-da, who was also present, told her, “I am planning to bring him every summer. You may see him next year.” Ingy smiled, and bid me good bye.
That was the last time I saw her. She lived only a few more months after I left, and died in the first week of May next year. I went to Santa Barbara next summer too. Her memorial service was being held on the day I reached there. Immediately after my arrival, Sanjit-da took me to her house. We paid our homage to the life of this remarkable lady.
12/11/2011
