Pardes (foreign country)                            July 13, 2006

One day when I got home from school, my mother said, Go change and freshen up.  Someone is coming to see you today. I had had a long day at school and had so much homework to do, but I also knew this day was coming.

I am Zainab, born in Karachi, Pakistan, 34 years ago. Two of my sisters got married at the age of seventeen. My father passed away when I was three years old. I didn't have any brother who we,our mother and my sisters and I, could depend on. Having a brother is a good thing in Pakistani culture because Pakistan is a male-dominant country. I knew from birth how hard my mother had been living. The only way we sisters could help relieve our mother's burden was to get married at early ages. I always wanted to get a good education and get a good job so my uncles wouldn't have to support our mother financially. I never liked them helping us. It was a constant struggle. But I didn't have an option back then.

I was 16 and finishing high school when his marriage proposal came for me. He was my distant relative; his father and my mother were second cousins. I had never met him before. He and his family moved to the United States when he was only 14 years old. They had never returned to Pakistan or a visit or anything. This was his first time visiting Pakistan since he moved away. One of his father's sisters was pretty ill, and she was about to die.  During his stay in Pakistan, he came to our home with his father to visit us. He saw me and asked his father to ask my mother for my hand for him.

His appearance in my life was like a fairy tale prince. Tall, good-looking, smart, educated, and the only son, lived in America, he had all those qualities. And here I was from a poor family, young, pretty and smart. Neither my mother nor anybody else asked me how I felt about him, even though if she had asked me I couldn't say no. I didn't have any choice. My mother and my other family members were very happy when his proposal came. They saw a good opportunity for me to come to the United States of America and have a better future. To them, to everyone in Pakistan, American was powerful, modern and rich country without poverty, everyone is rich and happy they can have and can do anything they would like to do. It was like a heaven on earth. I was the first one from my mom's or my dad's side of the family to get a proposal from overseas, and to get the opportunity to go to a different country, especially the United States of America.

I was not in any kind of position to ask about my future husband or about my marriage to anyone. I assumed my family must think he was right for me. I was only 16; I had no idea about marriage at all. I didn't even know much about him, especially what kind of person is he?

We were engaged for two years.  During those two years, my job was pretty much to take good care of myself for him and wait for him. It was almost like my life and my self belonged to him; I had to think about him before I could think about my own self. If I wanted to cut my hair, I couldn't, because I knew he liked my long hair. I remember one time my family and I went to a lake, and I really wanted to touch or walk in the water, but my uncle wouldn't let me.  He said, You don't know how to swim.  What if something happens to you?  What will we say to your future husband? You better not go in the water.

I never wanted to leave my country and my family. I don't have words to explain how hard it was for me to leave my country, family and friends. I still remember like yesterday the day I was leaving for the States. I kept looking at everyone and the house I grew up in, and I couldn't stop my tears. I had never cried that much in my life. I was very sad.  I wasn't ready to say good-bye to my old life and say hello to the new life that was waiting for me in the States. 

I came to the United States of America the same year I got married. As soon as I arrived, I noticed that America was a whole different country for me. At first I didn't find any kind of attraction besides the fact that my husband lived here. I couldn't speak English; I had never met or seen Americans before. Everything was difficult and different, from wearing American clothes to talking to Americans. But I had to adapt quickly to my new country. The first week I was in the States, my husband told his sister to take me shopping.  All my life, I had worn traditional Pakistani dresses, yards of fabric that covered my whole body, but my sister-in-law helped me to buy slacks and t-shirts.  I remember the first time I wore these clothes, I felt like I was naked and everyone was looking at me. And I was so afraid to even pick up the telephone: What if the other person speaks English?  What will I say? When I went out with my husband and met his American business partners or friends, I didn't know what to talk about. Doing all these new things was very stressful for me. I missed my family a lot. I remember every time I called them, as soon as I heard their voices, I cried like a baby. But I never showed my feelings to them. I was not happy at all, but I hid my unhappiness inside myself.

My husband provided me all material things. I had a big and beautiful house to live in, with all kinds of expensive furniture and other things, a nice car, money to spend, but he himself wasnt available for me. My fairy tale life ended very soon. His and my lifestyles and thinking, our viewpoints, were different.  He was so Americanized, and there I was so religious and traditional. I tried so hard to fit in his world. But I never felt that I fit in it. He tried, too, but he gave it up pretty soon. We both struggled. He was almost always busy at his work. Now when I look back I understand why he was busy, because he didn't want to be with me. I didn't know this back then. There I was, young and in a new country, trying to adapt to everything by myself. Until this day, I don't think he ever understood how hard it was for me. He didn't have any kind of understanding of who I was, the person I was. We were legally husband and wife, but inside our house we were living like roommates. So many times I wished I could run away somewhere or someone could help us. I knew something was wrong but didn't know what the problem was. I was doing exactly what my mother and my religion had taught me to do. I honestly thought that was how husbands and wives should be living. But now when I look back I know I was so wrong and miserable, looking for his attention desperately. He was a businessman, looking at his wife also like a business partner, modernly well dressed, speaking English well, knowing how to deal with other business people. I tried to become who I was not, just to make my husband happy. But it didn't work.

I had my first child when I was 20 years old and my second the following year. Time flies; we lived thirteen years together. I got busy with my daughters. After we had our daughters, he started getting farther and farther away from me. I was so unhappy and desperate for his attention. But even though I was unhappy the whole thirteen years of my marriage, I always had hope. He had many responsibilities for his parents and sisters; I thought that as soon as his responsibilities were taken care of, everything would be fine. We would live happily ever after. But I didn't know that I was living in false hopes. So many times I hoped that he would show up sometimes and surprise us, when my daughters and I would go would go to somebody's house or somewhere without him, but that never happened. I was so wrong; after everything I had gone through, my husband gave me a divorce with two young girls.

The way I look at him now, he was my ticket to come to the United States of America. I am glad I came. I became an American citizen through him, but I had to pay a pretty heavy price. I know how hard it is for so many women who come to the United States from all over the world and have dreams to follow, but once they get to this country it's like the proverb: Not everything that sparkles is gold.  I have one request to desi (Indian/Pakistani) parents: Please don't send your young naïve daughters to a pardes without knowing every single thing about the country and their future husbands. We desi girls are the one who have suffered and are suffering, no one else. 

Zainab Susi

True story