Indian Citizenship: Cancelled

Prior to graduating, I made a promise to myself to travel back to Goa, India. After many trips abroad, I have decided that the most meaningful and most useful education comes from leaving the comforts of our everyday surroundings and exploring new languages, foods, conversations, social norms, friendships and even transportiation. I have set aside some of my student loans to make this trip possible. I mean, I am putting it towards my education, right?! More than that, I want to make Goa a place where I am comfortable traveling to, a place where I can call home not only for myself, but for my future children.

First step, acquire a travel passport visa. Yes, everyone who plans to enter India needs a visa. There are many different types of visas so depending on the purpose of your visit and the duration of your stay, choose wisely. Also, make sure that your current US passport is valid for at least six months. Since I am traveling for leisure, I am applying for a “Travel Visa.”

I started to search the Internet for the Embassy and how to obtain a travel visa. The links that I came across all directed me to the Cox and Kings Global Services (CKGS). “CKGS is the only authorized Services Provider for the embassy of India and its Consulates across the USA for Visa, OCI Renunciation of Indian Citizenship services as follows with effect from May 21, 2014.”

As much as I tried to find a simple way around it, there was none to find and I had to begin the process. The site is a bit tricky to navigate and move around so please take notes of your “Temporary ID/ Web Reference Number” You are allowed to log in and out at different times which is important to keep your Web Reference Number handy in order to log in and continue where you left off. There are lots of documents to print so having access to a printer is necessary.

I begin to answer the questions with ease until I get to where I am asked if I hold an Indian passport. Well, yes I do. The next question asked if I still had my Indian Passport and well, yes I do. So now I am required to submit my Renunciation of Indian Citizenship form of proof. What!?! I began to stress out. Another application, another few weeks, another fee, and another hoop to jump through. I love surprises, but not this kind of surprise.

Confused like me, well here is the breakdown from their website. Renunciation is defined as “Surrender and Renunciation of Indian Citizenship applies only to applications of Indian Origin. Under The Indian Citizenship Act, 1955, Persons of Indian Origin is NOT allowed DUAL Citizenship. If a person has ever held an Indian Passport and has obtained the passport of another country, they will be required to surrender their Indian Passport immediately after gaining another Country’s nationality.”

Why I was able to obtain two other travel visas without going through this process, I am not sure so don’t ask. 🙂

Luckily, CKGS directed me to the appropriate link to begin the Renunciation process. There is a way to submit for your Renunciation of Indian Citizenship and a travel visa at the same time, but I didn’t want to take the chance. I decided to submit one at a time.

I began the Renunciation application online and to my surprise they ask for my Permanent Indian address. For real? Well, in my case my last address was my orphanage that no longer exist today. I copied the address that is in my Indian passport. The address is not complete so I had to google the zip code (known as the pin code) and typed in what I found and prayed that it would work.

I completed the application, printed out the documents, signed where I needed to, made copies of my passport and naturalization certificat scheduled my appointment (drop off app. in person), and reviewed the checklist over and over.

I had everything. I was ready. I traveled to San Francisco and showed up on time to my appointment. Everything went smoothly, until the CKGS employee asked me for my marriage license. Huh? I’m not married. But, my name changed from what is printed on my Indian passport to what is printed on my current proof of ID. When I was adopted, I never went through a formal name change process. My parents just added my father’s last name to my name given at birth.

A rush of anxiety traveled through my body quickly. I didn’t know what other way to explain it to the CKGS employee. Then I remembered! My adoptive father’s full name is on my Indian passport so that is how I got his last name on my current proof of ID. The CKGS employee highlighted it and again, I prayed that I didn’t get any emails stating that I was denied. He wasn’t sure it was going to be enough but it was the best we could do.

He accepted all my paperwork on his end, but it still needed to get approved. Then it was time to start the waiting game. I left the appointment and jumped on a bus back to Sacramento.

I checked my email on a regular basis and there were no red flags. About two weeks later I received an email stating that my certificate and Indian passport was in transit back to me! Thank you, Universe! Let me tell you, I was not excited about sending off my Indian passport in the mail. As an adoptee I value that passport soooooo much. It’s a very special piece of my story and the beginning of my life in the US.

I opened my envelops and there it was, a red printed “PASSPORT CANCELLED AS ACQUIRED U.S NATIONALITY” stamp. As of September 1, 2016, I was legally no longer an Indian Citizen. Not that I really was one, but now it’s official I guess.

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I sat with my passport for a few minutes. In all honesty, it didn’t really bother me too much that my Indian passport was cancelled. It does suck that adoptees cannot hold dual citizenship. The closest I can get is to apply for an Overseas Citizen of India. Nonetheless, I am glad that the process was approved without an issues and now I can move on to get my India Travel Visa. Stay tuned.

Through Her Body

Born, Never Asked.

Zoë Klien

CounterPulse.org

San Francisco, CA

August 11th-13th, 18th-20th

These last few years I have been manifesting new relationships with transracial adoptees. There is something that is quite strong between my fellow adoptees and myself. This feeling of validation and solidarity.

At Pact Camp this year, I was assigned to share a room with Zoë Klien. I got to know  Zoë throughout the week and learned that she is a performer traveling around the world. It was her first time at camp and my third. I was able to see how my first time experiences overlapped and aligned with hers. I wanted to learn more about her truth as a transracial adoptee.

The desire to know more and support a fellow adoptee took me to San Francisco.

Born, Never Asked. sheds light on the complexity of international adoption through scrobatics, dance, spoken word, and visual imagery. Born in Colombia, raised in NY, choreographer Zoë Klien embarks on this personal journey in order to question the importance of bloodline and how to achieve wholeness in the face of conflicting loyalties between lands, language, families, and cultures.”

With a heart full of gratitude and love, the lights dimmed. I took a deep breath and I teleported into the aircraft where she was being relocated from one country to another. From Colombia to New York, NY . The story of her birth.

Her limbs and toes stretched as if her mother was feeling her foot push through her belly. Her mother prepared for birth. Moments before the plane landed.

I saw her body suspended and stretched far in the air. She and the other performers told the story of detachment, attachment, loss, trust, all that is so common with other adoptees.

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A deep tone of red covers the stage allowing the audience to interpret their feelings, without knowing that their shared interpretations are very quite similar.

Her words resonated and caused vibration throughout my body once I heard her soft voice. If I remember correctly, she spoke, “World traveler at 30 days old,” and “who is saving who?”

With very few words verbalized, I understood her story. As shared during the Talk Back, Zoë noticed that there are not too many, if any performers sharing their story with only a few words spoken. That was the space she wanted to create and fill.

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The awareness of this space parallels Nancy Verrier book, “Primal Wound.” She confirmed my feelings and experiences around the severed bond and relationship between my mother and I after 40+ weeks in utero.

Once again, these experiences are aligned for me and I recognized the Universe was present with me. Or I with she.

As an artist, Zoë uses multiple media to share her life. Not only does she dance, choreograph, run the show, but she also writes, paints, photographs, and digs deep to her truth. Her soul was celebrated with paintings and photos of her journey back to Colombia.

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Zoë is an artist to follow. She is story teller to follow. The one thing that I can truly appreciate is that her show will change as she changes. She will reflect the stages of her relationships, growth, awareness, and mourning. The stages of adoption. I am honored to witness a visual performance that mimics my truth.

Attend, support, and follow the art work and story telling of Zoë Klien
CounterPulse.org

The Casual, Not So Casual Meet and Greet Convo

Meeting new people is always so interesting, uncomfortable and invasive or me. Of course most strangers don’t know that I am adopted, but confusion seems to arise when I answer their basic questions about myself and my family. Over the years, I began to notice that I was disclosing my adoption within the first few minutes of meeting someone, only to relieve their confusion about my answers and not for my own personal desire to want to share. There have been times where I chose to leave the conversation when they get that blank stare on their face just to avoid having to tell them the missing link in my story line. In those moments, I have to decide if my adoption is going to be part of my identity or a part of me that is really no ones fucking business.

A brief conversation I had with a kind woman at my weekly mediation group proves my point. Note: personal thoughts are told in parenthesis

Her: Hello, how are you? You are awfully quiet.

Me: Yes (well, we did just get done with a 40 minute meditation session)

Her: Is this your first time here?

Me: No, I began coming last fall, but had to stop due to my school schedule. I am now able to return because my Thursday evenings are now open.

Her: Great, what are you studying?

The conversation was lead to discussing my masters program and blah, blah, blah. Then it begins.

Her: Are you from Fiji?

Me: No, I am from India.

Her: Do  you speak Indian?

Me: Do you mean Hindi? (For reals? You look to be at least 80 years old and you still think Indians speak Indian?)

Her: Oh yes, do you speak Hindi?

Me: No, I do not.

Her: Do your parents speak Hindi? (Oh shit, here we go)

Me: No, they only speak English

Her: Its amazing how families come over and lose their language, their culture, their heritage and everything that comes with being Indian. (Oh gawd, you’re right. It’s amazing and it kind of sucks)

This is when I tense up and get a reality check about my losses. I quickly analyze the situation before my next move. I seem to go through the same questions before responding. Do I feel safe? Do I want to disclose my adoption to this stranger?  Who the fuck is she? Is she on a need to know basis? Is this a learning opportunity for her? Why do I feel like this? How do I get out of this? Should I just avoid her and nod my head in agreement? What do I do?

With a sunken feeling of sadness and shame, I chose to answer with some honesty.

Me: Well, that comes with adoption. I experienced all of those losses with being a trans-racial adoptee. (There it goes, I dropped the most personal bomb)

Her: Oohh, a trans-racial adoptee?

Me: Yes, I was adopted by a white family.

Her: Oh, interesting.

She begins to tell about a family friend’s child (8 years old) and his recent awareness that his skin is darker than his mothers due to his estranged father being black. I think this is something that is not very common in her social groups, but I respect her for trying to relate. I followed her story about the importance of having dialogue around racial identity during a child’s development and that its usually due to white privilege that white parents are not having these conversations with their children of color. I blatantly said that its doing a disservice to children and during their early years of development.

So, going back to my original point… this was the first time I met this woman and I felt obligated, pressured, and stuck to go deeper with a stranger than I ever intended to just to straighten out her assumptions. Yes, I didn’t have to, and yes, I could of politely excused myself from the conversation, which I have done before. My point is that this is not the first “casual” meet and greet conversation I have had that lead to me telling more than I want. Some other triggers that take the conversation to a deeper level of intimacy is when I get asked if my parents cook Indian food, if I have family/relatives in India, or if they are surprised that I don’t have an Indian accent. I can usually avoid saying too much and I have figured a way to dodge my adoption story, but it’s rare.

I guess this shit is what comes with being adopted. I’m just glad she didn’t mention how lucky I am because then I probably would have lost my shit which is not ideal after meditating. 🙂

Birthday Blues

This year for my 32nd birthday, I wanted to be in a place that was unfamiliar. The joy of traveling to somewhere new was pulling at me for some time, but due to my work and school schedule I could not get away. I waited patiently and developed a plan.

I decided to pack up my whole studio apartment and stuff it all into a storage unit so I could become a nomad and to celebrate and visit family and friends all summer long. I am not sure if it was the best and most responsible choice, but I needed to take a risk and live.

My best friend, Marissa also has a birthday in June and so we decided to head to San Juan, Puerto Rico and the Republica Dominicana to celebrate for two weeks.

MarNisha

On June 11th, we set out to explore Old San Juan. We walked, talked and drank the whole afternoon. As we walked around with no agenda in mind, I noticed a large white church in the middle of the bustling city streets. We walked up the stairs and I sat in the back on a brown bench. I proceeded to give thanks for the opportunity to travel as well as many others gifts.

As I do every year, I say a little prayer for my birth mother. I send out so much love to her that in the back of my mind, I imagine her feeling the same energy and love pulsing through her core at the same time. I never missed her so much until that day. She stayed on my mind and in my heart the whole day. Even though I will probably never see her again, I just hope that she feels me and my love for her.

birthday selfie

Throughout the day, many feelings of loss rolled through me. Being that I was in a dominate Spanish speaking country, I couldn’t help but think about language. It wasn’t until that moment, that I really understood the loss of language through adoption. That feeling took me back to the time that I got to meet my birth mother, but was unable to converse with her privately because she did not speak English and nor did I speak Konkani. To just have a few minutes alone her was all I have ever wanted.

Those feelings of language drifted into feelings about reunion. Although, I was able to meet a woman whom I believe is my mother, I will never be reunited and actually have a relationship with her like so many of my fellow adoptees in reunion. Although, I am happy for my friends, I am also very jealous since international adoption creates a larger barrier for me to know my birth family.

Once these thoughts subsided, I stepped outside and sat on the steps to watch everybody explore. I quickly realized that the architecture in Old San Juan was very similar to Panjim, Goa. Not only the color of the buildings, but the palm trees, tropical feeling, moist humid air, the city’s ordor, the small roads, and the view of the ocean took me back to my trip to my first home. It was a special feeling to be in a place that is so similar to where I came from. It almost felt like I was suppose to be there on my birthday; to have a piece of Goa with me for the day.

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After a few days in Puerto Rico, we jumped on a tiny plane and headed towards Republica Dominicana. Our last stop on the island was Punta Cana and as soon as we arrived by bus to our Airbnb apartment, I was reminded that Goa wasn’t too far away.

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It felt good to be reminded of my first home during this birthday adventure.

I missed India and the possible life that I had no choice in leaving behind