The American Indians

The American Indians

Today I read about the untimely death of Indian actor Tom Alter at age 67. He had died of skin cancer. He likely developed this skin cancer in part due to the abundant sun exposure in India. You see, he was a fair skinned Caucasian.

Mr. Alter was the grandson of a missionary who had come to British India in 1916 from Ohio in the United States. Mr. Alter's grandfather had a son who was born in the city of Sialkot which is in present day Pakistan. When the Indian sub- continent was partitioned in 1947, the elder Alter remained in what is now Pakistan, but his son (Tom's father) had become a missionary in the city of Mussorie in India.

The partition of the Indian sub-continent by the British split many families including those of my parents. I however never imagined that it also would affect an American family living in India.

Mr. Tom Alter was born to his missionary father in Mussorie in India in 1950. His grandfather remained a missionary in Pakistan, and the young Tom Alter grew up in the Indian state of Uttar Pardesh. He was fluent in Hindi and Urdu. When it was time to go to college, he was sent to Yale university in the United States.

He however did not like Yale, and left after a year and came back to India. After trying a few different things, he fell in love with an Indian movie starring the Indian super hero of those days, Rajesh Khanna and decided to become a movie actor.

I can imagine that it must have been difficult for a Caucasian man to make it into Indian movies in the 1970’s, but Tom Alter did. Some of his roles portrayed him as a British man speaking poor and broken Hindi. Interestingly he himself was very fluent in both Hindi and Urdu, and even well versed in Urdu poetry.

He did succeed and eventually worked in over 300 movies including a movie with his idol Rajesh Khanna. Also, incongruously for a man of American origins, he became a great fan of the game of cricket and even became a correspondent for a cricketing news organization. He was eventually given the fourth highest civilian national award of India, the Padma Shri and was much loved in India. He once said in an interview that he hates being called an ‘angrez’ (white man). He said he was Hindustani (Indian) and proud of it.

In this day and age, it is more common to see immigrants to the United States rather than the other way around. I myself am an immigrant. While growing up in Nigeria, two of my closest friends were American brothers. Their father had moved to West Africa in the 1960's, but it is generally rare to see an American who has made another country home. However, recently I met another.

I work as a doctor in a small town in North Carolina. On one recent day in the clinic, a man in his late sixties came in as a new patient. He had just moved to our small town to live close to one of his daughters who lives here.

As part of my history, I asked what he did for a living? He had been a teacher, he told me and he had just retired. Where did you teach I ask? ‘India’, he replies. I was taken aback. You mean the country of India? Yes indeed, he replied.

This made me very interested and I asked him for more details. He told me that as a young couple both him and his wife had been interested in missionary work. They left America in the 1980’s and first lived in North Africa for a few years. Their first child was born there. They then moved to India. They moved between different cities in India. Their second child was born in the Indian city of Patna.

I found this very interesting as my parents were originally from the Patna area of North Eastern India. He lived with his family in India for 28 years. His daughters grew up there. He came back to America to take care of his elderly father. The family was initially split as his wife tried to stay on in India with his children.

After four years, his wife also moved back. One daughter had gotten married and moved to my small town. My patient moved here after his father died. He found a job here and became my patient. Both him and his wife are some of the most humble and nicest people I have ever met.

When I decided to write this essay, I titled it ‘The American Indians’, even though this has nothing to do with Native Americans who are also called by that name. I think it is the people above who more accurately fit this title

Tom Alter

Sabo

Sabo

This is a memorial for my dear friend Sabo Saleh who died a few years ago. Sabo Saleh was my classmate in medical school and we also started out residency together. We had many memorable times with each other. Here is one incident that I remember distinctly.

Sabo was the son of a farmer from a small village in Bauchi State in Northern Nigeria. His family was of modest means and most people in his village became farmers. Sabo was different. He excelled in his elementary school and got a scholarship to secondary school. Over there, he excelled again and was eventually admitted to medical school at the Ahmadu Bello University in Zaria, Northern Nigeria. I was his classmate.

Sabo was muscular, stocky and a picture of strength. He was characteristically bold and feared no one. He never hesitated to speak his mind and could be quite blunt. This attitude would sometimes get him into trouble, but he was much liked by his classmates. We all respected his fearless attitude and we knew that he had a great heart underneath that gruff exterior.  

After graduation and an internship year, Sabo eventually started a residency in General Surgery. By that time, I had started a residency in Orthopedics. We would meet often in the hospital.

One particular day in early 1993, we were both working in Operation Theater two. I was with the Orthopedics team and Sabo was with the General Surgery team. The other resident in Surgery was our mutual friend Ahmed. Like Sabo, he was also from Bauchi state. On that day, for some reason, Sabo was mercilessly teasing and taunting him in his characteristic style. However, it was all in good fun and all of us were laughing.

I went in for a case, and then when I came out, Sabo was scrubbed in another Surgery case. In the physicians lounge I come across Ahmed. He was sneaking out Sabo’s clothes from the changing room. What are you doing I asked? He put a finger to his lips and said to me, “Quiet, I am getting back at Sabo, don’t say anything”. He explained that he was only going to hide the clothes for a little bit as a prank.

It appeared a harmless prank, and I thought nothing of it. I went back in for another case. When I got out, there was pandemonium in the physician’s lounge. Sabo had come out and noticed his missing clothes. He became upset as his home keys were in his pockets and he thought somebody might use them to break into his house. He got another resident to drive him home immediately while still in scrubs. The theater staff was busy trying to find the missing clothes and keys.

I ran back in and grabbed Ahmed who was just coming out of another case and told him. A look of fear came over Ahmed. He looks at me and says Sabo will kill us. Us, I say? Why us? I have nothing to do with this I protested! You knew about it he replied, that makes you an accomplice. Now take me to him so I can return his stuff to him. Ahmed later told me that he wanted me along as he thought Sabo will then go easier on us, since he was my good friend.

So, we changed and I drove Ahmed to Sabo’s apartment. Sabo was standing outside his locked door, not looking happy. We ran up to him, both pleading for forgiveness even though I was not sure what I was apologizing for. A surprising thing then happened. Sabo started laughing. I think he saw the fear on our faces and found it very funny. In the end, there were no hard feelings.

Some months later I was leaving for America and both Ahmed and Sabo were at my farewell reception. The very macho Sabo had tears in his eyes as he hugged me and bade me farewell. I never realized at that time that it would be the last time I ever saw him.

A few years ago, Sabo was diagnosed with cancer. This cancer took the life of my strong and tough friend leaving behind a wife and three small children. I will never forget the fun times with him and pray that his soul rests in perfect peace.

As students with Sabo in 1989

With Ahmed in 1993

In Operating theater two in 1992