Having grown up with customary Indian thriftiness, Shobhan Bantwal is amused and heartened by America's shift to recycling
Illustration: Dominic Xavier
It is interesting, even amusing, to note how certain habits that earned pejorative remarks and disdain are now considered not only acceptable but praiseworthy.
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American culture has gradually made the transition from 'disposable and destroyable' to 'recyclable and recoverable.'
Suddenly, it is trendy to go green -- cloth bags for hauling groceries, reusable rags and sponges for household cleaning, taking shorter showers, using dimmer light bulbs, wearing more cotton and hemp, and even saving those plastic margarine containers for storing leftovers.
We desis are not new to this latest recycling philosophy. We always knew its value. Those of us who are first generation immigrants are very familiar with the raddiwalla and the batliwalla -- the men who came to our homes a few times a year to pick up old newspapers and bottles, for recycling.
Our outdated newspapers, magazines, clothes and glassware were worth money when I was growing up. Clothes were handed down from one child to another and eventually given to servants, who later turned them into cleaning rags.
Mom's worn saris became the soft stuffing for quilts and comforters for babies. To take it a step further, even cow dung was used for coating terracotta floors and making sun-dried patties for fuel.
When it comes to food, desis use every possible edible portion of a vegetable or fruit, then put the fibers, peels, seeds and stems to some other practical use. The coconut palm is a classic example of consuming the fruit, then using every drop, frond, root, and fiber for other things. Nothing is wasted.
I remember a time, not too long ago, when my non-Indian neighbours thought I was an unhygienic cheapskate for using a sponge to pick up spills and wipe the counters, when they used paper towels.
When I gave birth to my only child over three decades ago, my husband I couldn't afford disposable diapers, so I used cloth diapers and saved the disposable ones for travel. That practice was viewed with contempt as the ultimate in stinginess.
When our daughter became a typical Indian-American teenager and then a young adult, she wrinkled her nose at our frugal habit of hanging on to our cars, clothes, appliances and just about everything non-perishable until they died.
But that kind of thriftiness was instilled in us since birth, while it is an entirely novel concept for Western cultures, especially the United States, where there has been no dearth of material things until now.
The Western world has abruptly awakened to reality that conservation is a necessity.
Of course, some people's idea of green brings a smile to my face. Our now-married daughter recently informed us in all seriousness that she and her husband were aiming for an all-green household. Apparently they had switched to mostly organic foods and cleansers.
With equal seriousness I pointed out to her that they continued to use and discard paper towels instead of reusable products. Her child wore disposable diapers all the time.
In a place like Arizona, they got rid of all the rocks and native cacti in their backyard and put in a lush lawn that drinks up precious water by the hundreds of gallons each week. One of them drives an SUV while the other drives a full-size sedan.
Exactly how green is that lifestyle? Nonetheless, they are convinced that they are being responsible citizens. Well, at least they have become aware that there is a problem and even if their slight change in lifestyle is not all that noticeable, they are going in the right direction. And on a heartening note, the entire country is going in that general direction.
I for one am happy to see that even the elite now consider it fashionable to wear some of their designer gowns more than once and that they sometimes refuse to use an aerosol can in favor of a spray bottle.
And, of course, there is the organically grown arugula salad with imported feta cheese made from the milk of grass-fed Greek sheep, topped with wild Italian mushrooms and croutons to accompany the Pacific poached salmon.
Finally, frugality has progressed from vice to virtue.
The author is the author of four colorful novels on India and its culture.
