"Sandwich" presents a story of a young man’s continual struggle for survival between two cultures, namely the East and West. Born into a working-class family, his parents sent him to a prestigious private school forfeiting their own comfort.
Time passed, and despite terrains of challenges he achieved his MBA degree, but the happy family botched to sense a real challenge ahead – finding a career in a society that is mostly overwhelmingly corrupted, devalued, and facilitating nepotism and favoritism to unprecedented levels.
After struggling for years, working as a marketing executive and marketing manager, and from a local reporter to a diplomatic correspondent and finally a travel reporter at various newspapers, the guy found himself a misfit man in a society that mostly devalued merit in comparison to prevailing social networking and status quo.
Like many young Pakistanis hailing from working-class families, he thought it was time to take a chance and migrate to the West in search of a career. Considerably well-informed but still ignorant of Western cultures and traditions, he landed at London Heathrow Airport on Jan. 11, 2005.
Evidently, working classes have long been under pressure globally and working-class children are too often betrayed by their governments, including the United Kingdom. Owen Jones' 2012 book "Chavs: The Demonization of the Working Class" best captured it.
"Sandwich" is a life saga of everyone who is desperate to move to the West. Why should people read it when many have gathered enough experience and passed through similar tests?
I reckon each episode mirrors reality. So, I am writing a guidebook for the newcomers. Whatever, it’s a story of a young Pakistani’s balance sheet of gains and losses, achievements and failures, hopes, grief and happiness.
I believe it is essential to take a trip down memory lane. Primarily because young readers can benefit from an array of reminiscences that could possibly assist and guide them to be prepared for the future and how to swiftly pass through hurdles, often results of unplanned and wrong decisions in life.
In brief, it is a story of hardships, sufferings, achievements, sorrows and homesickness, combating systematic racism, the search for identity, discovering self in cuckoo land and the continuous struggle of getting accepted in the wider English society facing challenges of systematic denials and purposely leftover.
My generation of South Asians has faced the same challenge; finding a dream job in a competitive environment, mostly polluted by corruption, nepotism and favoritism.
The 1980s and 1990s era saw a generation of Pakistanis either eager to join the armed forces or to become a doctor, engineers or work in the business industry. In contrast, I preferred the media industry initially for its fame but lately in the public interest.
After completing the MBA, for years, I searched for a dream job, before ending up working at the prime minister’s office. But soon, Gen. Pervez Musharraf's military coup shattered all dreams, and we were kicked out without our salaries.
Musharraf’s coup on Oct. 12, 1999, cost me a job but taught me a lesson: People ally with those who have power and money. I lost the privilege but didn’t give up. So, I became a journalist not by choice but by likelihood. Later, on Oct. 7, 2001, the United States invaded Afghanistan in an alleged vengeance for the al-Qaida-orchestrated Sept. 11 terrorist attacks in New York.
I remember, when the first cruise missile hit Kabul on the early evening of Oct. 7, 2001, we were drinking tea in Aabpara Food Street, adjacent to our Daily Pakistan’s Islamabad Office. That day changed the landscape of the world and my life.
I had the chance to meet and work as a fixer with a few of the world-leading war correspondents of Al-Jazeera and Abu Dhabi TV, like Hasan Rachidi and Amr Elmouniery who arrived in Islamabad to cover the Afghan war. They inspired me to become a diplomatic correspondent. I envisaged it would be a challenge but made a firm decision to go to England to seek a degree in journalism.
The year 2005 turned out to be the lucky one, finally, my dream became true, I landed at the U.K.'s biggest and busiest, Heathrow Airport on Jan. 11, 2005, at 7:30 p.m.
The next challenge ahead was to pass through immigration and passport swiftly. Ever since the New York and Madrid terrorist attacks, Muslims and Pakistani identities have become problematic in the West.
Despite my fears of being stopped and searched, I went through immigration and security without any hindrance. After receiving a friendly gesture from Great Britain where Muslim travelers were perceived as potential radicals and extremists, I hurried toward the existing thinking of Imran Bhatti, an MSC computer science student at a local university, friend and guide for the next few hours.
I still remembered those blissful moments; Bhatti’s extraordinary greetings made me feel at home. Bhatti instantly reminded me that today is the beginning of a new chapter in my life, and now I have one more chance to reverse things in life and could achieve what I had failed to accomplish in student life.
That sounds like a virtuous piece of advice for years to come. I learned Britain treats international students well. They are entitled to many discounted services including transport, visitors attractions and free medical facilities. Seems like reassuring stuff for any newcomer student in a faraway place.
Before you enter a conversation with your buddy who is also a chain smoker, you don’t have to delay in handing over cigarettes to them, especially if the receiver is a student. For most, Pakistanis sweets (Sohan halva) are equal to Turkish baklava is a luxury treat abroad and I had bought both for my mates and sister.
Heathrow has good transport links, so the next stride was to catch the London underground train to reach the central London bus station. I was excited to be in London to study but also worried about making a super-expensive city my home. Londoners seem like robots and like reserved creatures, unless you break the ice they don’t talk to newcomers.
Next, I heard a typical underground sentence, “mind your steps,” a reminder of entering the underground train is “a source of inspiration for filmmakers” and “luxury” for many visitors to the City of London.
Most commuters were reading a book while a few had umbrellas in their hands, signs of the reserved nature of Brits and the unpredictable British weather. I noticed some tube commuters were supposedly visitors and they got excited at each tube station after listening to announcements featuring traveler attractions like the London Eye, the House of Parliament and Big Ben.
The first time, I saw a public display of affection (PDA) on an underground train, an act considered ignominy in Pakistan, but latterly I found it was the same in England before the 1960s. Many English people admire PDA as a symbol of modernity but the majority don’t appreciate it. That was an opening cultural shock.
Earlier, I had a rudimentary idea of London, a little United Nations where a person of almost every country resides, a vibrant city of museums, historic buildings, universities, cultures, and diversity that attracts millions of tourists and thousands of international students each year.
As a journalist, I had a spiritual affiliation with London’s 16th-century Fleet Street birthplace of “England’s first daily newspaper, The Daily Currant.”
Fleet Street facilitated and produced many renowned journalists, editors and columnists like Polly Toynbee, George Monbiot, Tony Benn, John Pilger, and Robert Fisk. Sadly, what was once known as the “newspaper capital of the world” and “a spiritual home” is now part of history.
The journey from Heathrow Airport to the Central London Bus Station lasted around an hour, perhaps enough time to plan. The next destination was Bristol, a historic city in the South of England, my younger sister was excitedly waiting for me.
As, I boarded the National Express Coach, London’s freezing cold evening started vanishing because my mind sprinted to shuffle childhood memories, the best part is with siblings, later you never know where life takes you.
Although I couldn’t much get out of the journey because of a rainy night and dark. My inner voice whispered I am missing probably the best scenery bits, but I consoled it, I had to come back to London soon to study NCTJ approved level six diploma course in journalism.
I reached Bristol well before midnight. My first day in Britain, away from home, yet together with my sister. We dined and talked for the next whole hour mainly about my studies. I didn’t remember though when the jetlag overcame me, and I fall asleep.
On Jan. 12, 2005, I woke up to a different world, a new dawn of hopes and potential openings but also unknown fears of an unfamiliar place. As a Muslim student, how would English people treat me?
I heard a lot of stories about negative media portrayals of British Muslims, which contributed to their stereotypical images as “alien others,” “outsiders,” “backward” and” problematic.”
I knew such portrayals emerged resulting from the wars in the Middle East and the tragic event of 9/11, which changed the landscape of the world. I planned and thought about how to counter such a scenario if it happens. Sadly, many Muslims felt excluded from mainstream society. For me, perhaps, it was too early to think that far, but it seems a useful morning exercise for a healthy mind.
I sensed eventful days ahead, after having a typical Asian breakfast, and a sisterly reception, everything was well-planned, a road map to a new start in life as a mature student. What a newcomer to England possibly learns in weeks and months, fortunately, I collected in advance; a package featuring the needs of a newly arrived mature student.
An immediate to-do list of recommendations for a student includes obtaining a student card, registration at a local police station, opening a bank account, applying for a National Insurance Number (NI), a provisional driving license, and collecting three job refusal letters for documentation. Such a calculated strategy was an avowal of my sister as an ideal planner, best guide and generous host.
Currently, international students “generate close to 26 billion pounds ($33.06 billion) in net economic activity.” Correspondingly, the U.K. government reimburses students’ investment in many ways: they possess the right to work, can apply for bank loans, enjoy free health facilities, safety, right to buy property, council tax exemption, around 33% concession on trains, cut-price entry to tourist places and a set of freedoms. That’s pretty much of the same facilities as those held by an ordinary British citizen.
