Tod Rasmussen/The Reporter
Balraj Singh (left) and his wife, Satinder Kaur, are proud of their four children (from left) Manpreet, Randeep, Jaspreet and Taranbir. Balraj came to America in 1998 and his family followed in 2002, making Vacaville their new home.
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By Barbara Smith/Reporter Staff
It was a leap of faith - to the other side of the globe.
When Balraj Singh left the fertile farmlands of his native Punjab, India, nearly five years ago, he left behind a family with a kiss and promise that he would one day provide them a life in a land they could only imagine - America.
So to step on the shores of the free world and fail was inconceivable.
That was in 1998. After working seven days a week, often 16 hours a day at different jobs, Balraj was reunited Sept. 28, 2002, with his wife, Satinder Kaur, and four sons.
"I felt (it was) a new life for me, to see my sons and wife," Balraj said from his Vacaville home. "I have like, a new birth."
A reserved man, Balraj, 48, struggles to check the pride he feels when he looks at his four handsome, healthy sons: Taranbir, 18; Manpreet, 17; Randeep, 14 and the Jaspreet, 12.
"I am very happy," he said. "I have my family, and I have week- ends. When we have time, I spend time with my sons - especially. It's a wonderful life."
Since they arrived, the family has traveled to Lake Tahoe, Santa Cruz and Marine World. The boys are thrilled by America's huge buildings and stores, four- to six-lane freeways filled with cars and the cleanliness of their new country. They are eager to play soccer, basketball and baseball, said Jaspreet.
He is not 12, he said, but "twelve and a half." He likes basketball and one of his favorite places is Andrews Park.
"It's beautiful," he said.
The transition has been more difficult for Taranbir.
In 1998, he and his father shared a strong bond. But when his father left he was 13, on the bridge between childhood and manhood.
When asked about his father's departure, tears dotted his long, black eyelashes.
"I missed him," he whispered. "I love my father."
* * *
Such are the sacrifices that have been made by Sikh families who have been emigrating to America from Punjab for more than a century.
Most Punjabis are Sikhs, a monotheistic religion originating in India about 500 years ago.
U.S. Census figures do not indicate the number of Sikhs in the country today, but estimates run at 500,000. In Solano County, the Sikh community has nearly doubled in the past year to an estimated 700 families.
Balraj, a farmer and bus driver, lived in a village near Chandigarh but was dissillusioned by limited opportunities in his homeland.
One's occupation is essentially limited to farming in Punjab, which is known as the foodbasket of India.
"I saw a sign here, 'Farmers feed America.' Punjab feeds India," he said.
Balraj doesn't miss farming, but there are customs of his former homeland he hopes to instill in his children, with the hopes they will pass them on to the next generation.
* * *
None of Balraj's sons have ever cut their hair. Unshorn hair is considered holy in their faith.
Every Sunday, their hair is washed, braided and neatly wrapped in the patka or turban used for young men. They change it daily and wear colors that match their outfits.
Taranbir is the only son who has considered cutting his hair.
"Some kids stare, and ask 'are you Muslim?' " Taranbir explained.
Pondering the issue, he glanced furtively at his father.
Balraj sighed, acknowledging that Taranbir is waiting for his father's permission to cut his hair.
Balraj reluctantly gave up his turban and cut his hair when he arrived in America because he felt it would be easier for him to find a job, and as a matter of convenience. It takes at least 15 minutes to wrap a turban.
He has reasoned that he has coached his children on how to handle teasing or curiosity at school.
"A few guys, they tease them, but they wish to know what is here, under the turban," he points to the top of his head. "I told them that if somebody teased them in the schools, they talk to the teacher, not fight them."
But it's not that easy, according to outspoken Jaspreet, who described what his older brother endures.
"Every time kids touch his hair, he says 'don't touch my hair, it's my religion,' " he said. It's a situation that angers Jaspreet, and Tarbanbir admits it makes him feel bad.
"I cut my hair so I cannot tell them strictly not to," Balraj said. "They are in an independent country; they are in a free country. But, I like them Sikh. There are some difficulties outside, but life is difficult."
* * *
The Singh family's northeast Vacaville home is sparsely furnished. There's no SUV in the driveway, gourmet cuisine on the table, memberships to a spa, nor even a computer.
But a guest stepping through the front door will find order, grace and an abundance of love - the elements of family life that Sikhs strive to achieve.
The family seems to make do with Balraj's income as the owner/operator of a big-rig, and a secondary income earned by Satinder at a local restaurant.
A typical meal at the home consists of chicken curry, a pumpkin-vegetable dish and tortillas made fresh daily by Satinder.
The Singh boys don't ask for anything special, and have not yet developed a taste for McDonald's. When Balraj gives his sons money, they save it, he said.
Four pair of blue thong shoes are lined up evenly outside a patio door, because the family does not wear shoes inside the spotlessly clean home.
Outside, in the minuscule patio area, every inch of soil is blooming with giant sunflowers, marigolds, azaleas, tomatoes, onions, okra and jalapeno peppers, carefully attended by the family.
"I bought the seeds, and they planted them," Balraj said.
For the Singh family, home, hearth and a reminder of beauty of Punjab is enough.
* * *
Balraj has worked daily with all of his sons on the ins and outs of living in their new country, but particularly with Taranbir, because he's the oldest and he has struggled with the transition to America.
"When I came here, I did not feel difficulty because my father helped me all the time," Taranbir said.
He already has his driver's license, and drives the family car when they worship at the Guru Nanak Sikh Temple in rural Fairfield, or to buy groceries.
"I go to the bank and deposit the check. I pay the electricity bill, phone bills and car payment," Taranbir said.
By tradition, Taranbir is the man of the house when his father is working. It took a gentle persistence to initiate Taranbir into that role, Balraj said, such as handling the maintenance at the home when Balraj is at work.
"You have to, that's your job," he told Taranbir.
Balraj understands Taranbir's reticence. He was there at one time, himself.
"When I came here, I faced these difficulties. I could not go straight to the bank or to pay bills. I needed help," he said.
Taranbir has his own bank account, so he can learn to manage money. He will also work part time in a convenience store owned by a friend to immerse himself in English, Balraj said.
"The store has more opportunities to learn language," Balraj noted, remembering his own stint at a convenience store. "The customers come, you learn how to speak, how to deal with them, how to behave. I got everything from the store. I had no English. I got all English from the stores - from the customers," he said.
* * *
Each member of the Singh family has a dream.
Satinder's is to learn English from her husband and sons. Balraj hopes to one day expand his trucking business. But for now, there are other priorities.
"Now, I can spend time with my family," he said. "It's a small business, but I'm satisfied."
The Singh children are aware of the limitless possibilities life in America offers them.
Taranbir's eyes light up when he remembers a recent visit to the University of California, Davis, campus. He wants to be a businessman, he said.
Manpreet wants to be an engineer. Randeep wants to be a doctor. Jaspreet, a scientist.
"I like inventions and I like research," Jaspreet said.
Balraj smiles, somewhat suprised at his son's lofty dreams.
He said he will encourage them to be anything they want to be in a country where anything is possible.
But most of all, he wants his sons to be Sikhs.
"I encourage them to be good men for a better future," he said.
Barbara Smith can be reached at dixon@thereporter.com.