yAmway Scamway

A rapidly multiplying breed of substandard Indians, better known by its descriptive appellation, "The Amway Leech", seems to be pervading in its presence with cancerous alacrity. Its a case of blood-suckers hunting for the famed suckers who are born at the turn of every minute, the hunting grounds spreading out from the local grocery shop to the metro subway to the swanky mall where you would think such critters would be screened out on sight. In fact, a recent national survey on the top ten activities Indians engage in in the US found that acting as a walking, talking, absolutely annoying outlet for Amway was a close second to failing miserably at imitating an American accent, without noticing that it only made them look more bumpkinish and Xavieritish (writing silly satires on them was not rated, though the Accenters form a subject worth getting rated over. But that's for another time).

Indeed, the irony is that superficially, the Amway leech appears to personify the very qualities you want to see in a fellow Indian; a disarmingly warm smile which seems to chime that your well-being and happiness is his raison d'etre, a friendly and gregarious demeanor your childhood buddy would have a hard time beating and a general level of enthusiasm about your career and personal problems only your parents could match. A brilliant veneer, for it has the capability of hiding the underlying hideously cheap sliminess that is either innate or cultivated through the vaunted Amway seminars which churn out the charlatans by the truckload. A facade? You bet, for the representative of the dark side is your friend only until he's either able to sell his soul to you for a few hundred bucks and in turn, enslave your soul in a pyramid scheme he tries with his heart and ...well, soul, to convince you isn't one or till he realizes that he would have a better chance selling health benefits at the neighbourhood morgue.

All right, so now that you're privvy to a charitable introduction to the species, let's take them apart systematically...figuratively, for now, though Goodness knows your imagination has run wild more than once with pleasureable thoughts of rearranging the yAmways anatomically with excruciating deliberation and slow hands. In case, by the sheer grace of the Almighty Allah, you've never been inflicted upon with the presence of an Amway Agent - and I sincerely believe this is an oversight on His part that will soon be rectified to your utter dismay - recall the dhoti/lungi-clad bhaiyya who roamed the streets in India with a basket of fruits or vegetables on his head, yelling at the top of his voice in the scorching heat in his efforts to sell his wares. An Amwaywala is something like that bhaiyya, always on the lookout to pawn off something, though there's one important difference; the Amwaywala makes a complete pest of himself in his efforts. It's not just irritation that you will experience once you realize that he's befriended you for the sole reason of foisting off some cheap brand of soap on you. You will have the simultaneous urges to wring his neck, let loose a barrage of obscenities you'd never thought you were capable of imagining right in his face and call him up at the oddest hours in the night to let him know you think he's a sick scoundrel who would make the world a better place by blissfully walking off a cliff. It's a scientific fact that without such catharsis, an encounter with an Amwayman can burn off up to a pint of your blood and cause rapid smoke exhalation through the ears.

A standard version of the Amway leech usually hangs out in any and all places frequented by unsuspecting desis, often resembling the vultures in black robes passing off as lawyers outside the Bombay Highcourt (Come to think of it, there are strong parallels which allow a global translation of the plethora of lawyer jokes to Amway territory without reducing the humour or truth in them. To wit, what do you call a hundred dead AmwayThings on the ocean floor? A good start, of course.) See a smiling Indian on a direct approach vector and you can safely presume you're about to be Amwayed - a generic term for the execution of a collection of techniques designed and perfected by Amway's marketing genius specifically to screw you - especially you. In fact, I'd been told by a reverent Amway Ham I had once bumped into on the Metra that an expert in these techniques is referred to as a "Diamond", a sobriquet not to be taken lightly, though I can't help but imagine a foolish-looking version of Charles Sobhraj in a silly, flopping hat. But back to that approaching vector. He will start Amwaying you with an easy, "Heh heh heh", a casual introduction, inquiry about your health, history and family tree and needless observations on the general pattern of weather over the past few days. Sometimes, he may pretend he's seen you somewhere before, probably in one of the film magazines, of course. The details vary but the main objective of the song and dance is to ensnare you into becoming an acquaintance.

The broad picture to be painted is that Mr. Smiles is a trustworthy, do-good Samaritan who believes strongly in the social structure of civilization and would like to invite you to his house soon for a nice, home-made dinner, "because it's hard to make good friends nowadays no!". Even experienced Amway sufferees can be caught with their guards down when faced with such ingenuousness so you couldn't be blamed if you gave him an opening by asking him why he existed, in a polite fashion. I, for one, fell repeatedly for the initial pitch until very recently, when the wisdom that the only collective use of the Amway Hawkers is as a z-grade class of citizens to be made fun of and snubbed in every possible way finally dawned upon me. The fountain of mirth the topic of Amwidiots has proved to be in party conversations across the counry makes a secret corner of my heart root for their deliverance even as the rest curses them with complete abandon.

Regardless of whether you do or do not solicit any useless information on his wasted existence, Mr. Amway will soon whip out a business card carefully embossed and monogrammed to proclaim "A Thriving, Rapidly Expanding International Marketing Business". My friend once got a card which claimed, "Advanced Internet Business Commerce: Solutions to 21st Century Problems"; jolly good pomposity, ja?. Every bogus version of the pretentious title and the associated explanation belies an image that Good Samaritan is involved in something big and secret and momentous...and something with a bucketful of money in a pot of gold you can have for the asking if only you show "a little bit of initiative and daring most Indians lack", before others get the wind and into the act. He will go into lengthy details about the importance of Indians "networking" together, being a "force" in the business community, "reaching the goals of life" in the quickest possible way, carefully avoiding any impression that he's trying to rope you into anything. You, being the nice guy that you are, can only concur with a, "yes, yes, very true", if only to avoid extending the meaningless prattle on his part. You may half-believe his tales of personal wealth and impending visit to the bikini- infested beaches of the Bahamas but a wise sixth sense inside knows he's just a clueless bum who doesn't realize he's losing friends and making enemies in pursuit of some measly extra income.

A few days pass by after this encounter, his insignificant self almost forgotten, when you get a phone call right when Jordan is preparing for the buzzer-beating game-winner against the sidey Knicks. Shamway has missed you for the past week! He wants to know how your work and mother-in-law been treating you, cracks a weak joke about the Dow Jones and the stock market and makes a mundane observation that the Chicago temperatures have gone sub-zero (like, duh!!). Just as you're rolling your eyes in contempt you wish the idiot could see, Ham throws the bait, telling you that you appear to be one of the few "energetic" Indians who believe in taking their lives in their own hands and asks if you're "open-minded enough" to consider business opportunities. This is one of the standard tricks in the scam; challenge the ego while inflating it with peppered praise, question the manliness through subtle innuendoes - as if selling washing powder is the ultimate macho experience - and beat up on a non-business orientation by reference to "slave mentality". To hammer into your head that you're not making enough money and that your life sucks in a regular job is what he was born to do. So what if he just destroyed the better part of an hour in a lovely evening and provided food for the thought that perhaps it is possible to die of listening to a boring monologue. You at least got educated on the myriad ways Amway could fill up your coffers - if only you could dupe enough of your friends and people you don't know using the simple-to-learn, 1-day course on "How To Make Friends And Skewer People". And what luck! The Diamond from the North Carolina Chapter will be flying in next Thursday for a seminar at the nearby Marriott to personally teach you the infinite greatness of Amway. If you can't make it then, not to worry; His Diamondness will be visiting the following week, too. And the next. He has to, for he's the Head Leech. Got to find blood. And every time, Boring Sham on the other end of the phone would get to call you and remind you of the golden pot.

What happens in response to all the bullshit depends on whether you're a Darth Vader fan or find Yoda cute and cuddly. If you are extremely stupid, evil, the kind who would steal change from a beggar's plate, contemplating a career as a telemarketer for the local newspaper, a BJP langot or someone who simply enjoys harassing people by playing the pain in the backside to perfection, congratulations; you've just found a natural fit in Satan and the obnoxious Amway. Just the right place for you, dumbass. Beware, though, the Yoda camp is fighting back. Don't cry mama if you find sane people throwing stones at you or spit flying in your face everytime you go, "Heh heh heh" on seeing a fellow Indian at JCPenny. Make no mistake, the humiliation *will* happen and when it does, let us know if the Amway account appears worth the insults suffered. If you're sufficiently repentent, we'll even take you to Amway Anonymous. On the other hand, if you're one of us good guys, it will come naturally to you to call the leech a crass, mannerless blight who stinks to high heavens due to regular baths with Amway brand detergent. If he wisely disconnects the phone, you will call him up again to remind him in no uncertain terms that the second biggest mistake his parents made was not naming him, "Erratum". Remember the episode in which Babu Bhatt scolds Seinfeld with red-eyed anger, "You shut up. You bad man. You very very bad man", index finger waving in Seinfeld's face? That's how you would scold Sham, pure Indian accent and all. There are other ways of dealing with him,of course, ranging from toying with him to leading him on for days, only to break the news none-too-gently that he'd been had, a trick played by one of my more devious and resourceful friends. The objective, in every way, is to make Ham realize his true worth, i.e. make him feel small. The hope, beyond the simple pleasure of having gotten back at the rat, is that with sufficiently many insults, HeeHaw would stop short of heh-heh-ing the next time, even if he's not reformed enough to see his misguided ways.

While it appears on the surface that since the Amway activity is pretty harmless even if a little unsavoury and underhanded, it doesn't deserve the bile it's getting, consider this. Your close friend with whom you shared more than a few lazy afternoons at the college cafeteria calls you after six lost years and bypassing your unfettered joy, uses the Amway Opportunity as the opening move. Calls repeatedly, despite your subtle as well as not-so-covert attempts to convey disinterest, with nothing else on his mind but getting you into the "network". No fond rememberances, no nostalgia, just the pot of gold. Till you start screening and avoiding his phones. Or consider that of the past five random encounters with friendly Indians, five turned out to be cases where you were dropped like a hot potato once your aversion to Amway or Amway-clones was revealed, leaving you feeling more than a litle used. Are you about to trust that sixth Indian who really does want to socialize with a fellow countryman? One of my acquaintances in New Jersey has been burnt so often his preliminary conversation now includes getting it cleared up front that neither Affable Indian nor anyone he's friends with has been contaminated by Amway. Not the way you or he wants to behave with other Indians but he no longer likes to feel the impotent rage. Can you blame him? Instead of building festive groups dedicated to poking fun at Rajneekanth-Govinda-Sathhyaraj movies and exchanging Devilal-Zail Singh jokes, we waste the chances at camaraderie on recruiting Amway stooges?? What next? Madhuri Dixit as Commander-In-Chief and Bal Thackeray for world peace?

- FFT