Yes, but I don’t remember anything of the trip over to the States, or meeting anyone here, and I was four. And that was pretty dramatic. I wonder why it’s so different in different people?
When I was 18 months old, I fell out of my grandfather’s truck and hit my head (yeah, yeah, explains a lot.) I have pretty vivid memories of that day–not the fall itself, or the aftermath, but of sitting on the driver’s seat and playing with the steering wheel before the fall.
I can also remember, about the same time, getting into a fireant bed. My mom had me standing on the bathroom counter while she applied medicine to each bite.
Other than those, the only other one I can think of is going into my grandfather’s house for a cookie when I was roughly the same age. I can remember the layout of the kitchen.
It gets pretty fuzzy until about 5ish.
Just a guess but, were you living with a different family before you moved to the U.S.? If you were maybe there were so many changes at once that you blocked out your old life to help you adjust, because otherwise you’d have been overwhelmed by losing everything and everyone you knew.
Yes, I was, and that is probably the most right answer. Different family, different foods, different culture, different people. I guess together it all adds up to no memories of it.
I have a single memory from infant-hood: My mom was carrying me in the front basket of a bicycle, and I was looking at the log house across from my grandmother’s.
We moved when I was three, and I have have no memories of the move, nor of the previous place other than as mentioned above, yet I have tons of memories of being three…the Goliath car that was scrapped before I was 4, riding my bike and older kids not believing me that I was only three, etc. etc.
I realize this interests no one but me but…did you speak a different language as a child in India? Do you still speak that language? Did you always speak it without interruption, or did you learn English and drop your native tongue and relearn it later?
I’m convinced that language has to do a lot with memory storage. I wonder if you have some memories “locked” in your baby language which you can’t access now that you speak English as your primary language.
My family moved shortly after I turned 2. I don’t have any memories at all of my old house, but I do remember some things that my family said happened within the first few weeks of our moving.
In answer to your questions:
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
I spoke Hindi to start with and never lost it, but the addition of another language well past the initial stages of language acquisition didn’t help, I’m sure.
Well, there goes that hypothesis! 
Back to “I dunno, people are just different…”
I have two memories from before I was one year old. One has amazing detail in it, confirmed by family members. The other is like a “snapshot” of a specific memory, involving sight, taste and smell.
No, I think you are on the right track, TBH. In my case, I may have kept my language, but it was everything combined that did it to me, and language helped, too. Plus locale. If I went back to the little dirt village I grew up in (which I have fond dreams of doing) I might even remember some of it.
Day one, still tired from the move. (Steven Wright)
I moved from Scotland to Northern Ireland when I was something like 2 1/2, and I remember some things from Scotland. My little brother was born when I was just over 2, and I have no recollection of that. So, most definitely my memories begin around 2 1/2 years old.
And smell…I wonder if the smell would bring back memories; I bet your little dirt village doesn’t smell like here. I’ve got some amazing memories of Grandma’s house and her “Chop Suey” from when I was very young that pop up whenever I smell overcooked celery and soy sauce!
Now I totally want you to go back and see what comes up!
My first memory is of being baptized. I was in my mum’s arms, my dad was there, and I remember the cool water running down my head. That’s all.
I must have been 1 year old.
If I recall correctly from the early childhood development course I took in university, your long-term memory faculties don’t really mature until a child is 3-4 years old, so reliable memories of events prior to that are uncommon and tend to be very brief little snapshots – the posts so far bear this out. I have, for example, a couple “memories” of events that happened during my first couples years of life that I’m quite sure I’m not actually remembering per se, but simply reconstructing in my mind’s eye from anecdotes I’ve been told over the years.
My first definite, reliable memory is from Christmas Eve, two months before my fourthbirthday. My parents got me up after Santa had stopped by and I walked into the living room to see a rod hockey game set up and waiting for me under the tree. I’m told I was literally trembling I was so excited, so it was a really big deal. I had that game (and all the 14 NHL team players that came with it AND all the meticulously detailed trophies as well) well into my teens until it was too worn out to play anymore. Not sure I ever beat my dad either…
I have a couple of memories from about two years of age. One is of my daysitter, who’s apartment I vividly remember, as well as her newborn daughter and I remember her catching me when I almost slid into a stream (very traumatic at the time ^_^).
Funny thing is, during high school I was walking around the apartment of a new acquaintance, feeling an odd sensation of deja vu. I run into her mother in the hallway, and we stand staring at each other for two minutes as we recognize each other. My acquaintance was of course the infant from my memories…so I technically count her as my oldest friend.
My dad was a radar engineer. When I was sub-two years old, I remember him taking the family on a trip to a new prospective job site in the mountains of eastern Kentucky. I clearly remember looking down off the cliff from the car as we drove up to the site of the radar itself, and seeing twisted and mangled wrecks of cars at the bottom. That image has stuck with me to this day.
I remember my mom giving me a bath in the kitchen sink. I believe I was around a year old at the time. I remember seeing the cookie jar that looked like a basket of eggs (the coloring was horrible, though… Almost like a mixture between yellow and puke green) and I remember my mom talking to me. I understood (and still remember) what she said, but I don’t recall responding or even thinking I should respond so I am not sure I could talk at the time.
When I was three I watched another girl being killed (her throat was cut). That I will never forget.
That’s a hell of a thing to have for a first memory. I’m sincerely sorry.