Having grown up in a relatively conservative family in India, I can understand the friction that can occur often between “the younger generation” and “traditional family”… and I especially sympathize with nice people like some of the readers here – or their partners – who suffer from the drudgery that often characterizes communications between these two groups.

However, for the most part I think the blame for the difficult relations between Indian parents and their adult children lies squarely on the “younger generation” -of which I am a part. I think that most issues root from a tendency amongst Indian men and women (but I’m speaking to the guys mainly, since I am one) to refuse to engage their parents in a responsible and adult manner.

I’ve been reading over Gori’s shoulder as she delves back into the intercultural blogosphere, and some of the posts out there – such as The ties that bind by Elizabeth or the responding comment by Jessica, author of the blog Coffee and Tea, and, frankly, I cannot fathom how Elizabeth or Jessica’s partners can, with a clear conscience, claim that an arranged marriage situation is somehow out of their control.

A few caveats

Before I get into this topic too deeply, I first want to state some of my beliefs that relate to this matter:

1. I think family should be important to every person – and this includes not only your own birth family, but also your partner (married or not), any kids you might have, and your in-law family.
2. I don’t have anything against arranged marriages, per say… I’ve seen a lot of them, and I’ve seen many work, and I’ve seen many not work… I think in the cultural context of India, they often make sense. Many arranged marriages today are not that different from what you see happening on match.com and the like. If I hadn’t met Gori – or another woman that I wished to marry – on my own, I would have explored an arranged marriage eventually.
3. I don’t think that there’s anything particularly “Indian” about allowing yourself to be put into an arranged marriage while you are committed to someone else – that is, being Indian doesn’t absolve you of your responsibilities towards the love of your life.
4. I don’t think there’s anything particularly “Western” about what I’m about to say. I would’ve said the same when I was 13 – having never stepped outside India, and having been exposed to only a very small amount of western tv/movies.

Responsibility

This is something my father told when I was very young: “Before Sachin (my childhood idol) goes in to bat, dozens of commentators, coaches, players give him advice on how he should bat… but once he’s in the middle (of the pitch), it’s all up to him. It’s between him and everything that comes at him – it’s up to him to make his decisions, act accordingly, and live with the consequences – good or bad.”

It’s a very simple idea – no matter who gives you what advice, ultimately, it’s your life and you have to make your own decisions – and live by them. It’s about taking responsibility for your life.

Managing Expectations

I firmly believe that the root of most domestic arguments is a mismatch of expectations amongst people… for example, I might expect GG to come home and cook, she might expect me to do the same – and if we don’t communicate our expectations, we’d be end up home hungry – and grumpy.  In intercultural relationships, this is issue becomes more critical, since, because of the varied backgrounds of the people involved, the cultural expectations can become quite disparate. Thus, one of the key things to be done is to ensure that expectations of all parties are communicated and managed.

Long before GG & I talked about getting married, my mother & I spoke about what she expected in a daughter-in-Iaw, and I was clear about which of her expectations were unlikely to be met (a nice Bengali girl that Maa picked out for me, for example… not so likely). This “manging of expectations” shouldn’t be acrimonious or anything – for me, it was just a simple chat over tea and biscuits about growing up, and thinking about the future. But when I later met and started to seriously date GG, Maa wasn’t nearly as surprised as she might have been without this chat – it was already on her radar that things in this arena might not shake out the way she had intially expected them.

Finally, a few tips:

1. If you interact with your parents like you’re 12, that’s how they’ll treat you. Act like an adult, manage expectations, and communicate clearly & truthfully.
2. I am sorry, but nobody can force you to marry anyone. Unless your parents are holding an Uzi to your head, you don’t need to marry anyone. Emotional blackmail is rubbish – If your mother threatens to commit suicide, let her say that – she’s bluffing. Think forward 10-15 years… when your five-year-old throws a tantrum about the latest shiny toy, buying him the toy is the last thing you want to do – you’re rewarding bad behavior. Standing up to your parents when they behave poorly is just practice for that future five-year-old.
3. In all seriousness, if you truly believe that your mother/father will kill themselves because you decided to marry someone you loved… either you or your parents belong in a mental ward. Life isn’t a 70′s Hindi film where the heroine’s father is in cahoots with the mafia, the government and the police just to keep you two apart.
4. Ask yourself why you are “hiding” your relationship, if you’ve avoided telling your family about your significant other for a long (year +) time. If you are committed to this person, this is probably the dumbest thing to do – because it hurts everyone in the end.
5. If going to India will bring about events “out of your control” – i.e. your parents will try to arrange a marriage for you then and there – then don’t go. Make it clear to all involved parties why you are not going.
6. If your parents sign you up to an arranged marriage website (when you’ve told them you’re not interested), remember that ninjas won’t jump out of the bushes to kill you if you ignore the site altogether and refuse to engage in this sort of non-sense.
7. This is the most important: remember that in this fiery triangle of you, your partner, and your family, you know all the parties the best, and you are the main reason this situation exists. So, suck it up and take responsibility. It’s your job to manage expectations on both sides. You should never allow the situation to escalate to death or suicide threats and prospective brides back in India if you’re already involved with someone else.

It’s too easy to blame other people for your misery. Instead you should take action so that you can minimize the misery for all parties if you’re pro-active in managing expectations, intercultural relationships (really, all relationships) are much easier to mange.

Pale_Desi contributes her story of the first proper Hindu ceremony she saw.

Recently, friends of mine who are a married Indian couple invited me to a Vastu Puja in their new home. Vastu Puja is the ceremony they chose to “bless” their new home. This was my first time at any Hindu ceremony so I didn’t know what I would understand or what I should do. I didn’t even know if I would get bored with everything being Sanskrit or Hindi. I dressed up in my finest (ok…only) Salwar Kameez hoping to blend into the crowd. On my way to their house I drove with Indian friend and another Indian couple. They mentioned that the priest/pundit for the ceremony was American. I wasn’t sure what to think but I definitely was intrigued.

When we arrived sure enough there was the American Caucasian priest sitting in the prayer room with all of the necessary elements for the puja. He was surrounded by items which included Ghee, rice, flower petals, sweets, metal containers for fire, and various other things unknown to me. As the puja started I had no idea what to expect… I didn’t know what was traditional and what was not. This priest thoroughly explained everything that was going on and why it was being done in English before he went through the different prayers in Hindi/Sanskrit. I’m not sure if the pundit usually takes the time to explain everything in such detail or if they usually just go with the flow of the ceremony fully expecting that everyone knows whats going on. Maybe he was explaining it for the sake of me and 5 other “goras” in the room amongst 20 Indians… It was interesting to hear the significance of each item in the puja and why prayers were being said to which gods/goddesses. At one point when he was starting the fire he put something on the fire that looked like a brown brick like thing…I whispered to one of my Indian friends to ask what it was. Immediately the priest turned around to me and handed me a block of the unknown stuff. He asked me if I had any idea what it was with a big grin on his face. Of course I had no idea. Then everyone smiled (and giggled) and revealed to me that was cow dung that I was holding. Hehehe I felt a bit silly but its better to be silly now than in front of my boyfriends parents ( in the future). The “audience” involvement did not stop there. Everyone was asked to through rice repeatedly into the fire when a certain mantra was repeated to help bless the home.

The ceremony ended with lots of NOISE outside! The man of the house cracked a coconut on the ground outside of the house. This is done so that if anything bad should happen to the house it should happen to the coconut instead (I think). Then the couple entered the house with the priest , a conch player and a gong player (both unsuspecting gora volunteers). Then everyone paraded around the house following the couple in and out of each room. After that we all had a nice Indian lunch… apparently made without any onions or garlic ordered from the temple. I didn’t quite get the reasoning on this… something to do with onions and garlic being inauspicious.

This was quite an experience for me. I was glad that my first Hindu ceremony/puja was done with lots of explanation throughout (without me having to ask). It was a great learning experience. After I left I wondered if every Hindu priest goes through so much explanation in each ceremony? I think having a priest (Caucasian or not) that is willing to explain everything in detail like that for an Indian/American wedding ceremony or any Hindu ceremony would be great.

I would love to hear YOUR experiences with Hindu ceremonies. Please Share.

NeoKalypso, my wonderful guest contributer, tells of her experiences at a friend’s wedding.

After a wonderful summer full of jungle hikes, tasty SE Asia food, and plenty of other adventures with R, I was blessed to top it all off in the most perfect way with my friend CT’s wedding. Yep, that’s right, our very own CaliforniaTransplant and I are friends in real life. After sharing so many similar perspectives on intercultural relationships we decided we had to meet. Our friendship blossomed and I volunteered to help her in any way I could on the day of her Gujurati Indian wedding ceremony. She took me up on it, sent me about a two page “script” and I was ready to help!

From there…magic unfolded. The gods graced us with their presence…

Treading in the Temple

As I am forever paranoid about being late, I was the first one to arrive to the temple last Sunday. When no one was there, a small Indian man who took care of the temple told me to take a look in the main temple area. He told me to look at all the small details of the gods’ faces: Shiva, Krishna, Hanuman, and Ganesh all looked at me in serene, dignified ways. As I roamed around the temple I began to feel like I was back in India again…and it’s the same old stuff…time slips away, you feel as if something bigger than yourself is about to occur, and, a forever paradox of Indian, the calm came too. I knew it was going to be a special day.

When the guys came to set up chairs, I did so as well in my gagra. R bought me the gagra from Malaysia and I had it form fitted there, too. It was pink, blue and sparkly all over. This time I knew just how many bangles to wear, what to do with the scarf, how to do my hair, what shoes to wear, and how to hold myself. I felt like a regal princess (which is not a common feeling for me ) and the pattern, design, and feel of the gagra also made me feel apart of something old and special. This feeling was heightened when guests started trickling in and the Aunties commented on my appearance. They seemed very pleased and I commented back on their loveliness. I’ve never been big on what I wear, but wearing traditional Indian clothes really makes me feel like I’m a part of something bigger and better. It also makes me feel very connected to the other woman wearing their saris and gagras. I even started to critique other people (mostly the non-Indians) on how they were wearing their saris and if it was the proper way or not. Regardless of it was “right” or not, I loved that people were trying to be an even more intimate part of the Indian community, the ceremony, and the tremendous union CT and her husband M now share.

After setting up the chairs, I followed CT’s instructions on setting up the memorial, gift, and food tables. This is when I met The Uncles. M’s Uncles were amazing…they told me they set up these Indian ceremony’s four times a year and were running all around making sure everything would be very nice for CT and M. They took so much pride in doing this. We all kind of worked together, joked about who was going to owe who rupees for the set up, and really enjoyed our work for the ceremony. I accused L Uncle of eating all the pakoras–which earned some laughs. Helping out, running around, and commiserating with the Uncles never felt like a chore. The ceremony set up wasn’t about the “things” or making everything look exactly perfect. It wasn’t about stressing out, nerves, or being overly emotional. Though everyone was running around and busy, it felt very even, cool, and…fun! Later, it would dawn on me that the Uncles and I were just fulfilling the natural duty we owe one another as family and friends…a notion I have found most pure and effortlessly managed in Indian culture.

As CT floated around talking to people she was at ease, calm, beautiful, and full of grace. And that was even before the ceremony began.

CT introduced me to one of her older Gujurati Uncles who married an American woman in 1968. As he held my hands, I got a few tears in my eyes. CT told me his American bride even wore a sari. I felt bound to him in some way because, as many of you know, R and I have been navigating through our relationship very much conscious of his conservative, traditional Indian family. Not one of his 200 family members has married outside of his specific Telugu Indian culture—ok wait, one: to a Gujarat. Anyway, it was incredibly inspiring to meet someone of the same culture (in the larger Indian sense) who tread this path decades before us. Beyond this wonderful Uncle, there were several Indian/American unions at CT and M’s wedding. Of course I chatted it up with a few…and they all made it feel…so normal. It was relieving, inspiring, and just filled me with so much hope. I joked with R that we have to catch his Telugus up to M’s Gujarats!

Tracing Ancient Steps

The ceremony was exquisite. There were rose petals, walks around the fire, the string that symbolically bound CT and M together, advice given by married ladies, and of course, the handing off of CT to M. CT told me she felt so alive and in the present as the Gor Maharaj addressed her and M personally and candidly throughout the ceremony. The Uncles were very concerned about the non-Indians feeling comfortable and prompted me when I needed to explain something to them. Though the guests got up as they pleased, snacked on Indian food, and chatted throughout, the ceremony never felt chaotic or irreverent. Frankly, it felt just the opposite. The day was about easing into a ceremony Indians have perpetuated for thousands of years, absorbing the powerful rituals, being bound to a community, and understanding our duties as husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers. And it was about…communing with the gods.

Learning the Path

When R and I were traveling this summer, around week four, and while laying in a dirty hostel bed, it dawned on us how lucky and blessed we had been to be able to share so much time together laughing, bonding, and knowing each other so much more deeply. It was during this realization, that for the first time, something clicked, and I knew an aspect of Hinduism intuitively. I said out loud, “We must please the gods now.” R looked at me curiously and smiled in one of his mysterious ways I don’t quite understand yet. He said, “Yes when good things happen to you, you must not boast or be prideful…you could alert the gods and upset them with your pride.” And I said, “We now have to be thankful, humble ourselves, and give back…” I then totally got it. I really knew what karma meant inside of me and it felt incredible. I decided our next trip should be to volunteer.

So if I can offer one, small piece of advice to CT and M it is this: because you had the most beautiful, deeply moving ceremony you must continue to please the gods. You must do good, be humble and thankful for this incredible blessing because it was a gift.

The good feeling of CT and M’s wedding day is still lingering inside of me. It was one of the best ceremonies that I have ever been able to play a small part in and witness. One of the most touching parts for me was when M’s dad came up to me after the ceremony, held my hands, looked at me in a calm, serious Indian way I have come to know, and said, “You are more than a sister to CT and to our family. You did such a good job helping us, thank you so much. Thank you so, so much.” More than feeling appreciated for my efforts, I felt connected and that I played my part in a drama much larger than my own, individual life. His expressed gratitude was simply the byproduct of doing what I was supposed to be doing, of the role I was supposed to play.

The whole day reminded me that, yes…we are here to be serious about living, to fulfill a purpose, a duty, and through our own human symbols, tap in to a love that is something much bigger, however intangible, than ourselves. As my American individualist notions are starting to shift inside me, I am learning, and more importantly, feeling, what it is like to surrender your needs for the bigger community…the bigger myths. And it feels wonderful. The food, clothing, music, rituals, symbols…and people…of the Indian tradition directly connect me to this notion. What a great tradition to be a part of. It is one I am honored to begin to really know and feel working in my life.

(I feel so guilty for neglecting the blog after getting a wonderful submission like this. Check back late tonight/early tomorrow morning for a post of my own. – Gori Girl)

As most of the regular readers know, I’m relatively new to my intercultural relationship with my South Indian guy, R. Though we’ve known each other for longer, in August we will be celebrating an official year together.

Recently I had a very close family member pass away. It was an intense, emotional time and R was there for me every step of the way. He was with me through intimate family gatherings, saw where I grew up, and witnessed my grief over one of the greatest influences of my life. During all of this, my mind was often elsewhere, I was moody, and I was just all around uncharacteristically, but rightfully, sad. No one has even been a supportive part of my life like this before—usually I just buck up and find myself dealing with hard stuff alone. But R was there throughout everything: kind, listening, and not to mention absolutely loved by my family. He was my rock the whole time.

Now that the hardest parts of that time are past, I realize I feel closer to R than ever. Previously I thought R’s and my love had capped off—that it couldn’t get any better. But after making it through such an ordeal I feel even more connected to R in a deeper, uncharted way for me. I don’t really use religious lingo that much, but I can say that having him in my life has been a true blessing and gift.

When I think about these crucial times in life, when pain is pain, hurt is hurt, and sadness is sadness, I realize love truly knows no boundaries and its what binds you. R’s parents both wanted me to know that they were sorry for my loss. When it boils down to it, almost every human can understand the language of loss and love. Unfortunately, the message can often get lost in translation.

Knowing that R’s parents got the message and responded meant a great deal to me. It meant more than their reservations and cautionary feelings about me. If they can acknowledge and understand my hurt in this situation, they will be able to in others as well. The story between R and I is a pretty clear one: we automatically get so many things about each other and just keep growing in partnership. The story between R’s parents and I may take some more time to unfold. Though it’s a work in progress, the story has begun and living it page by page has proved to be far more meaningful than speculating or bemoaning it.

Igniting the fear and fascination of city dwellers, a cougar recently turned up roaming around my highly metropolitan area. The cat was a fairly big dude, about 5 feet in length 150lbs, and eventually made its way into the tiny backyard of a resident who described seeing the animal roam by his window as “surreal.” When the police came they tried to contain the beast, but when it lunged at a policeman it was shot and killed. Turns out, shooting the cougar was really the only option given how ill fitted the city is for large, wild animals. The cougar could have killed someone, and there was no easy access to vets or tranquilizers to entertain any other safe idea. This is an example of an ecotone: when two different ecosystems collide and cause tension. The cougar and the city dwellers were just doing what they knew to survive, unfortunately both could not survive together.

Fortunately, I made it out of my first Indian wedding alive, and though my experience isn’t as dramatic as the poor cougar’s fate, I certainly felt out of my element. After having traveled plenty of strange places, visiting Buddhist Mongolian homes, sleeping in $3 hostels, and not to mention my general love for Indian culture, one would think I could handle any kind of situation, any kind of pressure… right? In almost any other contexts and as a seasoned, brave explorer, I think I would have found The Indian Wedding a smörgåsbord of fascination and wonder. However, let me tell you, The Indian Wedding is a much different experience when you are dating one of their own.

Hey, this is a little bit… different!

First of all, I learned that people don’t typically bring dates to Indian wedding unless they are engaged or married to them. It’s just the way it is. Of course, I learned this after the fact and wondered if I was sort of scandalous or irreverent in some way by being R’s date. As I’m sure many of you know, dating is beyond the Traditional Indian periphery, and can be acknowledged as frivolous and even sometimes disrespectful towards the community. Even so, R was bold enough to bring me and really showed a lot of bravery and respect towards our relationship in doing so. Nonetheless, my R was not used to having a “date.” That’s number one.

Number two, it is typical for the ladies and the men to sort of have separate shin-digs throughout the ceremony/reception. So it was typical when R left to go hang out with the guys for 30-45 minutes and me in the company of the Indian gals (who I hardly knew). I couldn’t really understand why he was doing this because as a “date” at weddings I was under the impression that you…hang out with your “date.” So this dynamic, more specific to Indian weddings, sort of left me scratching my head a few times when R disappeared again. I finally told him, mildly exasperated, “Hey! If you’re going to bring me to these things, you have to hang out with me!”

I think this point kind of hints at differences typical of individualist versus collectivist mindsets. At “American” weddings you and your date, fiancé, or spouse usually kind of hang out together throughout the event. There might be times when you and your date go off and talk to others, but it’s usually not for the entire evening. Even though R left on and off at the Indian Wedding/Reception, he was probably the most attentive of the Indian guys to their “dates.” Indian weddings seem to be all about the community, the culture as a whole, and not so much coupling. At the reception, R even picked up a little wandering Indian kid who he didn’t know. When the family saw, they didn’t bat an eyelash and in fact, giggled. R of course eventually brought the little guy back. From the American weddings I’ve been at, most people are pretty vigilant about sticking their kids with who they know. An American might say, “Oh it’s dangerous and unsafe to let your kids wander!” But an Indian might roll their eyes and say, “Please, there is no harm, the kid is having fun, and we all take care of each other here.” It took me a bit to wrap my more individualist prone mind around these concepts.

As far as the sari I wore, the food I ate, and the incredible ceremonial aspects of the wedding itself, I was very comfortable throughout and immensely enjoyed myself. The length of the wedding (about 3.5 hours), all the getting ready, changing outfits for the reception, and the length of the reception rituals did get a little daunting and overwhelming at times. However, I was able to roll pretty well in my typical laid-back form through all those things.

The challenge of being out of my element

The part that puzzled and sort of challenged me most about The Indian Wedding is feeling disconnected from R and experiencing him in a dramatically different way than what I have grown used to. I was able to understand some of this because I knew he was nervous to bring a “date” (his first to an Indian wedding!), anxious about a family member meeting me, and I later realized how the Indian boy/girl camps work at these things. But I wasn’t used to him being so serious, running around and fulfilling needs of The Village as they arose (and inevitably will). It’s not that I was necessarily upset about seeing R as this different, distant person I usually know so intimately and well, I just felt ruffled, perplexed, and a bit out of my element with the whole production…just like the cougar in the backyard.

I didn’t realize these things until a day or two after the wedding…I knew it felt intense, new, and very different to me but I couldn’t pinpoint why right away. Usually I roll with ease in new and challenging situations, and often thrive in them, but it felt very different, and even a little anxiety provoking, to really be on the inside of it. Apart from a few quizzical comments, I didn’t get huffy or upset with R throughout the ceremonies. I tried to let my thoughts marinate and was able to revisit these issues with him a few days later.

R said he never wants me to feel disconnected from him, but stressed there are certain protocols at Indian weddings. Interestingly, he commented that he feels out of place at “American” weddings often being the odd man out…I suppose I got somewhat of a dose of my culture’s own medicine the day of the wedding, too. R and I wonder if maybe when we live in the same city (finally after a year and a half!) and can spend lots of time together, Indian community shin-digs won’t be so intrusive on our time together. I know this was just one instance, one event but I can’t help but wonder if R will always turn into this person I don’t know at the Indian gatherings, someone whose Indianness actually feels like a barrier rather than a source of admiration and intrigue.

Compromises and needs

The way I went about working through these fears is sharing my concerns with R and making a few of my Western needs clear. First, is that eventually (maybe it won’t happen until we are “official” in his parents eyes—I’m willing to wait) he can hold my hand and put his arm around me in public—at least when we are at functions in the States. Second, like I said to him at the reception, he’s going to have to continue to try and be more of a “date” even at Indian weddings and events—even if he’s around family. And I lastly, because of our occasionally different East/West mindsets, we’re really going to have to continue to work out these sorts of ongoing differences in terms of hanging out mostly with his family and friends. Sometimes I feel a little scared about it, like the misplaced cougar delving deep into something she doesn’t know, but when I think about what I have with R, and how receptive he is to my concerns, the risks really do seem worth it.

Take home lesson: Learn the framework—fight the urge to judge, get upset and say fiery things. If you’re new to Indian culture it’s going to take a while to learn the structure of ceremonies and the roles that are expected of people. Fight to take these things personally. Ask your partner to explain things, like Dr. Evil says, “Need the info!” After you have the info and understand the frameworks as they are (without judging them—cause you sure aint gonna change ‘em!), think about how you can fit into it in a way that is satisfactory to you. So think about your needs, think about what you can sacrifice and what you simply cannot. Communicate these things to your partner . . . and well . . . keep plugging along. You’re not alone.

“You are too prejudiced. You do not let your eyes see nor your ears hear, and that which is outside your daily life is not of account to you. Do you not think that there are things which you cannot understand, and yet which are? That some people see things that others cannot? … There are always mysteries in life.” – Abraham Van Helsing, metaphysician and scientist from Bram Stoker’s Dracula

I knew my Indian boyfriend was pretty down with his culture, but after meeting his brother-in-law I just looked at R amusedly and said, “Wow. He’s sooo Indian.” R knew exactly what I meant, smiled and said, “Oh, he totally is. You should see him in India. He’s absolutely in his element.”

Later I will unpack this exchange for Gori Girl readers. But first, some background. I’m a white American woman and my R is from a very traditional, South Indian (Telugu) family. Of the Indian families I have had the pleasure of knowing, I feel at liberty to say R’s is the “most hardcore” (i.e. traditional) I’ve known. For example, out of his 200 family members, only one ventured outside of Telugu culture to marry…a Gujarati. R’s little niece and nephew speak Telugu. His mom, pop, sister, brother-in-law, and their kids have often lived in the same house, sharing family responsibilities (which is very common for more traditional families). It has worked well for them.

After spending his first year of life in India, R would travel back almost every year for weeks, sometimes months, as a kid. As an adult he makes it to India at least once every 2-3 years. He has vivid memories of falling violently ill with Hepatitis A as a kid, has witnessed what can be the stifling effects of “the Indian mob”, and struggles to reconcile with the fact that his family members back home do not have the same opportunities he has in America. On a lighter note, he’s suffered through more painful Telugu movies than he can count. He’s also shared a meal with 4,000 people on his sister’s wedding day and considers Indian celebrations to be some of the most festive and vibrant in the world. He’s taken his non-Indian friends to India and enthusiastically introduced them to a whole new world. In India, R gets to hang out and nibble on the best food on the planet (ok, my bias), all day long. And though it’s hard to describe, he slips into an overall slower, more contemplative and thoughtful pace when he’s there. Over the years he has experienced India at its worst and at its best.

Despite all this, R’s more traditional cousins still say he has always “been a little different”. R also really appreciates the United States for the education he has received, the foods from all over the world found here, American music from all nooks and crannies, and well… if I talk about his Marvel comic book fetish he might kill me. Despite all I have listed about his experiences with India and the United States, I’m not sure I have pinpointed what makes him Indian as well as American quite yet.

R’s brother-in-law

AB, R’s brother-in-law, got married the traditional, arranged way. He lives with R’s family, is Hindu, and has of one of the more “typical” Indian professions. Perhaps some of these things somehow affect his “Oh so Indianness” as I initially described. But then again… not exactly. I knew that he did the arranged marriage, did the joint-family stuff before I met him. It might sound funny, but it only occurred to me to state “He’s soooo Indian” after having a drink and conversation with him.

This will be hard to do… but I’m going to try to describe what I think a small part of being Indian is all about. AB has a really chill yet solid way about him. The way he sits, even crosses his legs, puts his hand on his chin, and sort of looks, listens and doesn’t get frazzled about anything at all reminds me so much of my friends in India. It feels very grounding and comforting to be around these sorts of people. AB is someone who seems to really have assumed his traditional (dharmic) role that his family expected of him. However, he doesn’t strike me as a man who has apathy for his choices or a lack of personal agency.

An American may ask, “How do you just marry someone you don’t know? How do you live under your in-laws roof and rules? How do you just sacrifice everything you may want for the wishes (of what seems to be) everyone else? Why don’t you grow a pair and do what you want for yourself?” To this, AB might just shrug, smile a bit wryly, and proceed to look right through the inquisitive American. To AB these questions are not a part of the traditional Indian worldview. They are not a part of his worldview.

Perhaps at some point AB did entertain more individualist notions? Sometimes I think Americans find comfort in this notion, but I get that vibe that he is truly content with his life. He is someone who strikes me as exceptionally kind, and exudes an unyielding understanding for those who don’t even see the way he does. With a serene, uncanny, yet humble confidence he sort of communicates: “it is what it is and I unequivocally accept life in this way.” I mean, how many Americans can say that?

Most of the traditional, conservative Americans I know tend to be pretty set in a certain type of script—much like AB, as he is more conservative and traditional in his respective culture. However, the distinct difference I have noted in someone like AB is his ability to listen, absorb alternatives, and accept difference without judgment. Even AB’s mother-in-law (R’s mom) who is an ultra conservative Indian has said she has no personal problem with American culture, it’s just that she has a really hard time understanding and wrapping her mind around it given where she has come from. In my experience, I have met very few (if any) highly conservative, traditional Americans who exhibit the same Indian-cool in expressing their views and living their values.

I should also note that AB has an absolutely gorgeous, understanding, regal (and yes, oh so Indian) wife, the most adorable, good-natured kids you’ve even met, and very supportive in-laws. Following the traditions laid out centuries before his time worked very well for him.

Back to R

R is a lot like AB in terms of Indianness… but not completely. I think what makes R a “little different,” as his cousins say, is that he has lived most of his life in the U.S. However, many NRIs (non-resident Indians) still choose to go the traditional route just like AB did. I think somehow, for most of R’s life, he has had a little American pilot light on. He was always curious: he wanted to try dating, perhaps imagined more of a nuclear style family, wanted to further explore his quirky, off-beat tastes, and for lack of a better term, was intrigued with parts of an American, “individualist” lifestyle. But R never really felt he had a true opportunity to do these things given what he was raised to believe, what he saw directly modeled around him, and perhaps given the dharmic ideas his parents thought (and he sometimes thought) he had to follow. Unlike AB, following all the Indian ways never really resulted in happiness or contentment for R.

R tried the traditional route with a few arranged engagements, but it didn’t work for him. He also tried doing things the “American” way as well. R dated “Western style” for a while, but no one he met really inspired him to pursue anything more serious. So, because he hadn’t found anyone special through dating, he saw no need to disrupt his incredibly important and dear family life with such information.

Me and R, R and me

As R and I grew in our relationship, and partly because of my patience and understanding of his Indianness, he felt confident I was someone he could take that huge leap, that huge risk with his parents for. As he grew to trust me more and more, he knew he had a safety net, a support system, and someone who would unconditionally love him if he further explored the uncharted, sometimes uncertain territories intrinsic to the dating/American relationship process. This was also a process his parents and family would have a hard time understanding. However, as R finally found someone worth pursuing, he decided to take that risk and let his parents know he was dating someone non-Indian and more importantly, someone who made him truly happy.

Another one of the main reasons R was willing to take a risk, a leap with me, is that he knew I got it.Before knowing him I had traveled India for a month, had many Indian friends, went crazy about the food, and had an overall, general fascination with Indian culture. However, these things are not why I get it – instead:

• I get it because I am genuinely open to difference, exploring it, and am not quick to judge.
• I get it because I am willing to be patient and understanding of his family’s process of accepting me.
• I get it because I realize my culture doesn’t hold all the answers and am curious about what others may have to teach me.

R knew he wouldn’t have to totally become an individualist, an American in all ways to be with me—he knew he could be both Indian and American. I think R’s choice to be with someone like me is yet another example of his Indianness.

Now, before I get too far ahead of myself, I want to make clear that R has not and will not abandon the ways in which he is “Oh so Indian” as we progress in our relationship. AB and R’s Indianness has sure turned my American thinking upside down… and it has been an amazing ride. I expect to learn more and keep incorporating this Indianness into our lives. A lot of what attracted me to R in the first place was his calm, his humility, unbelievable work ethic, and uncanny acceptance of life the way it is. I mean, perhaps I could have found all these things in a white guy—but I never did. I have, however, felt overwhelmed with this strange and wonderful vibe that many of my Indian friends seem to give off.

One of my great friends of a decade, J, was born in India and moved to the States when he was a toddler. Though he has a pretty traditional family, he chooses to embrace individualism and American life in all ways. He dates, is still close with his family, loves basketball, but to be frank, is basically just like a nice white dude at heart. You could put the guy in a dhoti, shove curry down his throat, and blare Hindi music around him and he’s still be that coconut down the street (brown on the outside, white on the inside). So obviously, Indianness isn’t all about that stuff. J chuckles when I light-heartedly call him a coconut and razz him for not being more “Indian.” He knows I’m right! He says I am more Indian than him! Though I love J as a friend, I’ve never had a spark for him beyond his handsome brown skin. I guess I just prefer that hard to pinpoint Indianness far too much—so sue me.

Truth is, I’m not sure if I could ever be with anyone who’s 100% “Soooo Indian” either. I don’t fully get it—the worldview, the mindset—and I doubt I ever truly can. I do have a deep appreciation for it though. At the same time, I have found myself a little bored when dating on the other end of the spectrum: more typical, American men. What can I say: I do love a little difference, a little flava, and a little spark in my life. I suppose this can come in many forms, from people of all different places, but all I know is that I’m glad I found all these things in R.

Though R and I continually have things to work out considering the cultural divide, his traditional family, and parts of his Indianness I simply don’t (or won’t ever probably) get, we both feel we have a darn good shot at happiness given our goals, desires, and how well we fit together. I’m not saying things won’t get tough and difficult for me to understand, in fact I think they will, but I’ll be darned if I’m going into this with a dark and unhopeful attitude. Do you not think that there are things which you cannot understand, and yet which are? At the very least, R is a guy worth all my hopes, dreams, and risks in moving forward.

And lastly, I’d like to confess that by no means am I an expert on what Indianness is. All I really have to go on are my many impressions and hunches. It’s a tough thing, if not an impossible thing, especially for me – a Westerner – to define. Like so many wonderful and inexplicable things in life, I can’t always articulate what it is but I know it when I see it, when I feel it, and when I experience it. When I came back from a month in India, I felt an aching sadness that I had never felt before. India perplexed me as I felt I had loved, loathed, and then longed for it again, all at once. When someone asked me what I missed most about the place, the first thing I said was, “I miss the way people listen to you there.” I didn’t quite know how or why I had felt so heard there but I knew it was much different than anything I had experienced before. Much like my experience in the country, Indianness, I think, is many things: the tension of opposites, an ineffable mystery, and always, always, entirely moving.