Photo Credit: mary_gaston22

As most of you know, Diwali, the festival of lights, is upon us. I really love Diwali as a holiday – like Thanksgiving, it seems like a celebration we can all get something out of, regardless of our faiths or lack thereof. Focusing on light in our lives already in our lives, our thanks for the people who have helped us get to our current state of knowledge and happiness, and our wishes for increased light and good in a world is something I think everyone can get behind.

This year, for the first time, Aditya and I are stringing up lights outside the house. We’re a bit behind other people, though – about every fourth house in our new neighborhood has lights up, so we either have a lot of South Asians in the neighborhood or a lot of people who like to get ready for Christmas early! We’ll also be following a particular family tradition when we light our candles; I’ll post about that a little later with pictures.

Tomorrow night we’ll be going to his brother & sister-in-law’s house for a potluck Diwali party. We’re in charge of bringing the appetizers – any suggestions?

Anyone else have fun plans for the rest of the week or over the weekend?

Photo Credit: Mckaysavage

My first international trip occurred when I was four – we took a ferry to Victoria, Canada from Seattle during a Christmas vacation. I have only three hazy memories from that trip: shivering on the ferry from winter weather so unlike balmy California, walking along some cobblestone streets, and marveling at the snow and woolly mammoths.

In retrospect, I believe the woolly mammoth was behind glass at the Royal British Columbia Museum, but for years I informed people that Canada had weird streets, snow, and woolly mammoths.

By the time I met Aditya I’d had the chance to live abroad in Germany and travel around Europe and Mexico, so I was about as well prepared for a trip to India as anyone can be. Before that first departure, I was remember reading books on travel and India fervently in an effort to make my trip there – and the Hindu wedding Aditya and I would have – more enjoyable and stress-free. Most of the advice I found was garbage, to be honest – Aditya and I had a lot of laughs at the expense of writers who seemed to think that India was entirely composed of only squalor and spirituality, instead of, you know, regular folks living their lives. However, one short quotation I came across prior to that trip still stands out to me – it was great travel advice, especially for someone on her way to her wedding:

A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it. – John Steinbeck

Traveling anywhere means leaving the familiar where we’re comfortable and in control – to a large extent, that’s the purpose of travel. And so giving up control, and allowing India to be a shock to my (very Americanized) system ended up being half the fun.

So if you asked me for my number one piece of advice on traveling to India, that would be it – accept that traveling means giving up control, get ready to get uncomfortable, and learn to appreciate the unfamiliar quirks of the new place you’re at, even if they’re not the way you’d prefer things to be – after all, you’re only visiting.

Of course, this sort of advice, while important, is not helpful for specific concerns – concerns like the ones Cristina Chopalli lists in her recent article in India Currents asking for advice for her first trip abroad to India for her traditional wedding:

The Goods: What to Pack
· What medicines should I pack which may not be available in India?
· Any certain types of clothing?
· Are there any items which are common in America which people in India love, i.e. microwave popcorn?
· What type of gifts do we bring to family members? For ladies? For men? For kids?
Plane and Simple: How to be Comfortable on the Long Flight
· What should I keep in my carry-on bag?
· Do airlines serve good vegetarian food or should I pack some?
· Tips for maximum comfort in a confined space.
Ports of Call: A Guide to International Airports
· Best ways to spend a lay-over in an airport?
· Advice for smoothly getting in and out of airports: documentation, etc.
· Tips on Duty-Free shopping.
· Ways to overcome jet lag.
First Impressions: Culture Shock: Mental and Physical
· Common remedies for common ailments: tummy aches, bug bites, etc.
· Greeting family members for the first time.
Travel Within India: Planes, Trains, and Temples
· Tips for taking train journeys.
· Tips for air travel within India.
· Temples and places to visit on day trips in and around Bangalore.
The Indian Wedding: Let’s Get Married!
· Any general advice for a bride getting married in South India.
The Road Home: Travelling Back to America
· What items should I bring back from India?
· Is the trip back more exhausting?

Since a lot of us have been in (or currently are in) the same spot as Cristina – anticipating our first trip to India, possibly our first international trip ever, going to see our partner’s family members, looking forward to a traditional wedding in an unfamiliar land – I thought it would be great if we could all pitch in with a bit of advice for her.

So, I’d love to hear both your number one piece of advice for Cristina, as well as any answers you have for her specific questions. Please leave your advice in the comments for everyone to learn from, and, if you have the time, email them to the editors at India Currents at editor@indiacurrents.com. I’ve given my most important piece of advice above – I’ll post my answers to Cristina’s questions in a couple of days in the comments section as well, and email the editors so they’re aware of what I hope will be a great resource with lots of advice.

In the process of packing up and shipping all of my office files, notebooks, computer equipment and such from Virginia to San Francisco, I noticed that a few Indian accessories have crept into my desk knick-knacks over the years. In celebration of completely unpacking all of my office stuff (fist pump!), I thought I’d share some snaps of the various items with you guys. We have plenty of Indian accessories at home, too – you can expect a celebration post for finishing unpacking the house in maybe five or six months…

The first picture, at the top of the post, is an Indian folk art painting that Aditya and I received as a gift at our Hindu wedding. I snapped it up immediately for my office – it just adds such a nice spot of color to the rather bland walls of corporate America cubicals!

My favorite item, though, is the smallest of the bunch: a little Ganesh statue which sits under my monitor. No conclusions yet on whether he removes excel errors – the biggest obstacles keeping me from getting home at a reasonable hour – from my spreadsheets or not.

And then there’s the obligatory picture of Aditya and me on my desk. This one is of the two of us in Indian clothes for Halloween (yes, lame, I know – we were feeling lazy) a whole six years ago – back when we were in college! Aditya looks a little younger in the face, but otherwise he hasn’t changed much at all.

I always have a few packets of Maggi noodles on hand for days when I forget lunch, and an Indian shawl for when the office is more freezing than usual, but I’ll spare you pictures of those rather mundane items. Then there’s a lovely little Indian textbook on actuarial statistics that has saved my butt a time or two – it’s better than my graduate texts in econometrics for some things! But I try not to inflict my bookshelf on anyone who hasn’t already expressed an interest in multivariate analysis.

Rounding up my desk knick-knacks are two European items – one German, one Italian. First, there’s my German mistake-of-the-day calender for language learners that I purchased the last time I was in the country. (Yes, mistake-of-the-day, not phrase or word-of-the-day. This is the culture that is Germany).  I also have a cool figurine from the Vatican that Aditya got me. But he suffered a flesh wound en route from Virginia, and still needs to be patched up.

(To learn more about flesh wounds, watch the following clip.)

Allow me to introduce you to my new favorite artist, Nidhi Chanani. I first stumbled on Nidhi’s work on etsy, which is an online community for buying and selling handmade items. I was immediately in love with her whimsical, joyful drawings. Once I found her personal website and bio I realized why the art brought such a smile to my face – while Nidhi was born in India, she grew up in California, is married interculturally – and infuses her art with the diversity of her life.

From an immigrant mother shopping in an American grocery store…

I followed my mom everywhere, holding on to the edge of her sari. It was soft and silky like the comfort of her love.

…to India’s faiths…

…to a group of friends driving along chatting…

to a tribute for her first wedding anniversary…

… all of Nidhi’s work seems to celebrate pieces of the world that I love too.

I could keep posting more images, but instead I encourage you to browse over to her store or page through her extensive blog obsessively (like I did).

If you want to know more about Nidhi, here are two recent interviews at Septa Mutiny and the Anti-Achievers. Oh, yeah, and she apparently makes a mean paneer and takes commissions for artwork. I’m still working on Aditya to get us a personalized image of the two of us and perhaps the two pups as well.

This weekend a bunch of us “gori bloggers” were featured in an article in the Mid-Day Mumbai. It’s a fun little piece, with lots of different viewpoints featuring some of my favorite bloggers – the questions the editor at Mid-Day asked were pretty thought-provoking for what I thought was a tabloid! I’ve uploaded scanned versions of the article beneath the fold, along with the complete answers I sent in.

Like most popular magazine articles, the editors Sowmya Rajaram and Suparana Thombare had to severely edit my words (and, I’m assuming, the other bloggers) in order to fit everything into the space allotted to them for the feature. But I think they captured my sentiments pretty well, overall.

The other bloggers featured were, from top to bottom:

• The Bad Bhabi –  here’s her post on the Mid-Day article
• A Girl From Foreign
• Gori Rajkumari – here’s her post on the press
• My Indian Love – here’s her post regarding her interview
• By Two Kaapi – here’s her post on the article
• Cyn’s Adventures in India

(click to enlarge)

My answers to the Sowmya’s questions ended up being insanely long, so read at your own risk! I’ve also linked to some relevant older posts for each question.

1) Your blog is wildly popular. What are the questions that readers in similar situations (intercultural relationships) ask most of you? What do you tell them?

The most common sort of question that I receive is about cross-cultural family difficulties – either the couple is trying to figure out the best way to “come clean” about their intercultural relationship to either the Western or the Indian family, or they have told the family and objections to the relationship are flying fast and thick. This doesn’t mean that most Indian families or Western families are prejudiced against intercultural relationships – it’s just that people in that sort of situation are more likely to come seeking advice and end up on my blog or forum.

My advice to these couples almost always boils down to three key points:

1. No (sane) parent wants their child to be unhappy. If parents or other family members are objecting to your relationship, it’s because they truly think that you (or the family as a whole) is better off without this intercultural-ness They’re probably wrong in their beliefs, but their intentions are almost always coming from a good place.
2. Try to figure out why there are objections – or if the family hasn’t been told yet, what sort of objections may arise. And then keep talking to the family about why your intercultural relationship is okay, despite what the family currently believes. Many of these objections arise from simple ignorance or misconceptions about the other culture – that Americans don’t care about family or respect their elders, that India is disease-filled land where everyone always has malaria or typhoid. Each person’s job is to help their family better understand the land their partner comes from – and about the specific values their partner holds too. Be a bridge to better understanding.
3. Remember that you’re an adult, and, ultimately, you’re responsible for your own choices and your own happiness. And the same goes for the rest of your family. I’ve heard about some sad situations where parents have issued an ultimatum: break up or you’re cut off from the family. That’s a horrible position to be placed in, but life doesn’t always give us easy options. I can understand choosing either way, but do recognize that it’s a choice that you’re making – just like it was your parents’ choice to make that ultimatum.

More on initial family issues and Aditya’s advice for intercultural relationships

2) What was the thought behind the blog? Why did you start it? What has the response been like?

I started the blog because my first efforts to find information about Indian culture or intercultural relationships wasn’t very fruitful. There wasn’t much out there on the web, and what did exist was mostly negative. This was very early on in my relationship with Aditya, and it got me both worried and a bit angry. Was my intercultural relationship doomed to fail? And why did all these stories seem to portray India and Indian families in the worst possible light? I knew from my own interactions with Aditya and his family that, while there can be problems and miscommunication, there are plenty of positive things too! So I decided to start blogging to provide a more balanced example of an intercultural relationship – a blog where people can come together to thoughtfully discuss both the ups and downs of being in an intercultural relationship, and work on solving any problems from a positive perspective.

Overall, I feel the response has been very wonderful! I’m very lucky in the thoughtful and dedicated readers and forum members I have. When people come to the blog with questions or problems, well, I’m only one person. I’ll offer my thoughts and advice on an issue, but someone else may have better experience with that problem, and be able to offer better advice. I’m always learning something new about India, intercultural relationships, or just relationships in general from my readers, and I love that.

More on being a “gori” and check out the forums!

3) What has been your most memorable ‘Indian’ experience since you got into this relationship? Why?

Well, I could point to my Hindu wedding in Calcutta – that was certainly a big, fun and very Indian event! But I think the most memorable experience is actually the first time my in-laws came to visit Aditya and me for a few months after we were married. This may seem a bit odd to your readers – after all, it’s pretty normal to have your family for extended visits in India. But for an American, having your in-laws – or any family members – stay with you for months at a time just to visit is very uncommon. American families can be as emotionally close as any Indian families, but we do like to have a bit more distance physically generally! So the experience of having Maa and Baba staying with us was very different, for me. I was a bit uncomfortable at first, since I just wasn’t used to any of it – having chai and biscuits to start the day, Indian food for most meals, coming home from work and finding a loud discussion taking place in Hindi or Bengali… As time went on, I became more comfortable, and now I look forward to their long visits quite a bit.

More on Maa and Baba’s initial visit and a more recent visit.

4) Can you give us a couple of anecdotes about marriage to an Indian man that people may not have read on the blog?

In February, Aditya and I went on our biennial trip to India – we split half our time with family, and half our time traveling around Rajasthan and northern India on our own. Now, my husband, like many Indians, is cricket-mad, so he was quite happy to learn that he could get text updates of the India – South Africa series underway while we were traveling around. See the sights AND follow the game – what more could he want?

Well, we were touring an amazing jewelery museum-cum-store in Agra. And while I’m oohing and ahhing over all pretty baubles, most of which are well over my budget, he takes out his phone, looks at his texts, and starts pacing. Before long, he tells me that we need to go – right now – to the hotel. So I’m pulled reluctantly away to our car – I hadn’t even made it to the second floor yet – and we speed off to the hotel. Once we get there, he tosses his passport at me, tells me to check in, and runs full throttle into the hotel, asking where the television is – because Sachin is at 182 and going strong. After checking in and managing our luggage in the strangely deserted lobby, I go in search of my errant husband.

It was a surreal scene. Aditya is at the bar in front of a big TV, still pacing, joined by five or six of the hotel staff, while the non-Indian hotel guests look on in confusion. The Indians are cursing at Dhoni for hitting sixes and fours while Sachin sits at 198. The hotel manager is sweating. And then Sachin gets his chance, and his 200 and all the Indians in the room are going crazy. And maybe I go a little crazy too. Cricket-fever is catching, after all, and Aditya’s been exposing me to the game for over seven years now.

At least he didn’t drag me out of the Taj Mahal.

More on our latest trip to India.

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My husband calls one of our dogs a lady kutta. He means it lovingly (mostly, anyways… I think), but I hadn’t realized exactly how accurate the descriptor was until I visited India a second time, after we had adopted her from the humane society here in the US. Kajol (our dog, not the actress) is exactly what you would get, both in looks and behavior, if you took a street dog from India, fed it well, and bathed it every once in a while. She is somewhat ill-mannered, responds to Bengali tongue-lashings by looking guilty, but never feels guilty for making a racket in the middle of the night, and delights in knocking over the trash to rummage through scraps. Despite being fed well.

Sometimes I feel bad for giving her the name “Kajol” – it is too dignified for a dog like her, despite the kohl markings around her eyes. “Gobi” was our initial choice, but Maa thought that no dog, however undignified, should be named after a vegetable (even one as tasty as gobi). So she’s Kajol. My undignified little street dog living a life of luxury.

More on Kajol and on Kajol and our second dog, Panda.

5) You have vehemently talked about how much you hate stereotypes on your blog. Still, a woman in a relationship like yours must have to deal with some amount of cultural stereotyping..both in India and abroad. What is that like and how do you deal with it?

I actually don’t mind stereotypes too much – if they come from uninformed strangers. If someone comes up to me and says, “Wow, you’re married to a Hindi person – he, like, prays to every cow he meets, right? That’s so weird!”, then I’ll be annoyed a bit, but I also see it as a teachable moment. Here’s someone who clearly doesn’t know much about Hinduism – I can get angry at his ignorance, or I can try to make it a productive interaction and have him walk away better informed and more respectful about a religion that has one billion adherents. The same thing can happen in India – like it or not, I’m often an ambassador for American culture while in India, since I’m the first American many people have spoken to. I can’t help the stereotypes that strangers have formed about Americans (often from Hollywood movies – which are not representative of American culture), but I can help dispel these stereotypes through both discussion and the way I interact with others day-to-day.

What I do mind is stereotypes that come from people who should know better – people who are in a position to inform themselves about a culture, but don’t. I firmly believe that if you’re married to an Indian, you have a responsibility to go beyond stereotypes in your understanding of Indian culture. The same goes for Indians in relationships with people from other cultures. And, of course, it’s important to remember that even if you’re married to an Indian, you’re only seeing one aspect of Indian culture. India is a diverse place, and it’s filled with lots of different subcultures – just like the US.

More on cultural stereotypes and learning to understand and accept cultural differences.

6) Can you tell us a little bit about yourself… What you do, how long you’ve been married, what your husband does?

I received my masters in economics in 2008 and have since been working as a consultant in energy markets. My work currently focuses on the regulation of pollutants produced by power plants in the United States, but I’ve worked on projects related to India’s energy markets as well. It’s very, very different work from writing a blog on intercultural relationships, but I enjoy the diversity! Aditya recently became the director of product management at a start-up in Silicon Valley, so we just shifted from Washington DC to San Jose, California. I’m originally from the area, and Aditya’s brother moved here from India a few years ago, so it’s been very nice to be near family again. We’ve actually been staying with his brother for the past few weeks while looking for a new house!

Aditya and I have been married for almost four years. We had a civil ceremony in the US, since I’m not religious, and then a Hindu wedding in India a year later, once Aditya’s green card was processed. We have two dogs, but aren’t quite ready for children. We do enjoy spoiling all of our nieces and nephews, though!

More on me and on being an atheist marrying into a Hindu family.

7) Where does Gori Girl go from here? Any plans to move to India? Where does the blog go from here?

We’re both open to the possibility of moving to India. If the right opportunity in India came along for either one of us, we’d certainly move, but right now we’re enjoying our lives and careers here in California. As far as the blog goes, I write when I have the free time – but there’s a lot going on in my life that cuts into writing time! Work, friends, family, and lots of hobbies – Aditya and I love to go backpacking and to travel generally. I’m also working on becoming more fluent in Hindi – learning a language takes up more time than you’d think.

As long as people are still interested in my writing, though, I’ll keep blogging. And if an opportunity comes along to write in another venue, I’d be open to that too.

More on learning Hindi and why I find it difficult.

8 ) Can you give us some tidbits about visiting India, and following some Indian customs… I absolutely loved your post about sindoor… It was witty and sweet at the same time. Some more stuff like that?

I am clumsy when it comes to cloth. I didn’t realize this for the first twenty-odd years of my life, because, really, in the US, unless you sew stuff, you don’t handle cloth (and I am assuredly not the sewing, home-making type; ask my in-laws about my cleaning ability sometime when you need to laugh). In causal California, you grab a pair of jeans, throw on a t-shirt, and you’re done. No thinking for the rest of the day, no worrying about how things drape. But traditional Indian clothes – the sari, the duppatta – Indian clothes are cloth. And my fingers have never needed to know how to pleat or wrap. My shoulders have never had to keep a scarf draping just right across my torso. And, for the love of all that is fashion, I have never, ever, needed to wear something on my head that wasn’t a baseball cap.

That all changed, of course, when I started dating Aditya – and, more specifically, when I started visiting India. In the US I can fit in well enough at an Indian function – as well as a white girl ever will – by wearing a nice pair of jeans (casual California, remember?) and a short or mid-length kurta. In India, I need to wear saris to some functions (like, say, my Bengali wedding), and a duppatta is strongly suggested while wearing salwar kameez, at least in rural areas. Worse, while touring Rajasthani holy sites on our last trip, I felt it was most appropriate (and often required) to use my duppatta has a head covering.

There are not words for how stupid I looked.

Now, I’m sure there are plenty of American women who look excellent wearing a scarf to cover their heads. I know I saw more than a few pulling off the look while I was in India. So it’s not something you must be born to in order to achieve success. But me? I look like someone tossed a duppatta on my head and then I managed to knot it up around my tangled hair while trying unsuccessfully to escape from this evil piece of cloth attempting to suffocate me. Which is, more or less, what occurred at every temple we stopped at. If I could breathe, see, and had 80% of my head covered, I considered it a moral victory, even while it was a fashion tragedy.

After my first visit to India, I promised myself that I would learn how to wear a sari without requiring five people’s help in pleating and pinning. I’ve more or less achieved that goal, although I still need Aditya to do a final straightening check on my pleats. My new goal, after our trip through Rajasthan, is to conquer covering my head with a scarf and not looking like I escaped from somewhere with padded walls.

I’ll let you know when I make any progress.

9) Have you visited India yet? What are your impressions of India and Indian people from everything you’ve seen, read and heard?

Yes, I’ve been to India twice, and spent about a month and a half total in the country. When I first visited India, I was completely overwhelmed. I think that’s a common response from Westerns visiting India for the first time, but I have the benefit of going to visit every couple of years for the rest of my life – I’ve got time to get over my overwhelmed-ness.

I love India. Not because of it’s rich historical heritage, although our trip around Rajasthan was the best traveling experience I’ve ever had. Not because of the food, although I could eat Indian food (from Goan curries to Bengali sweets) every day for the rest of my life and be happy. Nor do I love it for the colorful, spiritual, noisy, dusty, and frankly bewildering atmosphere which it seems all Westerners who love India gush about – although it is true that India has atmosphere in abundance.

No, I love India because it’s what “home” means to my husband. It’s the place where his family – where part of my family – lives. If I wasn’t married to an Indian, India would be an enjoyable place to travel – but there are many enjoyable places to travel in the world. India is special, because India is the place, for better or worse, that I’ve managed to marry myself to.

My most important post on India.

10) How hard was it to get both sets of parents around? Can you tell us a little bit about the early stages of the relationship..what it was like convincing people and adapting to a different culture?

I didn’t have time to address this question, since Aditya and I were moving – we’re thrilled to be back in Silicon Valley. However, I pointed Sowmya to my older post on meeting Aditya’s parents for the first time.

Esther Duflo, a development economist at MIT, recently won the John Bates Clark Medal – which is basically means the economics field is saying “You’re brilliant, doing amazing work, but not quite wrinkly enough to win win the Nobel. Please stick around for 20 more years and Sweden will be calling.”

Duflo’s work is all about figuring out what sort of aid programs work and what don’t, so that our aid efforts end up actually helping the poor – basically, she’s taking development work out of the dark age, “we think using leeches to rebalance the humors will help” era of thinking and into an era where scientifically rigorous experiments will let us know what actually does work. In the video above (from the wonderful TED) she explains the sort of work she does, and the results from some of her studies – for instance, in one experiment in Udaipur, India she was able to figure out a way to increase full child immunization six fold for only pennies per child. It’s a very understandable and clear talk, and I highly encourage you to give it 15 minutes of your time.

Development economics is a field very near and dear to my heart, since I think we all have a duty to help  the absolute poor around the world (but not by giving money to beggars). Moreover, as I’ve written before, it’s critically important to help out in ways that are effective – not just the ways that make us, the donors, feel good. Yes, starting your own charity to help the poor back home (something I see and read about many NRIs doing) makes you feel good (and heck, I’d like to have a charity named after me: the “Jaclyn Chaudhuri Foundation for Malaria”, I’d call it). And, yeah, you’re probably doing some good – but not as much as you could be doing. It’s much better for you to donate your money directly to existing organizations which can leverage your money into their existing – and proven effective – programs. For a list of such programs, both in the US and internationally, I encourage you to visit Givewell.net, an organization which has done all the hard work of figuring out what programs are doing the best job at making real and measured progress at improving people’s lives.

Ringing endorsement, eh? But let me explain…

Our recent trip to India was:

• Delicious. There wasn’t a single day where we didn’t have great food – of all sorts: chocolate confections at Barista, Maharaja Macs from McDonlds, crazy spicy Indo-Chinese prawns, the best chole bhature both Aditya and I have ever had, endless kabobs cooked to order, and simple-but-amazing home food. I won’t mention how much weight I gained, but let’s just say that there’s a reason I’m now working out six times a week.
• Heart-warming. We saw a lot of family, some of whom I’d never met, as well as a fair number of  friends and close teachers that Aditya hadn’t seen since high school. More than once there was a dispute over who we would stay with, or who would get to take us around the city, which was both endearing and a bit awkward (for me, at least).
• Tiring . We visited Delhi, most of the cities of Rajasthan, Agra, Delhi, Bombay, Calcutta,  Shantiniketan, and Delhi again in just a little over three weeks. Whew!
• Enchanting. Hands down, the experiences of this trip – the places seen and the people we spoke to – beat out any other travel I’ve done. We took thousands of pictures, and could have easily taken thousands more.
• Educational. Traveling through India is a fascinating experience for anyone with a curious eye – doubly so if you’re  interested in development economics. Not an hour went by where I didn’t notice some facet of life that I could relate back to an economic paper or three, from the slow push of technology into the most rural of settings to the new hybrid cultures and social norms that appear in the wake of globalization.
• Full of only-in-India moments. From turning a corner to see a cow giving birth on a narrow street in Jaisalmer (post with graphic pictures to follow in the future) to incessant begging in Ajmer to traveling on a bus-rickshaw in Calcutta, our trip was filled with times where we’d simply have to turn to each other and laugh.

One thing India wasn’t, however, was hard. Let’s put that in bold:

India, this time around, wasn’t hard.

And that fact really surprised me – so much that it’s taken over a month to write my first post on the trip as I try to figure out why traveling though India wasn’t the challenge that it was the first time.

Don’t get me wrong – India is never challenge-free, even for people who’ve lived there their entire lives. Nor was our trip without its difficult moments – the one-two-three punch I got in Jaipur of a head cold, Delhi Belly, and typical period tiredness completely kicked my ass, for instance.

And it’s not that our last trip to India was so horribly difficult that this one simply must have been easier in comparison. Our last trip to India was filled with our amazingly fun Hindu wedding in Calcutta, a mini honeymoon to the Ajanta and Ellora caves (by train!), over a week seeing the sites in Bombay while staying with Aditya’s sister, Didi, and a chance to welcome Didi’s son – the first grandchild in the immediate family – into the world.

But as great as that trip was – and it was pretty awesome by any standard you could name – it was also tough at times. Difficult. Hard.

The first trip run-down (of me)

On the first day it was the jet lag that I felt I was swimming through; the traffic of Bombay (“Oh,” I quietly thought to myself, “I knew it was going to be wild, but, um, how have we not yet hit two cars, half a dozen rickshaws, and a barnyard animal or two?”); the noise of the horns, the people, the street dogs, the call to prayer; meeting my very pregnant sister-in-law and her husband for the first time (“Didi!’ Aditya called out excitedly as we exited the car upon arrival, “Your face has gotten so fat!” “How did he not get socked one for that?” I wondered); the six waiters hovering by at our lunch table, read to jump if the water level in anyone’s glass dropped more than inch below the rim; the contrast between the restaurant, the snazzy department store, the immaculate marble-floored home and the dust and grime and litter of the street.

On the second day it was the exhaustion of traveling yet again, the traffic of Calcutta (“Oh… fewer cars, more rickshaws equals more jostling and greater speeds. Spiffy!”); the announcement that the shower head was broken, and we’d be bathing by bucket; the delicious curry and potatoes… for breakfast; the small cup of tea when I needed a big jolt of caffeine; the pleased look on my mother-in-law’s face when I said I’d try wearing a sari. the family tree that I felt I had to memorize immediately (and then promptly lost in my non-caffiniated, jet-lagged fugue); my uncertainty in navigating the social waters of new family and family friends; the anxiety of a wedding ceremony that evening.

As the trip continued, there were the three days where I showered in cold water, having failed to comprehend my lesson on the bathroom geyser; the oddness of a maid, Sunita Didi, in the house, offering to sleep in my room so that I wouldn’t be alone after Aditya left to go back to the US; trips to the market in rickshaws; the subtle differences of hospitals in India versus the US (we need passes to visit Didi and the baby in their room, and we only get two per family?!?); the guilty and sheepish looks around the room when everyone realized they’d slipped into Bengali; feeling like an unsatisfied teenager as I ransacked my suitcase once again to try to piece together an ensemble suitable for the day’s outings, only to realize that I’d forgotten a head-covering for the historic Islamic site; the thrice-daily assurances that, no, really, I do like Indian food, and I don’t mind eating it again at all…

The good outweighed the hard stuff (not bad stuff – hard stuff) so much that it barely merits more than a footnote or self-depreciating story or two (“So, it wasn’t until the third day that I exited shivering from the bathroom that Aditya realized something was amiss…”) in the travelogue. But that doesn’t mean that the hard stuff didn’t happen.

I realize that this litany of difficulties is not that remarkable – most every traveler finds India hard (although I doubt most Westerners also have to deal with being a “new” daughter-in-law with family that you’re just beginning to know & understand at the same time). But it’s still the truth of my experience, and I think it’s worth writing out, if only so that everyone can realize that you can go into a trip to India with an open mind, a flexible attitude, research out of the wazoo… and still find it hard, at times. Plus, writing it out reminds me that

India, this time around, wasn’t hard – I knew what to expect.

And that’s the real message of this post. India was so much easier for me the second time around because I knew what sort of situations to expect, what sort of cultural practices we might run into, what sort of hassles there could be, and, overall, what the experience of India is like.

Pollution, dust, litter? Bring it on – I’ve got my hand sanitizer and a bottle of water in my bottomless IKEA tote. Beggers on the street? I’ve got a few Hindi phrases to whip out. Rickshawing down the streets of Delhi? Better than a roller coaster. Muslim pilgrimage site? I’ve got a scarf. We’re rationing water in Delhi? All I need is one bucket of water… preferably heated. Grocery shopping? I know what candies and snacks I’m picking out. And yes, curry for breakfast sounds absolutely amazing.

The knowledge of what to expect ran both ways – my in-laws now have the whole American daughter-in-law thing more or less figured out. One of the best moments of the trip was when Maa pulled out a beer stein in their house in Shantiniketan, and told me it was for my (grande-sized) cups of tea. True love in big shots of caffeine.

Aditya, in his one and only blog post here, wrote a lot about managing expectations to keep the peace between spouses or other family members (like Indian parents who possibly expect you to have an arranged marriage). But, in thinking about this past trip to India, I feel that expectations – developed through experience  – are key in managing most aspects of an intercultural relationship. Having visited India – having experienced Aditya’s home-culture – I’ve learned a lot about what to expect from my Indian family and my future trips to India. A few days ago I wrote about communication challenges in intercultural marriages, and right on cue, Aditya and I had a small argument about me contradicting him in public. This is an argument we have both come to expect, since, as I wrote, communication remains our most difficult area. But with a clear expectation that we will have these sorts of disagreements – and having experienced these arguments in the past- has come an ease that I wouldn’t have expected in the earlier years of our relationship. Just like I couldn’t have imagined on that first trip that India, the second time around, would be so much easier.

Photo Credit: mckaysavage

A commenter at this site, Lurker Frequent (aka LF), has once again asked a really interesting set of related questions in the comments section of a recent post that I’d like to address as a proper post, since I have plenty to say on the topic. Here are his questions:

I am very curious to know about relationship dynamics in your Indian American Household, with regards to the cultural differences in customs in India and America.

More specifically, in India, people invite each other over and unexpectedly drop in and hang out and do things together. In the US it’s more planned, and “khatirdari” is less common in this DIY land. How does it work in your family? How do you handle all the social obligations of an Indian wife?

… the Indian bahu is “supposed” to do a bunch of stuff like cook, clean, wash, entertain the guests, manage social life etc. etc etc. It’s all voluntary though, no pressures in modern day families. How’s your “Bahurani” experience been like? Do you guys do all of that?

I think I’ll shelve the “chores” section of the question for a later date to focus on the hospitality portion of  LF‘s questions.

So what follows here are my thoughts on hospitality generally in intercultural households, the interculturalness (or lack thereof) of our household hosting , and some general tips that might be of use to others.

My Five Basic Rules of Hospitality for Our Intercultural Household:

1. Paraphrasing Emily Post: being a good host means having a sensitive awareness of the feelings of your guests. If you have that awareness, you have good hospitality, no matter which culture you’re dealing with.
2. However, I am not an Indian wife. This is not just an Indian household. Our hospitality will not be identical to the Indian version (if there is such a thing). That’s okay.
3. Likewise, Aditya is not an American husband. This is not just an American household. Our hospitality will not be identical to the American version (if there is such a thing). That’s fine.
4. While I’ll try my best to be polite and courteous to you in a manner that you’re used to,  there are also practical and ethical considerations. Also, I’m not a mind-reader.
5. If something isn’t working in our hosting routine, then Aditya and I need to discuss it. The values we care about in offering hospitality to our guests do differ – but this is only a weakness if we don’t communicate. Otherwise it’s a strength.

I think these rules are pretty clear by themselves. We’re a mixed-culture household, so the hospitality we offer is not going to be entirely Indian or American. On the American side of the ledger, we have frozen pizza in the fridge for guests dropping by during dinner, and our kitchen is generally a “help-yourself” kind of place. On the Indian side, most of our snacks & soda are imports, I always offer tea to anyone entering the house (mostly as an excuse to make some for myself), and you’re welcome to come over whenever and stay to whenever (friends have been known to come over, then mention that they’re spending the night), even if you just want to use us for our ping-pong table in the basement. (A common occurrence when we’re having a party is for guests to slip into the house unnoticed by the dogs or us, then head straight to the basement, where they’re discovered later playing ping-pong.)

American and Indian ways – that different?

However,  beyond basic customs (like offering tea or chaat to guests), I feel like it is somewhat artificial to say “this style of hospitality is American while that style is Indian. Frankly, I don’t feel like Aditya & I have a system of hospitality deeply different than what would occur if I were married to an American.  Perhaps LF‘s questions don’t give Americans enough credit in hospitality (I can’t speak to whether enough credit is given to South Asians or not).

For example, while my own family’s home didn’t operate on an “anyone’s free to drop in” manner, I do think that there are plenty of American homes that do. Consider southern hospitality, where it can be a point of pride to feed anyone who shows up around meal time. Or, to take a closer example to me, my grandparents’ household seems to have operated exactly in the “drop in whenever” manner while my father was growing up; with six children in the family, someone was always dragging a friend or three home, and the meals were made accordingly. In fact, my grandparents’ hospitality was (and is) so accepting of others that when my uncle was teaching English in Japan as part of the JET Program, he’d routinely tell Japanese acquaintances that they should stop in and visit his parents if they were ever in that part of California. Which resulted in more than one occasion of a Japanese visitor showing up on the doorstop, suitcase in hand for an overnight stay, speaking only enough English to make it clear that my uncle had sent them.

Perhaps the gene of welcoming folk into the house skips a generation, but, whatever the reason, I find that I feel the same way about guests coming to our house.  While we rarely have people come over without notice (see below), everyone in our social circle knows that they’re welcome to come over when they like. A coworker of mine, for example, more-or-less invited herself over to stay with Aditya and I during Christmas, since she won’t be able to be with her family – and this was absolutely fine with me. Some of this attitude, I suppose, might be because of Aditya’s influence – after all, he didn’t bat an eye when informed that this friend would be spending the weekend with us – but it’s also just the way I like to roll.

My easy-going attitude may also be partially due to the fact that it hasn’t been tested as hard as it seems Lucky Fatima,  Sharell of White Indian Housewife or C of American-Nepali Household. After all,  all of our South Asian friends, period:

1. have lived in the United States for at least five or six years
2. have gained their undergraduate degrees at American universities, and
3. are young (there’s no one older than 35 in our social circle here in DC)

Thus, all of our friends are pretty comfortable socializing in an “American” way (if there is such a thing). They call before coming over, and aren’t surprised that Aditya carries half of the hosting burden. Perhaps my attitude would change if I were faced with a more constant barrage of guests. Or more traditional ones. Would I feel more pressure to be a “normal Indian bahu”? Maybe. But, then again, maybe not – I’m not exactly one for compromising my values for the sake of appearances, as I discussed in my “When in Rome, Do As the Romans Do… Sometimes” post.  And things like gender equality (Aditya’s getting up to make the tea just as often as I am) and casualness (help yourself to whatever you’d like, don’t wait for me to offer it, ’cause I can be forgetful)  are things I value in my household.

General Tips to Ease Cross-Cultural Hosting

1. Remember that, as a host, you should be focused on making your guests comfortable – but there are limitations. If a guest comes over who’s afraid of dogs, we’ll put our two on leashes, and keep them away from the guest. But we aren’t going to kick the dogs outside in the winter (well, maybe the Malamute…).
2. Keep in mind that you live in an intercultural household, and that it’s okay for your hosting to incorporate traditions from both cultures. Your guests from a particular culture will probably be willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.
3. As a couple, talk about the limits you’d like to draw regarding how much you’re willing to follow any particular culture’s traditions in hosting guests.
4. If there’s a particular cultural “hospitality rule” that’s getting you frustrated or down, figure out a solution as a couple.  Consider creating a “code” you can use that won’t make a guest uncomfortable. For example, if guests coming over all the time was frustrating me, I’d probably create a “the dogs are restless with all the people around- I’m going to take them for a quick jog” code to Aditya to indicate to him that I needed more “me” time soon. (The dogs are always full of energy, so it’s not even a lie – just a convenient truth.)
5. Keep on hand the sort of things that guests coming over might appreciate to eat and drink – in our case, that means extra frozen naan, lentils, and Indian snacks, soda, and tea for the South Asians; spicy dried squid, mochi, and fine green tea for the East Asians; and frozen pizza and chips for the Americans. And extra toothbrushes (overnight guests) and ice cream for all.
6. If there’s a particular cultural hospitality tradition that you feel you must follow that you don’t particularly like (it happens), remeber that you’re still the one in control, making the choice to follow the tradition for some greater good. So grin, try to get some pleasure out of it (like your own home version of office buzzword bingo!), and know that that’s just part of being an adult.

Photo Credit: Prince Roy

If you want to help Indian children, please don’t give to child beggars.

Of all of the advice I might give to individuals traveling to India – or most of the developing world – the most important one would be

Don’t give to beggars

I realize this sounds cruel and callous. It feels cruel and callous to me, even when I know it’s the best choice – especially when I’m sitting in an air-conditioned car in India, idling at a red light, and  people who are clearly poor, clearly in need come to the window begging for a small handout. Just a few rupees, which, to an American or other Western traveler, is next to nothing. Change I probably wouldn’t bother to pickup off the ground if I saw it. Can you ignore such clear need without guilt creeping up on you?

I can’t. I feel guilty for my Western extravagance when I see the numerous beggars in India. Very guilty. But I still don’t give them any money. The reason is because I know – from a few simple economic principles – that giving to beggars is not a particularly noble deed. In fact, I’d say that giving to beggars in a poor, developing country – like India – is a bad act. It certainly doesn’t seem that way – and I don’t think givers give with bad intentions – but it’s still a problem. Let me explain…

Effective Giving – opportunity costs

When economists talk about any activity – related to money or not – we always discuss the opportunity cost of the action. The opportunity cost of an action is simply what you give up doing in order to do that action. If you spend ten minutes reading this post, that’s ten minutes that you can’t spend reading a book or another website. We live in a world constrained by scarcity – limited money, limited time, limited resources. And, of course, the amount of money you can give to charity is limited.

If you chose to give a rupee to a beggar, the opportunity cost of that act of charity is all the things you could have done with that rupee. The opportunity cost includes all of the other charitable giving you might have done with the coin – other individuals and organizations that might need the help that that rupee can bring.

I believe that everyone has a duty to help the less fortunate. But you should not just give – you should give effectively.

Giving effectively does not mean simply giving to the poorest beggars you happen to run into during a day of travel in a developing country. While I think the most effective use of your charity dollars is in giving to particular organizations (more on that in a bit), I understand the wish many people have to donate directly to individuals – but those individuals should not be the ones you see begging on the street.

Photo credit: Ahron de Leeuw

Giving to Individuals – rent exhaustion and incentives

When I’ve asked friends and relatives why they give to beggars, I normally hear responses discussing guilt over seeing the poor, a desire to help a person (especially a child or mother) they saw in need, or a feeling that it was a small thing they could do that would mean much more to the needy person.

But in their desire to help out others, they fail to realize they’re doing exactly the opposite by giving to beggars.

First, consider the incentives giving to children beggars creates – particularly the charity that rich travelers in developing countries can (and often do) give. Leaving aside discussions of mafia gangs and the deliberate crippling of children (as I’m not 100% sure this occurs, and have no information on how common it might or might not be), if you give a significant amount of money to a begging child (say $1), you’ve just given his parents (or the group he works for) a strong incentive to keep him begging, rather than in school or, at least, learning some sort of trade.

Second, there is a strong problem of rent exhaustion in begging. Rent exhaustion (or rent seeking) is an economic concept regarding the way individuals or organizations will struggle with each other in order to get a “free lunch” – with the cost of the struggle eating away much of the gain from the “free lunch”. The classic example of this in the study of political economy comes from lobbies, where competing industries spend significant amounts of time and money in order to influence favorable legislature. It’s worth paying $3 million dollars in lobbying costs, after all, if it means you get a $3.2 million dollar contract.

The same problem occurs in begging activities. A person who could earn a dollar & a half a day in manual labor or a set of small businesses (as much of the urban poor does – see Banerjee & Duflo’s excellent and accessible paper “The Economic Lives of the Poor” for more information) might give up his work if he can earn two dollars a day begging from rich foreigners. Moreover, vicious fights – or extensive bribes – might be required to keep a prime begging spot (just as with lobbies & legislature), further eroding any “free lunch” a beggar receives from strangers.

So what are you to do, if you want to give to an individual, but shouldn’t give to a beggar?

Give to individuals who busy working and aren’t expecting anything from you. I first read of this idea in Tyler Cowen’s book, Discover Your Inner Economist (highly recommended), and the economic reasoning here is completely sound. As Banerjee & Duflo’s paper makes entirely too clear, the vast majority of the poor (those living on $2 or less per day) and the extremely poor (those living on less than $1 per day) work hard, often at multiple jobs while trying to send their children to school.

By giving in this manner – to people who clearly need help, but aren’t expecting it,  you aren’t requiring the poor to spend costly time begging in order to get help. No perverse incentives (make more money begging if you keep your kids out of school) have been created, and, since the working poor have not spent any time in seeking alms, there has been no cost to them in terms of rent-seeking. If you want, you can see this strategy of giving as a reward to hard-workers, but, in reality, this is the most effective strategy to give help to individuals you meet without requiring any sacrifice from them.

However – and this a big however – giving to individuals is probably not the best way you can help the poor in a developing country. Poverty in the developing world is the result of structural problems – lack of human and physical capital, poor governance, poor institutions, etc – that your marginal contribution can’t hope to overcome. I understand the desire for a human connection in giving, but I think that’s best left for volunteer work in your own local community.  If you wish to help the poor the BEST you can in a developing country you’re traveling through, wait until you’re home, then write a check to the best charity you can find. Check-writing is not as heart-warming as handing money or gifts to individuals you’ve met, true – but charity work should not be about you, the giver.

These children live in the slum at Manek Chowk.

Photo Credit: Meanest Indian

Give Well – measured & proven results

It’s likely that, if you donate to non-profit organizations, you’re doing it wrong. Or, at least, not as right as you could be (remember opportunity costs!). If there’s one thing my graduate course in development economics taught me, it’s that it is damn hard to effectively help the poor. Many of the programs we believe will do good – such as the Grameen Foundation’s Village Phone program or agriculture assistance – don’t actually achieve much when economists go back and try to track the results of intervention. Good-sounding development projects just don’t necessarily result in good outcomes.

It is critically important that charities’ programs and projects are evaluated carefully so that we can send money to programs that we know are providing effective help to those in need. Luckily for those of us who don’t have time to search out the charities that are tracking outcomes and proving their programs effective, there’s an organization out there that is already doing this work: GiveWell

GiveWell examines charities – you can submit your favorite charity if they haven’t evaluated it yet – and asks them the tough questions about how they’re measuring their projects’ impacts. Very few charities pass their inspection – but for the ones that do, you can be certain that your donation dollars will have a true impact on the poor. After examining their site in-depth, I remain extraordinarily impressed by their thoroughness and their commitment to looking for the most effective charities in the world

Perhaps the greatest acclaim I can give them is that all of my future donations will be going to GiveWell’s top-rated charities, such as the Stop TB Partnership and Pratham, a large, India-based organization that runs a wide variety of programs aiming to improve education for children in India. If you’re looking to help the poor as best you can in the future – effective giving that focuses on those in need, not you, as the giver – then, please, donate to one of GiveWell’s top charities as well.

Photo Credit: Raveesh Vyas

One of the things I’m looking forward to on our upcoming late winter trip to India (mid-February through early March) is being able to sample the regional food in the areas we’ll be traveling through. Aditya and I will be in India for about three weeks and in that time we’ll go through Delhi, Uttar Pradesh, Rajasthan, Maharashtra and West Bengal – so there will be lots of different types of local delicacies to try! A friend sent me this wonderful food map she found to help me prepare for this culinary delight (and to make me salivate), and I thought I’d share it with you all:

(Click to enlarge)

I’m not sure of the originial creator of this map, so if you know, please leave a note in the comments so I can credit approrpriately.

When we left off (oh so long ago) on the story of Aditya’s and my Hindu wedding in Part Six, I mentioned we had just finished performing the Laja Homa, in which puffed rice is offered as a sacrifice to the fire.

After the Laja Homa, Aditya and I sat down again to exchange our marriage vows. Now, um, this is a bit embarrassing but, you guys? I totally let down all Americans in this part of the ceremony. I kinda sorta gave the impression to all the guests that adult, well-educated Americans (as represented by yours truly) don’t know where the heart is located. You know, the whole “dumb Americans” stereotype in living color.

I can explain. Really.

You see, when I was saying my part of the vows, at one point, the priest asked me to lean over and place my hand on Aditya’s heart while saying them. I can’t exactly remember what I was promising at the time – although at one point in the ceremony, I think I promised to bear twelve sons, which is most certainly not happening. Anyways, I leaned over, but our sitting positions – and the stiffness of my sari – made it difficult to reach all the way across to the left side of Aditya’s chest.

And our sharp-eyed priest totally noticed I wasn’t quite at the right spot. And announced to the entire crowd of guests & family members that it appeared that the bride didn’t know where the heart was located.

Let my story be a warning to all couples getting married: it is always dangerous to hire a priest with a sense of humor who likes to tease.

So the crowd broke down in laughter, Aditya grinned, and I turned red and laughed too (’cause, yeah, it was pretty funny). Then I was flustered, and, um, went for the liver. Yup. Yup, I know. *shakes head* The crowd went wild again.

On the third try, I got it more or less right, and our priest took pity on me and let the ceremony continue:

Yeah, that was my big oops of the wedding. It’s still discussed at family get-togethers. Ah, good times…

So, we exchanged vows. They were the pretty standard Hindu vows – you can read examples here – but I couldn’t tell you exactly what they were at this date. Since we had an Arya Samaj wedding, all of our vows were first translated into English, so that Aditya and I could both understand what we were promising.

After the vows, we took the traditional seven steps around the fire – the Saptapadi.  Some Hindu traditions have seven circles around the fire, rather than seven steps, and the exact symbolism behind each step also differs from one version to the next. At our wedding, the priest recited the Arya Samaj meanings (which I really like) as we took each step:

• First Step is for Isha – nourishment – for fulfillment of the material needs of their family and for prosperity.
• Second Step is for Urje – strength – to develop physical, mental and spiritual strength.
• Third Step is for Rayasposha – honest wealth – to acquire wealth by diligent and righteous means and to spend it wisely.
• Fourth Step is Mayobhav – health – to develop harmonious relationship and be happy.
• Fifth Step is for Praja – progeny – to excel in raising strong and virtuous children.
• Sixth Step is for Ritu – good luck – for togetherness in all times and compatibility.
• Seventh Step is for Sakha – friendship – to be dependable and faithful to each other and life long companionship.

(I think those translations are correct.)

And thus, Aditya and I were married in the Hindu tradition.

After that, I was given the traditional symbols of marriage. First, Adtiya applied sindoor – i.e. vermilion powder – to the part in my hair. (I’ve blogged about wearing sindoor before here). Aditya has shaky hands, but managed to not get the red powder all over my forehead.

Then I was given a golden bangle, called a loha, which married women in Bengali families wear. Traditionally they’re made of iron, but today they’re more often covered in gold or completely made of gold, like mine.

While Aditya was putting the loha on, I noticed all of the younger guests were stealthily moving from where they had been previously standing to an area closer to the mandap (raised platform) where we were. It looked… suspicious. I wasn’t sure what was up, but the grins didn’t look promising.

Apparently, at the end of a Hindu wedding, the guests throw flower petals, not rice, on the happy couple. Except that flower buds can be thrown much more effectively than flower petals, and sting on arrival. And Aditya was due for some payback from previous weddings where he had pelted the bride and groom. Aditya’s played cricket with his cousins – he knew to duck. I didn’t:

I was just the poor, innocent bystander, brutally attacked with carnations.

And that was the end of our Hindu wedding ceremony. Afterwards, we had a sumptuous dinner with our guests, then headed back home for the after-party. Where I cleaned up a bit, removed the bindis from my face (with a bit of help), and then promptly fell asleep, still jet-lagged. But, luckily, not before I witnessed this:

The End.

The author of the postcard wrote in this morning to share the missing word, and translate her words:

I’m studying Hindi, so that when I meet your parents, I can tell them I love you.

(If you enjoy the postcard, I highly recommend checking back at the PostSecret blog every Sunday for the new posting of cards. There’s also a few PostSecret books – The Secret Lives of Men and Women: A PostSecret Book“> is probably my favorite one so far. The different styles of art and the naked honesty of the post cards can be quite stunning.)

Amusingly enough, I checked this after completing my Hindi studies for the morning. Today I studied using the website Live Mocha, and I highly recommend it. I’ve only gotten through the first lesson there, but I really enjoyed it – and found the lessons comparable to the Rosetta Stone ones, except FREE.

Photo Credit: wili_hybrid

Most of my American friends live in horror of being that American tourist when traveling abroad. We’ve all heard the horror stories of the rude American traveler who behaved in a completely culturally insensitive way while traveling, working, or living abroad. The person who tromps into a Japanese house wearing his shoes. Or complains loudly about the stupidity of grocery stores being closed in Germany on a Sunday.  No one wants to be that person, right? In an effort to not be that person, friends have told me they try their darnedest to follow that age old maxim: when in Rome, do as the Romans do – i.e. follow the customs of the land and culture that you find yourself in, even if they aren’t your customs. Nothing wrong with trying to be respectful in all ways possible of other cultures, right?

Well, no – there are some things wrong with that old rule about following other culture’s customs as much as possible. My main complaint with the “when in Rome” adage is that it simplifies a topic that defies simplification. Tossing the rule out in a conversation as a simple, true fact (as happened recently in the comments section at another blog that inspired this post) strikes me as similar to slapping a bandage on what is, in fact, a thorny issue. Sometimes it’s a good idea to follow the customs and traditions of another society while you’re visiting (or living in) it. But sometimes it can be a really bad idea…

The Three Key Considerations of Cultural Customs

When you’re faced with a differing tradition, custom, or habit of a culture you’re interacting with or a country that you’re traveling through/living in, the main decision you have, of course, is whether you want to follow this different custom, stick to your own ways, or try to chart some sort of middle path. In making this decision, I think there are three main considerations to take into account:

1. Manners - Is this a simple rule of behavior that the people of this country find polite? Will behaving in my normal manner seem rude? Is this just one of those intercultural quirks that I should just follow without bothering my head about it?
2. Practical – What will happen to me if I don’t follow this custom? What about if I do? Will my life or the life of others around be easier? Better?
3. Ethics – Is this custom ethical according to my beliefs? Would I be violating my ethics to follow the custom – or would it be wrong of me to not follow it, given the particular facts of the culture/country I find myself in?

Let’s tackle those one at a time, hmmm?

Etiquette Considerations – or, did you just accidentally insult someone?

Every country has those little rules that you just gotta learn before traveling there – at least if you don’t want to be unintentionally impolite. In Germany you’re suppose to keep both hands on the table -or otherwise in sight – to be polite. Why? Because that’s the rule. End of story. In the US pointing at something with your middle finger alone is likely to be taken as an insult – in other countries pointing at all is rude.

These little rules – while occasionally difficult to remember – are easy enough to follow. If a cultural custom falls simply into this category, there’s really not much to say: just try to remember the custom, and follow the traditions of the land while you’re there. Often times these customs are the intercultural quirks I’ve blogged about previously – things that really aren’t worth worrying about. In this case, I’m all for the “go with the flow” and “when in Rome” rules of thumb. If it’s a behavior that you need to perform, just do it and roll on with your life. If it’s a cultural custom you observe others doing, smile, remember that that’s half of the fun of seeing a new place, and roll on.

Unfortunately, often you’ll be told or read that a certain behavior is “polite”, but there’s more to the story than just that. Very few people want to see you chew your food – that’s why many cultures have a rule about politely shutting your mouth while you chew.  It just doesn’t look attractive. However, many cultures also have rules about what is acceptable or “polite” dress – especially for women – and somehow, I don’t think “it just doesn’t look attractive” is the reasoning going into that rule.

Generally speaking, customs which require different behavior from different sorts of people – men vs. women, young vs. old, rich vs. poor, low caste vs. high caste – are not just your simple old rules of etiquette. There’s something deeper – often something related to status or power – going on there, and this will have practical and ethical considerations.

A good example of this is the cultural tradition throughout much of South Asia (not all, certainly!) where men and women are expected to socialize separately – women in the kitchen, typically, and men in living room or elsewhere. Often, this is presented just as the “typical” thing – and it’d just be weird or rude to behave otherwise. While I’ve never seen this behavior (and would not follow it, whether in India or elsewhere), a blogger friend of mine, Gori Wife, has two posts here and here about her experiences dealing with it. Another example which came up in the original blog post I read is the drinking of alcohol by women in mixed company, particularly when there are older generations around.

Practical Considerations – or what’s the fallout of your behavior?

In choosing whether to follow a particular custom, it’s always important to think about what the effects will be whichever way you choose. Those of us in intercultural relationships run across this by the simple fact of being in an intercultural relationship – if you don’t think your intercultural relationship affects others, you’re hiding your head in the sand.

The “fallout” can be big or small – depending on the custom you’re choosing to follow or flout and the expectations of those around you. Suppose you try to follow the South Asian custom of eating with your hands – the fallout might simply be a small grin of pleasure from your dining partners and a few drops of curry on your lap. Failing to follow the custom might only mean a short moment of embarrassment when you ask for a fork.

To return to our example of the sexes socializing separately, it’s clear that, if you’re a woman (or man) in this situation, either the choice to follow the custom or not will have significant practical impacts. Either way, your social experience – who you talk with, what you do, when you eat, even – will be different. If you choose to follow the custom, despite being from another country, you may gain social “credit” if your behavior is unexpected, but welcome. If you don’t follow the custom, you may make others uncomfortable with your rudeness, and generate gossip or ill-will. Harsh, perhaps, but it’s silly to pretend otherwise. Or it may be that, while it is expected that natives adhere to the custom, foreigners get a free pass to behave as they’re used to – it all depends on the particular group of people you’re socializing with.

How much you care about these other people think of you, of course, is also a variable to consider when thinking of the practical aspects of following a cultural custom. As I’ve said several times before, I truly believe that those who would judge you harshly for infractions of unfamiliar traditions are not worth your concern. Of course, plenty of people think differently on this matter – this is something you’ve got to decide for yourself and your particular lifestyle.

Another example of the practical considerations that foreign females (and men, to a lesser extent) in India must consider is how modestly to dress in public. You may not give two hoots about what a stranger on a street in a foreign country thinks of you – but your experience and the attention you get from those strangers will most certainly be different depending on what you wear.

Ethical Considerations – Or, is this universally wrong?

This should be straightforward, right? Don’t follow or otherwise support other countries’ customs if you find them ethically wrong. When in (ancient) Rome, don’t have slaves like the Romans did. Or, for a more modern example, don’t eat that delicacy of dog meat you were offered if you think it’s immoral to eat man’s best friend. Yes, refusing the delicacy might be rude, and it might have practical considerations when your hosts get upset at your impoliteness, but it’s better to behave ethically. After all, it’s not like any of us are cultural relativists here. (Right? Right?)

Unfortunately, most cases aren’t that clear cut. Most Americans would consider it extremely unethical for children to work in factories instead of staying in school – but what other choices do an absolutely poor family (pdf) have in a developing country with limited social services? Do you refuse to do business with a company that employees child labor on that basis while visiting a developing country, as you might in your home country? I wouldn’t think that the ethical choice in India, while I absolutely would consider it the correct choice for a U.S.-based factory.

Or, consider the socializing example again: are there moral implications for going along with a custom of gender separation in socializing that you wouldn’t follow in your own country? As a someone who strongly believes in parity between men and women, I do not believe that the people should, in any way, be required to separate on the basis of gender if they don’t want to. (If all the gals want to chit chat in the kitchen, that’s a different thing). Generally, I believe that it’s important to push for a culture in every country that tolerates human variation and individuality. In other words, I’m a cultural libertarian.  Because of my personal ethical beliefs, I don’t believe it’s generally right to follow cultural customs that require separate behavior from men and women. So I socialize with everyone at parties, and I drink alcohol when it’s available and sounds like a good idea – in any country or culture. (And I’ll gladly argue with anyone on these issues at said parties.)

Of course, practical considerations – and even etiquette – still must be balanced with ethical concerns. For instance, I still dress modestly in public in India, even though I would occasionally prefer to dress more along the standards I’m accustomed to here in the U.S. Why? Because, frankly, it’s simply not worth the hassle for me, especially given the tiny possible marginal effect I might have in changing cultural mores that require women to dress more modestly than men. Sometimes, it just ain’t worth it to try to fight the “good fight” at all times, in all places – especially when you’re experiencing a new culture.  Just as you need to balance cultures within an intercultural relationship, you need to balance the various considerations of cultural customs in a broader intercultural context.

Good Manners Across Cultures

“When in Rome, Do As the Romans Do” is a poor phrase to follow when operating in a foreign country or culture. It may help in smoothing over the simpler cultural rules of etiquette, but it fails on the bigger, deeper, and broader facets of cultural traditions or customs. So what is a good rule? I like Emily Page’s advice here:

Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter which fork you use.

It’s inevitable that you’ll make a mistake when experiencing a new culture, and do something considered rude or impolite. Indeed, even many months or years after you first become familiar with a rule of etiquette, it’s likely that you’ll be making a mistake or two. (I still blush remembering the time I used an excessively formal version of “you” eight months into my stay in German.) And if you chose to flout a cultural custom because of ethical or practical concerns, you may end up looking incredibly rude.  It’s okay.

As Emily Post reminds us, manners are, first and foremost, about consideration of others’ feelings. If you’re trying your best to be polite, to take into consideration the feelings of those around you, while also sticking to your ethical principles, then no one who has manners themselves should fault you. (And if they do, well, you’ve already heard my opinion on how much you should care.)

The biggest failing of that American tourist is not that he didn’t bother to read up on the customs of the country, nor that he doesn’t consider the practical effects of his actions, nor even that he goes around, demanding that the ethical realities of another country meet his simplistic, black & white view of right and wrong – it’s just an unwillingness to recognize the simple truth that Post points out.

Ah, Diwali. Festival of lights. A celebration of good triumphing over evil. A time to bemuse your boss and win free dessert from your local Indian buffet. …right?

As I’ve mentioned previously, I happen to work in a very diverse office – and with a recent switch in teams, I now report to a South Indian manager. He’s a great boss, but, occasionally, well, I can’t help myself – I’ll mention a Hindu tradition or a Bollywood film just to see his reaction. You see, despite the fact that he knows I’m married to an Indian, he’s always so surprised when I show any knowledge of Indian culture. Shocked, almost.

So, of course, to celebrate Diwali this year I decided to wear a sari to work.

To be more specific, a female Indian coworker and I  coerced convinced the junior staff on our team to wear Indian dress to the office on Friday. My coworker had one sari from a family wedding to wear, and I loaned out saris and kurtas to everyone else. Between the two of us, we were able to get everyone wrapped up, pinned up, and decked out in bangles before our boss arrived. The look on his face was, let us say, well worth the trouble.

I'm on the right

Everyone looked pretty great in their saris, no?

For lunch, the group went out to the closest Indian buffet, Jaipur, where we snapped the photograph above. The staff there was also quite surprised seeing their regular customers arrive in saris and kurtas – surprised & appreciative.  Despite the fact that it was a buffet lunch, they brought out a surprise dish of Indian desserts just for our group at the end of our meal:

It was clear that the kitchen had taken some time to create the dish, which featured Gajar Ka Halwa, Ras Gulla, and Gulab Jamun with a garnish of shredded coconut and cherries. Like every other Indian dessert I have had, it was delicious, if extraordinarily sweet. After lunch we all shuffled back to the office before falling into the typical post-Jaipur sugar coma.

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For anyone wondering, on Diwali proper (i.e. Saturday), Aditya, myself, and the Indian coworker pictured above woke up crazy early to get to a local Hindu temple in time for the morning aarti. It was very quiet there – I think the rain and near-freezing temperatures kept everyone else away. Afterwards we retreated from the cold to Starbucks for breakfast, and then, in the spirit of combining American holiday consumerism with a Diwali custom, we went shopping for some new clothes. And that was how the Gori Girl household celebrated Diwali this year.

(Sunday we returned to my roots, and celebrated an American football Sunday with Vietnamese seafood hotpot and German boardgames at a friend’s house. All in all, a pretty awesome weekend.)

Aditya: “Well, it’s a Sunday…”

Me: “No, it’s some Hindu holiday… Ganesh Chaturthi, I think?”

Aditya: “I have no idea.”

Maa: “Oh, maybe. I haven’t been keeping track of the dates. Hmm.”

So – Happy Ganesh Chaturathi to the Hindus among us, Ramadan Mubarak to any Muslims out there (I sent this preemptive apology ecard to my Bangladeshi coworker), and I hope the rest of you all had a great weekend.

In other news, Aditya and I are on vacation in California, traveling with his family. It’s the first time his siblings, parents, and himself have all been together in over seven years, so there’s plenty of catching up to do. Blogging will be sporadic for the next couple of weeks, but I hope to return after Labor Day with plenty of stories (and a new blog design!).