Gori Girl

He’s soooo Indian!

In this guest post, NeoKalypso of Doings & Undoings writes about her understanding of “Indian-ness.”

“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.

Indian Wedding Story: Part Two

Part one of this Indian wedding story can be found here.

The wedding ceremony took place in the evening, so Aditya and I were pretty free to do what we’d like the morning of the big day. His family had been planning the event all along – all we did was show up – so if there had there been any last minute catering disasters, for instance they were primed to take care of them. I was still a little jetlagged when I rolled out of bed, but figuring out how to operate the bucket-based showering system woke me up.

When I emerged dripping from the bathroom, Maa politely inquired whether I’d like to wear a sari, a salvar kameez, or whatever clothes I’d brought with me from the US. Now, as I’d never been to India before (and my inlaws refuse to purchase the high priced imported Indian clothes in the US), this was going to be my first time wearing Indian clothes. I decided to go all out, and start with a sari.

Indian Wedding Story: Part One

I’ve mentioned previously that Aditya and I recently had our Hindu wedding ceremony in India, and I’ve been meaning to write a post or two (or a hundred) about my experiences in India. And then a reader mentioned that she liked the pictures of the wedding that are sprinkled around the GoriGirl site, and would be interested in seeing more of them. So I thought I’d combine these two ideas and post a couple of pictures each day, working through the story chronologically. We’ll start off with our arrival in Calcutta (also known as Kolkata – but I’ll go with my inlaw’s usage), where the wedding took place.

Meeting the Desi Parents

Few things fill me with as much dread as meeting my partner’s parents.

First off, I’m socially awkward by nature – at least when meeting new people. I never know how to make small talk, or when good eye contact crosses the line into weird staring, or if my posture and facial expressions are saying “possibly mentally deranged” rather than “cool and confident “.

Then there’s the fact that I’m meeting the parents. While I’m not exactly a “people pleaser”, I do think it’s important to have a good rapport with the parents of your significant other, at least if he or she is close to them (and Aditya is). If the relationship continues then they’re going to be a part of your life forever, and well, family matters, you know? And first impressions matter too.

Finally, with Aditya’s parents I had the whole “different culture” thing to worry about too. All of the social rules and interpersonal cues – which I only have a passing knowledge of, anyways – go swishing out the window when you’re faced with a new culture. Not only could I completely mess up, I could completely mess up and not even know what I did wrong.

Despite this, my initial meetings with Aditya’s parents – first Maa, then Baba – ended up going quite well. While this may be more due to their innate awesomeness than any actions of mine, I hope my story can help out some of you who are struggling with the same sort of worries I had had. Next post I’ll be focusing on some of the more “theoretical” aspects of meeting the parents, which will greatly extend some of the points I bring up here, so be sure to tune in for that too.

Gori Girl: Now Blogging from the Desi Suburbs

For the sixth year running, Aditya and I have moved our junk to a new home. Yes, you read that right: we’ve moved (together or both individually) every year for the past six years. It’s not that I like moving; it’s just a combination of being a student, having an urge to see the world, and a peculiar, magical moving amnesia that makes me forget every year how traumatic moving really is. I’ll spare you the gory details, but beyond the typical panicked late night packing, this move has included our utilities being shut off at the new house, at least three separate lockouts, sleeping on hardwood floors, and a hail storm.

In an attempt to stay sane (and nourished) through this process, Aditya, an Indian friend, and I went to the mall near the new place this weekend for food and a bit of light goofing off between hauling boxes. And guess what? We’ve accidentally moved to the Desi suburbs. About every fourth group we saw wandering the mall was sub-Continental, and I’d guess that at least a third of the mall population was Asian. It’s like we’re back in California!

Tomorrow I’ll get a post up about the first few times I met Aditya’s parents, and I’ll be blogging regularly now that the worst of the moving trauma is over.

Homecooked Indian Doesn’t Happen Much Here

A reader, Veronica, sent in the following question a couple of days ago:

My boyfriend is from Gondia and I wanted to learn to cook some food from that area of India. What kind of Indian food do you cook for your husband?

Heh, well, I guess it’s confession time here on Gori Girl: I can’t remember the last time I cooked real Indian food. Maggi? Sure. Ginger tea? It’s been known to happen. TastyBite or other yummy precooked packaged Indian meals? We’ve got a pantry full of ‘em. And we’ve got a kabob takeout place on speed dial.

But I don’t ever cook a full meal of real Indian food. I mean, I have in the past, but it’s not a regular thing at all. There’s a simple enough explanation for this – I’ve just never learned how to cook Indian food. When I grew up in California I had a lot of Chinese and Taiwanese friends and neighbors, so I can make a fair number of Chinese dishes. I’ve managed to pick up a few things from my Mexican, Japanese, and Korean relatives (yup, it’s a rainbow of colors at family reunions). But until I met Aditya I wasn’t close friends with anyone who could cook Indian food. Of course, given his limited repertoire in the kitchen, I still didn’t know anyone who could cook (much) Indian food after I met him either.

Nowadays, I mostly limit myself to adding Indian spices to change the taste of some of the dishes I already cook. Turmeric powder gets tossed into the stirfry, or garam masala is added to the sausage stew after it’s done. Actually, it’s a bit of a hazard for our friends who dine at our house without knowing this habit of mine – they’ll bite into the chicken pot pie, only to discover there’s a bunch of chicken curry masala in the sauce.

While this response might be a superficial answer to Veronica’s question (no Indian food is cooked for poor Aditya), it isn’t a particularly helpful answer for people looking to make some familiar food for their partners. This question actually comes at a particularly good time, as I’ve been thinking about trying my hand at real Indian cooking. So – how can you learn to cook Indian (or other, new-to-you) food? Let’s go through the difference resources available:

I’m a Rock Star in India!

Read through to see a video with excited schoolchildren…

India’s Delicious Products – Or, Why Can’t We Get That Here?

Possibly the best thing about being in an intercultural relationship, at least for the curious mind, is the in-depth, nitty-gritty exposure you get to a different group’s culture. Be prepared for the flood of new customs, food, clothes, vocabulary, entertainment and so forth that’ll be coming your way. The only thing I can compare it to is living in a foreign country with a roommate or family from that country – of course, then you’re still in an intercultural relationship, just not a romantic one.

While a number of problems can arise from having two or more cultures operating in the same house, today’s focus is on the unadulterated good things that come from sharing a culture. The things that will remain perfect in my mind forever. Even if Aditya were to run off the squirrel that hangs out near the bedroom window (they were eying each other this morning) and break my heart, or declare a hatred for IKEA (and break my heart), I will appreciate our time together because of these three things:

My Dainty Swastikas

Someone gave me a pair of swastikas as a wedding gift.

They were quite beautiful: delicate, pure gold swastika earrings, with subtle etchings along the front and edges. I wish I had taken a picture of them – and of my husband’s face when he opened the gift. I still don’t know who the giver was, but I suspect it was an older Auntie with superb taste and very few NRI relatives.

Indian Survial Guide: How to Eat Indian Food (Part I)

During their travels in India, my uncle and mom really enjoyed eating with their hands, as you can see from the photo above. This is the traditional way of eating in India… but not all Indians are perfectly traditional. If you look closely at my husband, Aditya, pictured on the right, you’ll notice he has a fork on his plate, since he doesn’t care to eat rice with his hands. I, too, have a fork – you can just see it spearing some delicious chicken in the far right of the photo. I’m using a fork because when I try to eat rice with my hands, I end up with some on my lap, down my blouse, and somehow in my hair – it’s just not pretty.

The photo of my family chowing down demonstrates the two main things you need to know about eating Indian food: it’s traditionally done with your hands (mostly the right hand actually – more on that in a bit) AND it’s okay to not be traditional. If you’re uncomfortable eating with your hands, then don’t. No one will look down on you, or think less of you if you ask for silverware.

However, for those of you interested adventuring outside of Western-style table manners, I have a few hard-learned tips and tricks to help you chow down politely.

Christmas Wedding Gifts

Indians rock at the wedding gift-giving thing. In fact, I think the Indian version of giving wedding presents is far superior to the typical American way. This belief of mine is based on the one Indian wedding I’ve attended – my own – so it’s not exactly statistically sound. But I think my experience is enlightening, nonetheless, and I’m told it’s fairly typical.

Last Christmas, exactly a year and four days after our civil ceremony in the US, Aditya and I had our Hindu wedding in India. The date was picked for a combination of reasons: it was auspicious according to the astrologer Maa (Aditya’s mother) consulted; the weather in Calcutta would be near perfect for anyone not from Calcutta; and, most importantly, the groom and I could get time off of our jobs in D.C. to fly halfway around the world.

Of course, the timing also meant that I couldn’t spend the holidays with my culturally-Christian family in California, exchanging gift cards (Best Buy for Aditya, Borders for me), and watching various younger cousins, nieces, and nephews play with the cardboard boxes their toys came in. Still, I consented to go to India. We get out to the West Coast every season anyways, and I was told there’d be presents for me in India. (Sure, it also meant I could finally meet Aditya’s sister and his extended family, perform important Hindu marriage rites, see his homeland, etc, etc, whatever – today’s focus is on presents.)

Shall I start with the reasons why Indian wedding gifts are excellent?