Gori Girl

Indian Wedding Story – Part Seven

This is Part Seven - the last of a continuing series on my Indian wedding adventure. If you’re new to Gori Girl, try checking out Part One, where the story starts.

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.

Meeting Me and Aditya – You In?

Without doubt this blog has been far more successful than I ever imagined it could be when I started it. Today, just a little over 18 months since I started writing at Gori Girl, we passed the mark of over two thousand comments written here by individuals other than Aditya & I. Two thousand comments, most of which have been detailed, thoughtful contributions to the post I’ve written. I hope you guys understand how thankful I am for your participation here – the discussions and, yes, disagreements have contributed much to my thoughts on things intercultural and India.

Appropriately enough, a post by Normis in the forums yesterday reminded me that we never got around to holding a “Gori Girl” meet-up for everyone in the Mid-Atlantic region this past summer. (What can I say? Summer is always a busy time for us.) So – who’s interested in hanging out somewhere in the DC or NoVA region? I promise you can mock my Hindi pronunciation. More details below the fold.

An Office Diwali Celebration

Ah, Diwali. Fesitval 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.

The Hindi Project

The tickets have been purchased. We’re headed to India for a three week vacation/business trip in February and March of next year. And man, does my Hindi suck. Longtime readers may be scratching their head, thinking they’ve heard this song & dance about learning an Indian language from me before. They’d be absolutely, totally correct. Last year, however, I was trying to learn Bengali. And I have – some. Not much; mainly, I can play cards in Bengali. And curse. (Sometimes I get to do both at once!) This year it’s all about the Hindi. With a trip to Delhi and North India in sight, Aditya and I have both agreed that I need to focus more on learning Hindi. There’s the functional aspects to knowing enough to get around town and communicate when Aditya isn’t right at my side. Then there’s the social aspect of extended family, friends, and (in my case) Delhi coworkers. At our Indian wedding two years ago I could get away with saying “a little” in the appropriate language when asked if I knew either Hindi or Bengali. Guests and family loved it then, but I suspect the joke does not age well.

My Immigrant Husband Is Now Free to Divorce Me!

A phone conversation from last night:

Aditya: Hey, guess what came in the mail today?

GG, at the office, as always: How are you home already? Don’t you work? … And, yeah, so what came in the mail?

Aditya: News from the Department of Homeland Security.

Indian Wedding Story, Part Six

This is Part Six of a continuing series on my Indian wedding adventure. If you’re new to Gori Girl, try checking out Part One, where the story starts.

After we started the fire (think Agni Pradipan, not Billy Joel), I fed Aditya some pre-made Laddu, which is a common Indian sweet used in pujas and other ceremonies. After this Aditya stood up and promised to provide for me for the rest of my life, so, really, I didn’t begrudge him the sweet. (Also: it was way too hot to do much but sweat beside that fire. Doesn’t look like it? Read on.)

Intercultural Interviews: Indian Parents’ Perspective (Part Two)

This is the second part of the interview I held with my husband Aditya’s parents (you can find Part One here). This part starts off with an interlude on Maa and Baba’s first meeting for their “semi-arranged” marriage, then continues on the topic of their first impressions of me. I finally got them to discuss some negatives: what they find difficult in having a non-Indian daughter-in-law and my (apparently) one fault. We also discussed some of the things they dislike about general American culture (as it relates to interpersonal relationships), and ended with some advice Maa and Baba have for intercultural couples, both generally and for those having some difficulty with Indian in-laws.

Intercultural Interviews: Indian Parents’ Perspective (Part One)

I sat down with Aditya’s parents, Maa and Baba, a few nights ago with a list of eight questions to find out their views on American culture and intercultural relationships… and we ended up talking for over an hour, thus necessitating a Part One and a Part Two. Today’s portion focuses on the early days: their worries on sending their youngest son, Aditya, to a foreign country, thoughts on American culture, dating, and their first interactions with me.

A Day in Our Lives – With Indian Inlaws

In a short few days the only hope I’ll have in the blearly mornings is that it might just be Bagel Monday in the office. When I crawl out of my sleep coma, you see, sophisticated details like which day of the week it is are completely beyond me – any day could be Bagel Monday. My primitave mind is only concerned with two things: getting our dogs, Kajol & Panda to shut up and stop wrestling on my larynx and/or bladder, and what sustenance awaits me that might be a good enough incentive to get out of bed.

This past month, though, Bagel Monday has diminished in significance, and glorious 20 Ounces of Ginger Tea Everyday (With Biscuits!) has replaced it as my main morning motivator.

I love it when my in-laws are staying with us.

Note that I didn’t say visiting us – that would imply that Aditya’s parents are house guests while they’re here, while, as Baba says, it’s their home too. Granted, our daily life changes some when Maa and Baba are here in Washington DC, the morning tea being just one example, but the changes are more minor than many people who hear my in-laws are in-town would expect. Since we’re coming to the close of Maa & Baba’s second extended stay out here (they were here last year in the late summer, and will be visiting once more this year), I thought that it’d be good time to write about the “typical day” in our household while Aditya’s parents are here.

Wearing Sindoor as a White Woman

Aditya loves, loves, loves it when I wear sindoor. For him it is the epitome of beauty. (There’s also probably an element of husbandly pride and maybe something oedipal going on, but, hey, you can’t win them all.) When I reach over to open to the medicine cabinet while brushing my teeth in the mornings, his face lights up in the hope that I’m grabbing out my container of vermilion powder:

“Are you going to wear sindoor today?” You should! – you look so beautiful when you wear it!”

And, almost always, I mumble something that amounts to “no, not today.”