Gori Girl

Our Diwali 2010

We had a simple, festive Diwali this year. After getting home from work, Aditya and I immediately set about following a Bengali family tradition. Fourteen candles (diya in Hindi, prodip in Bengali) were lit in honor of fourteen ancestors – seven from your mother’s side, and seven from your father’s side – while we each took a moment to silently think over the things that our families have done for us to help us be the people we are today. After a few moments of prayer and appreciation of the glow of the candles inside, we took them outside so that the rest of our neighborhood could enjoy their light as well.

Goris Come Clean… in the Mid-Day Mumbai

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.

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.”

Indian Wedding Story, Part Five

This is Part Five 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 I left off on the story of my Arya Samaj wedding to Aditya (see part four here), we had just exchanged garlands at the start of our wedding ceremony. Heavy, massive garlands that took my original concept of flower necklaces – Hawaiin leis – and kicked it up a notch or ten.

Intercultural Marriage Fluff

I normally avoid memes, but, hey, dooce did this one. And who doesn’t love a bit of relationship fluff, especially mid-week when the weekend still seems so far off? I’d love to hear all of yours as well – I’m not “tagging” anyone, but after you finish reading, do write up your own answering all or some of the questions. If you have your own blog, link back here for a trackback or comment with a link so I (and everyone else) can find ‘em. And if you don’t have your own blog feel free to add yours in the comments.

ESL Tutoring – or How We Met

I’ve never heard the story behind this photograph, although I know it was taken Aditya’s first year of college, and I’m willing to guess that the crossdressing costume was somehow part of the International Student Association’s annual Bazaar. Oh, how his past comes back to haunt him***

Aditya’s a year older than me, so depending on when this picture was taken I was either finishing up my last semester of high school (I graduated a semester early) or already working in Germany as an Au-Pair. Before leaving for Germany I went through the college application rigmarole, and ended up choosing the same small midwestern liberal arts college that Aditya was crossdressing studying at. Yes, you guessed it – we met in college.

Well, sort of.

A Mixed Pair

It was really early in the morning, you see, when the dogs informed us that they needed to go out. My turn to let them out, unfortunately, but afterwards the three of us agreed the hike back upstairs was too long, so we settled on the couch for a nap until the sun was properly up. Well, Kajol – a total snugglebunny – and I settled on the couch, and Panda slept on the cool floor next to us.

Panda Bear is the latest addition to our family, and, as an Alaskan Malamute, he tends to be a bit too warm to snuggle comfortably for that long indoors. He’s about two and a half years old, and another rescue dog – poor pup spent most of his life tied in a field with grass so high he couldn’t see out of it before Animal Cruelty rescued him. When he came to us he was twenty pounds underweight and didn’t know what a treat was or how to play with another dog. He’s still a bit of a failure with treats – he’s excited to get one, but just drops it afterwards for Kajol to eat. Kajol, however, has taught him to play like a champion at the only game she knows: wrestling. We often look out onto the deck to see Kajol’s head disappearing into Panda’s massive jaw, or him just calmly sitting on Kajol while she struggles to get free.

They’re a well-matched pair, despite being from such different breeds – and I suppose there’s a semi-corny lesson in there for all of us in an intercultural relationship, or, really, any mixed relationship where looks or personalities or abilities differ.

Wait… I Thought This Was MY House!

Aditya and I have both been pulling long hours at work during the past couple of weeks. Frankly, it’s rare that we both get home before the night sets in. While we both have careers that have require long hours (my company’s motto: “the hours here are flexible; you can come in as early as you want, and leave as late as you want”), recent project disasters have stretched our workdays beyond our version of normal. This is particularly unfortunate as Aditya’s parents, Maa & Baba, are currently visiting us from India.

Of course, they are here for two months, so it’s not as if we won’t end up having plenty of family time together – but I do wish they didn’t have to spend so much time at our house by themselves. I worry about them getting bored; even Kajol, the energizer puppy, can only go for so many walks. I fret about all the interesting monuments and historic sites we aren’t seeing in the evenings for lack of energy and sunlight. And I’m genuinely distraught that, at some point, they might break The System while we’re away at the office.

The In-Laws Have Landed!

Among the suitcases (!) full of gifts, they brought me two large packages of Coffy Bite.

This is our bedside table, as of three minutes ago.

… I daren’t show you the carnage in the trash bin by the computer desk.

(Don’t worry – I will be posting LOTS more later – and regularly. However, I spent 13 hours at the office today, putting out metaphorical fires, and my brain is a little numb.)

Our German Shepherd/Beagle Puppy: Kajol

Yesterday Aditya and I welcomed the newest member of the family, Kajol, to our home. She’s a seven-month old bundle of happy energy, as you can see from the blur that is her tail in the picture below. While her German Shepherd breeding is very clear from her coloring, the beagle is just a best guess, given her small size, facial features, and desire to sniff out everything while on walks – including things like bumblebees. Puppies just don’t have any sense, do they?

Confluence on the Roads: Thoughts about American, Indian, and German Traffic

Yesterday Aditya and I made the trek to the holy queen of all box stores, IKEA. It was the first day of the Preview Summer Sale, so of course we were there, battle plan mapped out, lists made, room measurements at hand, and stomaches ready for meatballs. The plan was that I would arrive mid-afternoon with the U-Haul rental van (the better to transport our loot – we take IKEA seriously in this household), and Aditya would come directly from the office once he was off work at 7. Once there, my orders were to make one reconnaissance sweep, then head to the ground floor to secure the bed we’ve been trying to purchase for the past year. Yes, we’ve been sleeping with a mattress on the floor for a year rather than give up on our dream cheapo bed just because of little things like it always being out of stock.

We plan, and God laughs. I think it was when the third firetruck passed me, sirens blaring, and traffic ground to a complete standstill that I realized I would not be reaching IKEA at 1300 hours. There I sat, stalled on the highway, surveying the baking asphalt meadows around. To pass the time, I started observing the cooperation of the other drivers in responding to the emergency vehicles and the on-going traffic jam, and thinking about how other car cultures I’m familiar with cooperate in their own ways.