Gori Girl

Indian Wedding Story: Part Four

This is Part Four 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 last left off on the story of our wedding in India (see part three), I had just arrived, as the picture above shows.

The lovely lady trailing behind me is a friend of the family (and Aditya’s childhood math tutor), who’d been helping me with all the preparations – it was like she was an older aunt of mine for the day. There were flowers ALL OVER the place as I arrived – from where the car dropped me off to the second floor hall where the ceremony would be, I was surrounded by sheets of flowers, while walking under flower arches (spelling Aditya’s and my names in flowers) and over a red carpet, just like you see at movie premiers. Of course, the only person who took pictures of this wonder was my uncle, who, of course, has not yet gotten around to sending me his photos.

Why is the Goat Wearing a Sweater? Six Unspectacular Quirks Meme

I was recently tagged by Blue of the blog bluelightful, bluelicious, bluelovely to complete a meme on “six unspectacular quirks.” I was a bit hesitant to do the meme, at first, ’cause I figured I’d already done the whole “personal life” update post, and, really, there’s only so many times a week I can talk just about myself before I start making Aditya’s life miserable with a swelled head. “Where’s my tea & biscuits? I need caffeine to post. This is important, Aditya. I’ve been tagged!”

Then I thought about it a bit more, and realized that if I couldn’t come up with six intercultural-type quirks about myself, then all those people who’ve talked about having me committed to an insane asylum for being crazy (I prefer “quirky,” thank you) would be proven wrong. And I’d hate to make so many friends, relatives, and coworkers look bad, so I guess it’s time to roll up my sleeves and show just how quirky in a interculturally-relevant-but-not-culturally-insensitive way I can be. Of course, the qualifier of “unspectacular” means you all will be be missing the good stuff…

Change Happens: Updates From Our Cross-Cultural Household

Gori Girl (the blog) isn’t meant to be just a personal site – while I talk about my life and marriage a fair amount here, the point isn’t to just blab to the interweb about my life (not that I don’t enjoy blogs that do) , but instead to add something of value to yours. However, there’s been a few shakeups in Aditya’s and my lives recently – some of which has & will affect this blog – so I thought I’d just write a short update post, as well as write about a couple new features coming up in the sidebars. So consider this a metablog post, if you will.

Indian Wedding Story: Part Three

This is Part Three of a continuing series on my Indian wedding adventure. If you’re new to Gori Girl, try checking out Part One and Part Two.

Lunchtime! Tomorrow the real wedding pictures start, but today was super hectic, so you’ll be getting the pictures from the lunch before the big night, and the story of bridal preparation and nerves.

After our pre-lunch siesta, everyone returned to the community center where the wedding ceremony would be held for lunch. All I can say is yum – the caterers were very, very good!

Why the Gori of Gori Girl?

There’s been some talk in the comments about the word gori, which, given the blog name, is probably a term you’ll hear thrown around here from time to time. So I thought I’d explain what it means, some of the connotations it can carry, and why I chose it for the name of this blog – as well as my pen name.

What does gori mean?

The following was derived from Aditya’s lengthy comments on the etymology of the word gori – be thankful that I’m sparing you all of the tangential diatribes that developed during our conversation.

Gori is a Hindi adjective that literally means “fair” or “light-complexioned”. The i at the end of the word is a feminine conjugation, so gori is often used as a noun, with the subject being understood without explicit reference. In this slightly looser interpretation of the word, gori can mean “pale female”, “fair woman”, or even “white girl”. The masculine version of gori is gora, which can be translated as white man. Since I’m awfully pale-skinned, at least in the winter, gori can be rightly used as an adjective to describe me, or as a noun in reference me.

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.

Do the Needful and Learn the Language, Gori!

I can handle Hinglish – the Indian version of Spanglish – without a problem. I’ve got all that slang down. I’m comfortable with about any accent you can throw at me – a neeful thing indeed when your main social interactions are with a bunch of international grad students and professors who are more comfortable with equations than English. And you’d be surprised at how well I can parse together body language, tone, and the occasional English word in order to understand the conversation as a whole. Unfortunately, these skills, impressive though they might be, don’t cut it when what you really need to do is buckle down and learn a foreign language. This is something I suck at.

Yesterday I discussed all the great reasons you ought to be studying the native language of your partner. Today I’m focusing on why I haven’t yet achieved fluency in Aditya’s native language, Bengali, despite all those great reasons – and what I’m doing about it.

I’m a Rock Star in India!

Read through to see a video with excited schoolchildren…

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.

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?