Gori Girl

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’s a really bad idea.

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 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.

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.

Me: “Isn’t today a holiday?”

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.”

Well, here’s a first for this blog – a giveaway! I was recently contacted by the publishers of Your Intercultural Marriage: A Guide to a Healthy, Happy Relationship with the offer of a copy of the newly-published book to review – and five copies to give away to readers here. Of course, being the bibliophile that I am, I jumped at the chance. Details on the giveaway are at the bottom of the review.

What do you use: intercultural, interracial, or something else?
I generally refer to my marriage – and speak of other relationships on this blog – in terms of cultural similarities or differences – mainly because cultural differences are where my interests lie. Thus, Aditya and I have an inter-cultural marriage, I write about the positives and negatives of intercultural relationships, and explore the values and beliefs of Aditya’s and my cultures. And yet, culture alone does not tell the whole story. Race does matter in our relationship – at least in how the rest of society views our marriage.

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.)

We return to crotchety old Mrs. Mortimer’s Victorian children’s stories on India (a country Mrs. Mortimer unfortunately never had a chance to actually visit). Today’s lessons from the 1850′s focus on animals, thugs, and women – and why Mrs. Mortimer chose to group her subjects in such a manner, well, I’ll leave that to all of you to ponder. As always, I do think there are some interesting details in Mrs. Mortimer’s account of India; reading between the lines, you can get a both an account of India and an idea of how the British viewed their colonies. And if that doesn’t draw you in, how about learning the etymology of the word thug? (For those of you just tuning in, here are the links to Part One and Part Two

A new commenter, Lurker frequent, brought up this interesting topic in regards to intercultural marriages in the comments section of my last post:

As an Indian in the USA; the only reason I would not want to marry a local is to not “lose” my own traditions and culture. Minds meeting , and matching interests and hearts are more important, but certainly , coming from an old and rich tradition, one would want to preserve it by having a completely Indian family, no? Thoughts?

It seems to me that there are several issues in play here, some of which Aditya and I discussed in the comments section when Lf first wrote out his comment (do check it out).

1. What is meant by cultural continuity? Is it something we should value, and if so, why? Does intercultural marriage (which often leads to Third Culture Kids) automatically mean that the cultures of the parents is ending?
2. What does it mean to say that India has an “old and rich tradition” (compared, presumably, against America or other Western cultures’ younger and poorer traditions)? Is it something we should value? What exactly do we mean by tradition, anyways?
3. What sort of culture – or cultures – do we want to have in our own lives? For those of us in intercultural relationships, what (if anything) are we losing by not creating a monocultural family? Will our lives be richer for it? Poorer? What about extended families?

Well, that’s a lot of questions! Enough for a book or three, certainly, so I’ll just give a simplified sketch of my own views on this matter, than open it up to the rest of you.

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.

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.

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.

Aditya’s parents are visiting us again for the second time – they arrived late last week – which has cut into my blogging time as we catch up with them. Of course, it also means plenty of blogging material is being generated with our temporary extended family living situation. The last time they visited I only got out one substantive post on the topic – I hope to do a bit better this time. Of course, that post – which was on the (eek!) order that Aditya’s parents tried to bring to our home, disrupting my chaotic-but-somehow-functional mess of a system – still haunts us. Today Baba and Maa dusted and vacuumed the house while we at work – and then jokingly pointed out after I arrived home that my piles of mess were exactly where I left them, just cleaner.

(Little do they know that if I am stymied in blogging about their dastardly actions of cleaning our house & cooking delicious meals I have no problem in getting irrationally upset about some other minor issue. For example: the fridge has been reorganized without my express permission, and the dishwasher was inefficiently loaded, resulting in one less cup being washed than if I had loaded it. I’m still reeling!)

Since I haven’t had a chance to sit down and think through a post lately, I thought I’d share with you the transcript I’ve typed up in spare minutes from an NPR segment called Intercultural Relationships: Can They Work?. I’m not a professional transcriber, so there may be errors – but I figured something was better than nothing for those of you who can’t (or don’t like to) listen to podcasts. The segment (and my post title) was developed from an article in East West Magazine. The article, which you can find here, is quite complimentary to the NPR segment, and I encourage you to read it as well as the transcript below. I’ve bolded the parts I find particularly interesting, and will post my thoughts on it tomorrow in the comments section.

If you haven’t been following the current protests and events in Iran, then I highly encourage you to do so.

For those of you who haven’t heard about the Iran elections (not surprising given the relatively light coverage in mainstream media), Iran held presidential elections this past Friday on June 12th. The current hardline president, Ahmadinejad, was announced the winner, but the elections results released are extremely fishy, and not in line with what opinion polls were predicting. The main statistical improbability is that Ahmadinejad had roughly the same percentage of votes (around 65%) across different rural and urban areas and across different provinces, including the home provinces of his opponents and ones like Kurdistan, which historically goes for the opposition candidate like California goes for the Democratic one.

So what, right? Just another sadly rigged third-world election?

Well, as the pictures here show: No.

Me? Oh, well, I don’t have a faith. And, no, I’m not interested in getting one either.

That was my polite non-answer when asked about my religious beliefs by two Christians who stopped by Aditya’s and my doorstop to proselytize last weekend. And it was as true, as far as it goes – I’m not one much for simple faith in any context. When discussing my religious beliefs with friends & family, I’m most likely to to describe myself simply as an atheist. But when I’m feeling a little mischievous – or argumentative – I’ll sometimes put in that I’m an atheist – and a Hindu.

Yeah, it’s a bit of a complicated situation; I blame Aditya for it completely. Like many other things in my life, religion is something that has become more complicated since we set off on our intercultural marriage adventure.

Continuing from where we left off last time (see Part One for more details), here is Part Two of Mrs. Mortimer’s 1850s children’s book on India. The sections here – Religion, The Castes, The Ganges, and Beggars – are focused on Hinduism in India. Sadly, I suspect that few Americans know any more details about Hinduism than what is presented here – and I would not be surprised if few fundamentalist Christians (like some family members of mine) give the religion any more of a fair shake than Mrs. Mortimer does here. Of course, the words here are also troubling because a fair amount of it is true – although not the whole truth – once you strip away the venom and slant.

Okay, I’m a huge supporter of researching your significant other’s culture and understanding cultural differences, but let’s just put this one out there: worrying about intercultural quirks can be taken too far. There’s reasonable concern, and then there’s fretting over – or being shocked by – cultural differences that, in the end, don’t really matter. Basically, Internet, I’m saying you shouldn’t get your tighty-whities in a wad over the smaller cultural differences or customs you discover in your intercultural relationships.

(And no, it’s not all small stuff – but there’s more small stuff than the amount of complaining would suggest.)

You may have noticed that, unlike many intercultural blogs, I don’t post any recipes of new Indian dishes I’ve learned to cook. Partially that’s because, well, I don’t cook much Indian food, really. And partially because I figure that all of you are intelligent to google your way to the thousands (or, at least, dozens) of cooking blogs that feature great recipes of traditional Indian dishes. There’s a few blogs I particularly like listed in the sidebar under Odds & Ends, if you haven’t seen this blogging niche before.

However, at least in the food blogs I follow, I’ve seen an untapped segment in the market – there aren’t any recipes of Indianfied traditional American dishes! This sort of fusion food, along with stir frys, is the majority of what I cook – just simple dishes that you ate growing up mixed with an Indian sense of spices. They’re the best of both worlds: quick, easy recipes that I know like the back of my hand adjusted so that Aditya won’t complain about “blandness” when we eat.

So, today I’ll share with you my recipe for Quick Indianfied Chicken Pot Pie. This is the dish that got amazed raves from Aditya’s parents when I served it to them. (I think that prior to my cooking it, they hadn’t realized I knew how to cook at all, so perhaps they were just glad I hadn’t accidentally poisoned them.) It’s a very simple, quick, filling dish, so even if you’re not much of a cook, you should be able to manage just fine. Besides the text below, I’ve loaded a bunch of images on my flickr site to show you how to do it step-by-step too.

The study of economics screws up your brain. Or, at least, that’s what people outside the field who haven’t drunk the econ kool-aid tell me. (Like most potentially insane people, I, of course, wouldn’t know if I were in fact insane. That’s the fun of it!)

Anyway, I’m informed that most people don’t think about romantic relationships in terms of intertwined, interdependent utility functions. But I do. And I think you should consider the idea too. Think of it as practice in learning how a subculture (a geeky, mathematically-inclined subculture) thinks about love and romance.