Gori Girl

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.

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.)

NeoKalypso, my wonderful guest contributer, tells of her experiences at a friend’s wedding.

After a wonderful summer full of jungle hikes, tasty SE Asia food, and plenty of other adventures with R, I was blessed to top it all off in the most perfect way with my friend CT’s weddingYep, that’s right, our very own CaliforniaTransplant and I are friends in real life. After sharing so many similar perspectives on intercultural relationships we decided we had to meet. Our friendship blossomed and I volunteered to help her in any way I could on the day of her Gujurati Indian wedding ceremony. She took me up on it, sent me about a two page “script” and I was ready to help!

From there…magic unfolded. The gods graced us with their presence…

I hate it when bloggers post a “Sorry For Not Posting” post, but it looks like I’m going to have to do it today. I’m very sorry that I haven’t been able to post anything lately, guys, but I’ve been pulling very long hours at work – yesterday was the shortest work day in the [...]

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?

A new reader to the blog, jbf, recently posted her personal story as a detailed comment in the post Initial Family Resistance to your Intercultural Relationship. Jbf’s problem, however, is a bit different from the one highlighted in that post, so, with her permission, I’m hoisting her comment up into a post of its own, along with the comments from others that followed her original one. I’m sure she’d appreciate any further advice or suggestions you guys have. My own advice will be coming in the comments in a couple of hours. Of course, I’m not sure if I can do any better than what’s been said so far – I’m very impressed with the level of thoughtful dialogue occuring here!

Jbf’s story & problems:

I’m not sure if it is too late to comment on this, but I just came across it while searching for comfort in my situation. My friends and family have given me their support, but in matters of intolerance I do not know if they can offer anything more. I (a 25 yo white American girl) have been dating an Indian guy (born in America to Punjabi parents who moved here 2 years prior) for two years. I will call him B. We both hold graduate degrees and have careers. We met while in graduate school through mutual friends. We lived in different cities but found out that our parents lived only 15 minutes from each other. We quickly became close and decided to start a relationship despite the distance. I met his family very early on. They were receptive and welcomed me into their home. I even spent the night on multiple occasions. When he would come visit me he would bring small gifts from his mother, candles, potpourri, etc. I spent Christmas with his immediate family the last two years (I have not met extended family beyond cousins as dating is not a part of Indian culture). He graduated and started a job about a year ago. Within a few months of this we decided that when I graduated in a year I would find a job where he was and that we would move in together with the intent of being engaged within a year. Although untraditional it was important to both of us to be together in the same place before making such a commitment.

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.

We had a recent commenter here – Akshay/Amit – who receives the distinction of being the first person who’s been banned from the site (if you missed all the action, you can see all of the non-deleted fun here). He started out amusing – and was even making some points that were somewhat on topic, if not exactly rational – but quickly degenerated into straight-up insults (they weren’t even funny!). So he’s banned. Given that situation, I thought it was a good idea to lay out some clear ground rules on commenting here at Gorigirl.com. I don’t think it’s needed for the most part (you’ll are friendly!), but I’m just trying to cover my ass here.

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.

Hey guys – I recently came into contact with a woman in an intercultural relationship who became fed up with the lack of resources for intercultural couples trying to navigate thorny cross-cultural wedding issues. So she’s decided to fill the gap herself by writing a book on the subject (yay for initiative!). She’s looking to interview any sort of intercultural couple who are willing to share the story of their intercultural wedding, or are currently in the midst of planning such a wedding:

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…

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.

A plea for help from guest contributer, NeoKalypso

R and I both love music, play instruments, and love to sing. Throw on the Rent soundtrack in our car and you’ve got a live show. For a while now, we have been looking for a specifc song to do as a karaoke duet. We’re stumped. “Islands in the Stream” has been taken by another couple, “Somewhere Out There” is a little high for me and a little cheezy, and “Baby Baby” is really just for one person, Amy Grant, to sing.

Does anybody out there have a fun song idea for our karaoke debut as a couple? Whoever suggests the winning song will receive a free DVD of our performance. And humm… I wonder if GoriGirl has audio capabilities…

We talk about cultural differences a lot on this blog: “Indian parents tend to worry about X, Y, and Z when their children are getting married.” “My husband grew up in a culture where it wasn’t okay to do A, B, or C.” “Lego people of South Pacific descent enjoy conga lines and grass miniskirts.”

This is a pretty sensitive topic. In talking about cultural differences, I’m careful to not make too strict generalizations – I’ll hedge what I say by emphasizing I’m talking about my own, personal experiences, or suggest that a group seems to act in a certain way, or that some (but not all!) people from a particular culture do a particular thing. But it’s impossible to avoid making any generalizations at all about cultures or to keep from categorizing people – and silly to even try.

Here’s a short, positive guest post from contributor NeoKalypso of Doings & Undoings on family, loss, and understanding.

As most of the regular readers know, I’m relatively new to my intercultural relationship with my South Indian guy, R. Though we’ve known each other for longer, in August we will be celebrating an official year together.

Recently I had a very close family member pass away. It was an intense, emotional time and R was there for me every step of the way. He was with me through intimate family gatherings, saw where I grew up, and witnessed my grief over one of the greatest influences of my life. During all of this, my mind was often elsewhere, I was moody, and I was just all around uncharacteristically, but rightfully, sad. No one has even been a supportive part of my life like this before—usually I just buck up and find myself dealing with hard stuff alone. But R was there throughout everything: kind, listening, and not to mention absolutely loved by my family. He was my rock the whole time.

I’ve finished up with dreadful exams just in time to hear about a dreadful incident in northwest Indiana. According to the AP report:

An interracial couple who awoke to find a burning cross in their front yard in Elkhart are praying for peace and asking for privacy.

Maggie Williams says the cross burning took her and her husband, Adam, by surprise.

The FBI is investigating the cross burning, which police are calling a hate crime. Elkhart police say the 5 1/2 by 3 1/2 foot wooden cross was left burning against a tree about 15 feet from the couple’s front door about 2:30 a.m. May 2.

The Williamses have met with Mayor Dick Moore and representatives from the police department, the FBI and the NAACP. Bradley Vite, a family friend, says they also expect to meet with a Department of Justice official.

I’m hoisting up from the comments a request for advice from a reader, Travelergal, who’s run into a bit of a sticky situation with her Indian boyfriend’s family. Her boyfriend, R- just informed his family about her, and, well, the response was not as enthusiastic as one might hope. R- has emailed her about their responses, and now Travelergal is trying to figure out the best course of action:

I need your advice so here goes…my boyfriend recently told his parents about me (he is in India right now so of course he sent me this by email). I am a white American girl and he is a South Indian man. Are their comments normal? What can I do at this point to begin the process of “Slow Acclimation”? I want them to eventually accept me but I have no idea where to begin or what I should do at this point! Any advice would be great!!

Travelergal included her boyfriend’s email, which I’ve put below the fold, along with my responses (in red). I’m sure she’d appreciate all of you chiming in with suggestions, advice, or sympathy as well.

In this guest post, NeoKalypso of Doings & Undoings give us her thoughts on the first Indian wedding she attended.

Igniting the fear and fascination of city dwellers, a cougar recently turned up roaming around my highly metropolitan area. The cat was a fairly big dude, about 5 feet in length 150lbs, and eventually made its way into the tiny backyard of a resident who described seeing the animal roam by his window as “surreal.” When the police came they tried to contain the beast, but when it lunged at a policeman it was shot and killed. Turns out, shooting the cougar was really the only option given how ill fitted the city is for large, wild animals. The cougar could have killed someone, and there was no easy access to vets or tranquilizers to entertain any other safe idea. This is an example of an ecotone: when two different ecosystems collide and cause tension. The cougar and the city dwellers were just doing what they knew to survive, unfortunately both could not survive together.

Fortunately, I made it out of my first Indian wedding alive, and though my experience isn’t as dramatic as the poor cougar’s fate, I certainly felt out of my element. After having traveled plenty of strange places, visiting Buddhist Mongolian homes, sleeping in $3 hostels, and not to mention my general love for Indian culture, one would think I could handle any kind of situation, any kind of pressure… right? In almost any other contexts and as a seasoned, brave explorer, I think I would have found The Indian Wedding a smörgåsbord of fascination and wonder. However, let me tell you, The Indian Wedding is a much different experience when you are dating one of their own.

I’m sorry I haven’t been posting much lately, but I’m in the middle of finals – things will be calmer in a week or so, and I’ll get back to my regular posting schedule. In the meantime, here’s an amazing video from Britain’s Got Talent. Be sure to watch it all the way through!

Slate’s Dear Prudence column has dipped its toe into the intercultural relationship waters with a advice on how to deal with Indian parents refusing to meet their boy’s girlfriend. The situation is one that a number of readers here have seen – or are currently in – so I thought I’d link to this timely advice. Personally, I think that Prudie’s advice on what to do is pretty spot on: insist on having the parents meet the girl at the next chance. However, I don’t think Prudie understands all of the intricacies involved in an intercultural relationship – especially one where the parent-child relationship of one partner’s culture is so different from the other’s.

Septia Mutiny has a brief post on the same article – and while the post itself isn’t much to write home about, the comments section has a lot of interesting stories and discussions on it. Check it out when you have the time.