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.

A regular ol’ day

As previously mentioned, when I wake up in the morning, there is always (magically!) a beer stein’s worth of ginger tea waiting for me. Aditya’s and my cell alarms both go off at seven am, because we like to pretend we’ll get up and do something worthwhile, like go running with the dogs. Instead, we watch the dogs pretend that they’re  WWF fighters until Maa knocks on the door around seven thirty letting us know that the tea is ready. I’m not altogether sure when Maa & Baba wake up, although I’ve heard rumors of unholy risings at 0′butt thirty.

Aditya and I will stumble across the hall to the other bedroom, where our tea is waiting on a tray Maa & Baba’s bed, along with biscuits to nibble on – typically we have some semi-bland Indian cookies, like Parle-Gs, although today we had the all-American Tollhouse Chocolate Chip Cookies I baked on Sunday (secret tip: always put in half a teaspoon extra vanilla). While sipping our morning tea we discuss the day’s plans, the state of Indian cricket, and recent news, including what Baba has already read on BBCnews.com that morning. Well, Aditya and his parents talk – about 50/50 in English and Bengali – and I attempt to gather my wits. I think today mostly consisted of Aditya trying to explain why this video and the phrase “the world is literlly her oyster” are so funny.

We’ll chat until a little after eight, then Aditya and I will hurry to get ready for the work day. Last summer Maa and Baba traveled into DC once or twice a week to visit the various Smithsonians – which meant that bathroom real estate was a prime commodity in the mornings-, but this time they’ve hung around at home the majority of the time. By a quarter to nine Aditya is out the door to face the horror that is I-66 during rush hour, and I follow a half an hour or so later, after a quick walk & “tennis ball session” with the pups.

What happens at the house while Aditya and I are at work is largely a mystery to me, something that I piece together from various clues after returning home. The house often looks much cleaner than when I left. Dishes for dinner are already cooked (which makes it somewhat difficult to learn new Indian recipes from Maa). A newspaper will be on the table, despite the fact that we don’t have a subscription. The Burn Notice dvd that arrived the night before from Netflix will inevitably be ready to go out again (Maa has developed an addiction to that show that borders on the level of my CoffyBite addiction).

Aditya and I get off work sometime between six and seven thirty and are met at the door by more chai & chatting. Often this will transition to a game of Twenty Nine, which is pretty much my favorite partner-based card game ever.  Yesterday we played a cutthroat game until ten or so before finally stopping to heat up dinner, and I learned a new Bengali cuss word, courtesy of Baba after I dealt him yet another amazingly awful hand.

Dinner is normally some combination of lentils, rice, and one or two chicken/fish/prawns/vegetable Indian dishes, prepared by Maa. It’s always amazing, altho a bit richer than I’m used to – I’ve gained 6 pounds in the past month. By eleven Maa & Baba retire to bed, while Aditya and I hang out, catch some TV, and likely work a bit on our laptops until midnight. And at some point in there the dogs get a long walk or a jog if the weather is cool and my willpower & injured leg are feeling up to it (the lack of jogging may also have something to do with those 6 pounds…).

I feel pretty bad that we’ve been working such long hours, but there’s not much we can do about it. While we haven’t been able to take days off during the week this summer for day trips, we’ve been going out to eat at unique ethnic restaurants in the evenings. Ethiopian from DC’s famous U Street has been the favorite so far. Weekends have also been pretty chill, with a focus on running various errands and recovering from the week, although we did get into DC to check out the Hope Diamond at the Natural History Museum & the fireworks over the Fourth of July weekend.

Maa and Baba leave for California on Thursday, so you can expect some more regular blogging from then on. Last night, after our marathon Twenty Nine session, they sat down for an interview on their take on intercultural relationships, which I’ll be posting as soon as I can transcribe it.  I also plan on writing some more on their time here, and the lessons I’ve learned from having them stay.

Having grown up in a relatively conservative family in India, I can understand the friction that can occur often between “the younger generation” and “traditional family”… and I especially sympathize with nice people like some of the readers here – or their partners – who suffer from the drudgery that often characterizes communications between these two groups.

However, for the most part I think the blame for the difficult relations between Indian parents and their adult children lies squarely on the “younger generation” -of which I am a part. I think that most issues root from a tendency amongst Indian men and women (but I’m speaking to the guys mainly, since I am one) to refuse to engage their parents in a responsible and adult manner.

I’ve been reading over Gori’s shoulder as she delves back into the intercultural blogosphere, and some of the posts out there – such as The ties that bind by Elizabeth or the responding comment by Jessica, author of the blog Coffee and Tea, and, frankly, I cannot fathom how Elizabeth or Jessica’s partners can, with a clear conscience, claim that an arranged marriage situation is somehow out of their control.

A few caveats

Before I get into this topic too deeply, I first want to state some of my beliefs that relate to this matter:

1. I think family should be important to every person – and this includes not only your own birth family, but also your partner (married or not), any kids you might have, and your in-law family.
2. I don’t have anything against arranged marriages, per say… I’ve seen a lot of them, and I’ve seen many work, and I’ve seen many not work… I think in the cultural context of India, they often make sense. Many arranged marriages today are not that different from what you see happening on match.com and the like. If I hadn’t met Gori – or another woman that I wished to marry – on my own, I would have explored an arranged marriage eventually.
3. I don’t think that there’s anything particularly “Indian” about allowing yourself to be put into an arranged marriage while you are committed to someone else – that is, being Indian doesn’t absolve you of your responsibilities towards the love of your life.
4. I don’t think there’s anything particularly “Western” about what I’m about to say. I would’ve said the same when I was 13 – having never stepped outside India, and having been exposed to only a very small amount of western tv/movies.

Responsibility

This is something my father told when I was very young: “Before Sachin (my childhood idol) goes in to bat, dozens of commentators, coaches, players give him advice on how he should bat… but once he’s in the middle (of the pitch), it’s all up to him. It’s between him and everything that comes at him – it’s up to him to make his decisions, act accordingly, and live with the consequences – good or bad.”

It’s a very simple idea – no matter who gives you what advice, ultimately, it’s your life and you have to make your own decisions – and live by them. It’s about taking responsibility for your life.

Managing Expectations

I firmly believe that the root of most domestic arguments is a mismatch of expectations amongst people… for example, I might expect GG to come home and cook, she might expect me to do the same – and if we don’t communicate our expectations, we’d be end up home hungry – and grumpy.  In intercultural relationships, this is issue becomes more critical, since, because of the varied backgrounds of the people involved, the cultural expectations can become quite disparate. Thus, one of the key things to be done is to ensure that expectations of all parties are communicated and managed.

Long before GG & I talked about getting married, my mother & I spoke about what she expected in a daughter-in-Iaw, and I was clear about which of her expectations were unlikely to be met (a nice Bengali girl that Maa picked out for me, for example… not so likely). This “manging of expectations” shouldn’t be acrimonious or anything – for me, it was just a simple chat over tea and biscuits about growing up, and thinking about the future. But when I later met and started to seriously date GG, Maa wasn’t nearly as surprised as she might have been without this chat – it was already on her radar that things in this arena might not shake out the way she had intially expected them.

Finally, a few tips:

1. If you interact with your parents like you’re 12, that’s how they’ll treat you. Act like an adult, manage expectations, and communicate clearly & truthfully.
2. I am sorry, but nobody can force you to marry anyone. Unless your parents are holding an Uzi to your head, you don’t need to marry anyone. Emotional blackmail is rubbish – If your mother threatens to commit suicide, let her say that – she’s bluffing. Think forward 10-15 years… when your five-year-old throws a tantrum about the latest shiny toy, buying him the toy is the last thing you want to do – you’re rewarding bad behavior. Standing up to your parents when they behave poorly is just practice for that future five-year-old.
3. In all seriousness, if you truly believe that your mother/father will kill themselves because you decided to marry someone you loved… either you or your parents belong in a mental ward. Life isn’t a 70′s Hindi film where the heroine’s father is in cahoots with the mafia, the government and the police just to keep you two apart.
4. Ask yourself why you are “hiding” your relationship, if you’ve avoided telling your family about your significant other for a long (year +) time. If you are committed to this person, this is probably the dumbest thing to do – because it hurts everyone in the end.
5. If going to India will bring about events “out of your control” – i.e. your parents will try to arrange a marriage for you then and there – then don’t go. Make it clear to all involved parties why you are not going.
6. If your parents sign you up to an arranged marriage website (when you’ve told them you’re not interested), remember that ninjas won’t jump out of the bushes to kill you if you ignore the site altogether and refuse to engage in this sort of non-sense.
7. This is the most important: remember that in this fiery triangle of you, your partner, and your family, you know all the parties the best, and you are the main reason this situation exists. So, suck it up and take responsibility. It’s your job to manage expectations on both sides. You should never allow the situation to escalate to death or suicide threats and prospective brides back in India if you’re already involved with someone else.

It’s too easy to blame other people for your misery. Instead you should take action so that you can minimize the misery for all parties if you’re pro-active in managing expectations, intercultural relationships (really, all relationships) are much easier to mange.