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.

South Asian women in intercultural relationships

More than one reader has written in asking whether I knew of anyone in an intercultural relationship where the paring was Indian woman and [blank] guy, since some of the difficulties these couples face can be different from those seen by a South Asian dude and [blank] gal. I personally don’t know any of these couples in real life – not seriously committed, anyways – but I do know that there are a few readers here who of these pairings (obviously – since more than one person wrote in!). So, if you’re interested in starting a discussion on the particular problems faced by these couples, speak up – this thread’s for you! Alternatively, if you’re a bit too shy to discuss the topic here, you can email me (gorigirl.admin.com) or use the contact form on the Got a Question? page, and I’ll pass along your contact information to those who were enquiring.

The following websites and article might also be of interest to couples where one person is an Indian woman. I’m only showing the pick of the litter – you can find more on the Intercultural Resources page:

• MasalaCouples – a livejournal community featuring South Asian mixed marriages and relationships where I know there are a few couples of this paring.
• Bucking tradition and following the path of my heart – an article written by a young Indian woman about dating outside of her race.
• Marriage of True Minds – an article from beliefnet discussing the intercultural relationships and weddings of three South Asian women
• The United Colors of Desi -  an article discussing intercultural marriage with a few couples of the above type profiled.

Nepalis in intercultural relationships

Another reader is looking for couples where one person is Nepalese. She writes:

I was wondering if you have any readers or friends who are in an intercultural relationship that is American-Nepali. A lot of reading material out there talks about South Asian relationships that are American-Indian, which I enjoy and extrapolate all that I can from, but it would be nice to have others to talk to that are in the same situation. There are SO many Nepalis in the US these days, I am sure there are a lot out there!

So, same deal here – I don’t know of any Nepali-other couples (all my Nepalese friends are currently loving the single life), but perhaps one of the readers here does?

There also aren’t a lot of resources – that I could find – out there for interracial/intercultural couples where one partner is Nepali. This site, aimed at explaining Nepali culture to Canadians, has a few interesting bits, including some recommend fiction, but nothing focused on intercultural relationships. On that topic, I could only find this article, called Cultural Crisscross, which is nice, but not very long. If anyone else knows of articles that might be of use, be sure to comment below.

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 System, you see, is the underlying, um, order that controls the chaos of our lives. It’s the three piles of letters and bills ,discordantly stacked on the counter top, which cannot be mixed. It’s the pile of clothes on the closet floor that magically rotates, allowing for the least wrinkled and least pungent item to float to the top when needed. It’s the random junk strewn all over the living room by my inner Feng Shui master that lets me find the scissors, postage stamps, or a hair band right when I need it. Move one thing, and it’s quite possible that my entire life will be ruined. Or I won’t be able to find my favorite lip balm. Basically the same thing.

Aditya and I have developed The System through many years of practice, and Maa and Baba just can’t hope to learn the dance in only a couple of months. The System is breaking under the weight of four adults in the same space doing their own thing.

First, there were all the delicious Indian leftovers in the fridge – where did my aging vegetables go? Where’s the moldy cheese? Who hid the frozen meals behind all these rotis?
Then there were the piles of clean clothes appearing in our bedroom - I can’t find my sweater; it’s not on the floor or the ironing board, or draped over a chair, or wedged under a couch cushion… oh, the dresser!
Finally, we hit rock bottom when I walked in the door after work one day, and found the Kajol fur dust balls had disappeared, and the wood floors seemed distinctly… shiny.

I enquired about the radically changed appearance of my home, and Baba told me he had cleaned it. Having been raised to be polite, I thanked him profusely, and told him that there was no need to do so much housework during the day. Frankly, I was a little embarrassed at the state that Aditya and I had allowed the house to descend to – especially with guests visiting. Baba replied, saying, in effect, that “No, no, you should not thank me. I consider this my house too, and I have a responsibility to keep it clean.”

I’ll admit that this statement… pricked me a bit. “No,” I thought, “this is my house, and I’ll decide however clean it ought to be. And I can darn well thank you if I want to.” There may have even been a mental image of a tongue sticking out somewhere along the line. Before I could voice these fleeting thoughts, however, the slightly more rational and mature part of my brain asserted itself.

“Wait a second, Gori. You get home tired from work, walk in the door, and are upset that someone cleaned up the house for you? And, hey, did you notice that delicious smelling curry on the stove? You know, an Indian curry, cooked by someone from India, where the whole extended family home is a common thing? And where duties – particularly familial duties – are considered things you just do, not things you’re thanked for? Remember how you and Aditya always use to have arguments over his lack of please & thank you? Yeah… let’s connect those dots now.”

So, yes, some papers were moved out of their traditional place. And it took me two days to hunt down my favorite blue scissors, which Maa absconded with to use while knitting an all green outfit for a grandson on the way (no, not mine, and yes, I suspect he’ll look like a little, but awesome leprechaun). The System is shot, and that can be a little frustrating, even if there are new benefits to this short-term extended family lifestyle that I signed myself up for. But there are benefits – awesome ones in terms of household chores, and even better ones in terms of family time: mornings and nights spent playing cards, watching movies, and discussing Indian and American culture and news.

Could I handle this extend family thing in the long-term? I don’t know. I can be prickly when things don’t meet my expectations, especially at home. I need my alone time, with the door closed, as much as I need air – like any other true introvert. I miss knowing exactly what the statuses of the fridge and pantry are, day and night. Right now it’s working, though, and that’s all that really matters.

I ended up thanking Baba again for cleaning up the house, and told him how much I appreciated his efforts. I do the same thing with Maa when she cooks a lovely dinner for us, or gives me a hand with clearing the table, or even passes me something out of my reach. Growing up, I was taught to thank family members for efforts made, large or small, and to always make requests with a “please”. Maa and Baba are accepting of this strange American quirk of mine.

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 wedding. Yep, 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…

Treading in the Temple

As I am forever paranoid about being late, I was the first one to arrive to the temple last Sunday. When no one was there, a small Indian man who took care of the temple told me to take a look in the main temple area. He told me to look at all the small details of the gods’ faces: Shiva, Krishna, Hanuman, and Ganesh all looked at me in serene, dignified ways. As I roamed around the temple I began to feel like I was back in India again…and it’s the same old stuff…time slips away, you feel as if something bigger than yourself is about to occur, and, a forever paradox of Indian, the calm came too. I knew it was going to be a special day.

When the guys came to set up chairs, I did so as well in my gagra. R bought me the gagra from Malaysia and I had it form fitted there, too. It was pink, blue and sparkly all over. This time I knew just how many bangles to wear, what to do with the scarf, how to do my hair, what shoes to wear, and how to hold myself. I felt like a regal princess (which is not a common feeling for me ) and the pattern, design, and feel of the gagra also made me feel apart of something old and special. This feeling was heightened when guests started trickling in and the Aunties commented on my appearance. They seemed very pleased and I commented back on their loveliness. I’ve never been big on what I wear, but wearing traditional Indian clothes really makes me feel like I’m a part of something bigger and better. It also makes me feel very connected to the other woman wearing their saris and gagras. I even started to critique other people (mostly the non-Indians) on how they were wearing their saris and if it was the proper way or not. Regardless of it was “right” or not, I loved that people were trying to be an even more intimate part of the Indian community, the ceremony, and the tremendous union CT and her husband M now share.

After setting up the chairs, I followed CT’s instructions on setting up the memorial, gift, and food tables. This is when I met The Uncles. M’s Uncles were amazing…they told me they set up these Indian ceremony’s four times a year and were running all around making sure everything would be very nice for CT and M. They took so much pride in doing this. We all kind of worked together, joked about who was going to owe who rupees for the set up, and really enjoyed our work for the ceremony. I accused L Uncle of eating all the pakoras–which earned some laughs. Helping out, running around, and commiserating with the Uncles never felt like a chore. The ceremony set up wasn’t about the “things” or making everything look exactly perfect. It wasn’t about stressing out, nerves, or being overly emotional. Though everyone was running around and busy, it felt very even, cool, and…fun! Later, it would dawn on me that the Uncles and I were just fulfilling the natural duty we owe one another as family and friends…a notion I have found most pure and effortlessly managed in Indian culture.

As CT floated around talking to people she was at ease, calm, beautiful, and full of grace. And that was even before the ceremony began.

CT introduced me to one of her older Gujurati Uncles who married an American woman in 1968. As he held my hands, I got a few tears in my eyes. CT told me his American bride even wore a sari. I felt bound to him in some way because, as many of you know, R and I have been navigating through our relationship very much conscious of his conservative, traditional Indian family. Not one of his 200 family members has married outside of his specific Telugu Indian culture—ok wait, one: to a Gujarat. Anyway, it was incredibly inspiring to meet someone of the same culture (in the larger Indian sense) who tread this path decades before us. Beyond this wonderful Uncle, there were several Indian/American unions at CT and M’s wedding. Of course I chatted it up with a few…and they all made it feel…so normal. It was relieving, inspiring, and just filled me with so much hope. I joked with R that we have to catch his Telugus up to M’s Gujarats!

Tracing Ancient Steps

The ceremony was exquisite. There were rose petals, walks around the fire, the string that symbolically bound CT and M together, advice given by married ladies, and of course, the handing off of CT to M. CT told me she felt so alive and in the present as the Gor Maharaj addressed her and M personally and candidly throughout the ceremony. The Uncles were very concerned about the non-Indians feeling comfortable and prompted me when I needed to explain something to them. Though the guests got up as they pleased, snacked on Indian food, and chatted throughout, the ceremony never felt chaotic or irreverent. Frankly, it felt just the opposite. The day was about easing into a ceremony Indians have perpetuated for thousands of years, absorbing the powerful rituals, being bound to a community, and understanding our duties as husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers. And it was about…communing with the gods.

Learning the Path

When R and I were traveling this summer, around week four, and while laying in a dirty hostel bed, it dawned on us how lucky and blessed we had been to be able to share so much time together laughing, bonding, and knowing each other so much more deeply. It was during this realization, that for the first time, something clicked, and I knew an aspect of Hinduism intuitively. I said out loud, “We must please the gods now.” R looked at me curiously and smiled in one of his mysterious ways I don’t quite understand yet. He said, “Yes when good things happen to you, you must not boast or be prideful…you could alert the gods and upset them with your pride.” And I said, “We now have to be thankful, humble ourselves, and give back…” I then totally got it. I really knew what karma meant inside of me and it felt incredible. I decided our next trip should be to volunteer.

So if I can offer one, small piece of advice to CT and M it is this: because you had the most beautiful, deeply moving ceremony you must continue to please the gods. You must do good, be humble and thankful for this incredible blessing because it was a gift.

The good feeling of CT and M’s wedding day is still lingering inside of me. It was one of the best ceremonies that I have ever been able to play a small part in and witness. One of the most touching parts for me was when M’s dad came up to me after the ceremony, held my hands, looked at me in a calm, serious Indian way I have come to know, and said, “You are more than a sister to CT and to our family. You did such a good job helping us, thank you so much. Thank you so, so much.” More than feeling appreciated for my efforts, I felt connected and that I played my part in a drama much larger than my own, individual life. His expressed gratitude was simply the byproduct of doing what I was supposed to be doing, of the role I was supposed to play.

The whole day reminded me that, yes…we are here to be serious about living, to fulfill a purpose, a duty, and through our own human symbols, tap in to a love that is something much bigger, however intangible, than ourselves. As my American individualist notions are starting to shift inside me, I am learning, and more importantly, feeling, what it is like to surrender your needs for the bigger community…the bigger myths. And it feels wonderful. The food, clothing, music, rituals, symbols…and people…of the Indian tradition directly connect me to this notion. What a great tradition to be a part of. It is one I am honored to begin to really know and feel working in my life.

(I feel so guilty for neglecting the blog after getting a wonderful submission like this. Check back late tonight/early tomorrow morning for a post of my own. – Gori Girl)

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.

At this time (this past Christmas) while making the decision we wanted to include our families. His mom said that she would support us if we had a traditional Sikh wedding and that i always put family first. She stressed that she wanted a daughter and not just a daughter-in-law. She said she spoke to a few people in her family and that they were educated and would support us as long as my home was always open to them. She said this rather harshly, but it was still acceptance, however I knew it would never be the same as if I were brown. His mother has met my mother and sat in my parent’s house and spoke highly of me and told my mom she would want me as a daughter. B and I went over everything we could think of, what a wedding would mean, how we would raise children, expectation from each others families, holidays, etc. He spoke privately to 3 of his cousins and his mom to ask for their support. Everyone said it would be hard, that he should consider his own culture (as he has only dated white women), but that if this is what he wanted they would support him.

B is proud of his culture but does not want to give his children traditional names or go to temple with them. He and I agree with how we would want to start and raise a family. We are not religious people, he is an Atheist and his family has known this long before he and i ever met. B and I have similar morals and life goals. I have made an effort to learn names of people and food in Punjabi. He is not fluent himself. To put it into perspective, his cousins tease him that he is white. I took what his mother said very seriously and am ok with meeting her requests. She has even bought me a sari while in India.

I have accepted a job and moved in with B. It has been one month but we have quickly realized that we made a good choice and that we are happy together (more so than I would have imagined). For the last two months his mom has turned on he and i. She is condescending to me and cold to B. For example he and I were going to friend wedding and upon seeing my black conservative dress, she commented “oh yeah, you guys wear black to weddings” she then turned away from me and did not hug me when we left . She recently went to a white/Punjabi wedding and according to her other son has been very upset since. Last week B was in his parents town on a business trip and saw them for dinner. His mother gave him a letter and would not speak to him. The short page long letter said she has always been there for him and worked hard to raise him. That he owed her something, a marriage to a woman from his own culture and if he did anything other than that she would not be able to support him any longer. After additional dialogue it came out that she will not speak to or see anyone in my family again, that she will not be open to me, and that she will never forgive or open up to my boyfriend again. She says that her family sides with her as well. B’s father considers himself Switzerland and will not speak against our relationship or for it (he is a very passive man, but that is another story). My boyfriend’s only brother says he understands why we may continue our relationship but says that he would put family first and that B should consider it seriously himself. The only thing “wrong” with me is my race.

She has always been manipulative of B. Saying things like “oh you aren’t flying in to visit me this weekend because you don’t love me.” I do understand where she comes from (as best I can). She has an arranged marriage and although not abusive, still not good. Her own mother-in-law and her do not have a relationship. I do not understand how a mother can do this to her son. His whole life he was taught that as long as he was with someone who loved and respected him that he was doing the right thing. In high school he went to school dances with white girls and his mother cried and locked her self in her room for weeks. In college, she apologized and told B she was wrong. But now she calls B sleazy for living with me and is asking him to change his life. I understand “the ripple effect.” A mixed marriage does mean that people in the community will shun B’s parents. It makes me very sad. What hurts me is that she changed her own views. I have nothing else in my new town. I have a year commitment to my company. I am shaken to the core by this. What else is she capable of? There is no happy ending.
The romantic movie ending of the boy choosing his love is not so. On our wedding day his mother and family would not be present and there would not be a chance of a future relationship. My own parents are very sad by this and have offered their support to B and I. My dad’s parents were immigrants from the Ukraine and while they have never treated my American mom the same as the rest of the Ukrainian family, they were still present for my dad’s major life events.

B and I have more talking to work through. He does not know what to do, nor do i. He knows that staying together would be good for us, but he also knows this would offer a lifetime of grief to his mother/family and no one accepting me (which I could endure I think, but I also think I could have a breaking point depending on how his family actually treats me to my face). If it were just the two of us a discussion is not even needed, we would be together. But family is a part of life and marriage.

I should tie this back to the original post, and I suppose I just want to say be prepared for the worst, but that it is an exercise to know how you both really feel. The exercise of learning about each others cultures and discussing each others expectations for life brought us closer together as a couple and opened my eyes to traditions and situations I would not have considered on my own. It sounds like you are both understanding and willing to work with each other, this has been one reason why my relationship has worked so well until now. It’s fun growing together and I wish you the best. It makes me happy that some people can overcome intolerance.

Added: A year & a half after this post was first published, jbf stopped by with an update in the comments section here.