Aditya: So what is that story that you were telling, of when Baba came to meet you?

Baba: That was our semi-arranged marriage!

Maa: Semi? Why “semi”? Absolutely arranged!

Baba: I saw her, and then I said okay. It was not arranged. So semi.

Maa: They put an advertisement in paper, that their son is not getting married for last ten years, they’re searching for daughter-in-law.

Baba: And my in-laws had a daughter who was not being married for ten years, said, “Okay, this is a right match!”

Maa: So, when they came, they didn’t tell me… Maybe my parents knew it, but I didn’t know that they were coming. So it was Sunday, and I had lot of hair… The whole week I had to go to college, so I didn’t wash my hair properly, because in India you can’t go with, uh, hair loose, you have to tie it up. Nowadays everything is gone, but that time it was there. So Sunday is my oil massaging day. So from top to bottom I used to apply oil.

Aditya: And Maa’s hair was down to her knees almost.

Maa: So, they came at three o’clock. And I took bath at twelve o’clock, I think. And I didn’t do shampoo also. And you can just imagine…

Baba: You know, that is why I got married to her, just because of her hair. Because I could not see anything else [to judge]!

<laughter>

Maa: And in India, when some girl is to, uh, be presented to her in-laws, they put on a lot of makeup, good saris, jewelry. But I was wearing a cotton sari, normal, because I didn’t know that they were coming. And my sister-in-laws, all, my parents, couldn’t [dress me up], because I am very strict about that. What I am, I am, there’s no makeup or something. And, I used to wear a bangle on my right hand. On my left hand, I used to wear a watch, a wrist-watch. I was at home, so I didn’t wear that also. And I met him like that!

GG: So, after you both met, did you discuss anything with each other?

Baba: Oh, yeah, we had a talk, between us. But I don’t think that it was, uh, like an examination. We just discussed what I feel, what did she feel that particular day? That’s all.

Maa: And then for food, at the restaurant, I didn’t take it. Because my mother told me, don’t go with anybody in the restaurant. So he was asking, “Are you hungry?” “No,” [I said].

Baba: So I sat down, I ate.

Maa: And he ate. When we came back to our home, from [movie] picture, I was telling my mother, “Give me some food, I am very hungry!” And he says, “Why didn’t you take?!” But how could I explain to him at that time?

Baba: That was my golden era.

I cannot imagine participating in the process of an arranged marriage – not that I think that they’re necessarily bad, but I just can’t picture what it would be like. Maa & Baba’s story of their first meeting was, therefore, quite enlightening as to some of the particulars. It all strikes me as something out of a Jane Austin novel.

GG: Okay, next question!

Baba: This is off the syllabus?

GG: Yes! So, did Aditya discuss marrying me with you?

Maa: Actually, I told him, you ought to get married. If you want to stay together, you ought to get married. That I told him.

Aditya: I mean, it was a variety of things. I think it started… I mean, obviously, after graduating, I moved to California, and I was looking for housing. We talked about it. And obviously I asked before I proposed to GG.

Maa: He didn’t ask, we discussed.

Aditya: Yeah, we discussed, it was more like that.

Maa: I said, if you want to be with her, then get married. You take the responsibility.

The idea of “responsibility” being a key part of a marriage is something I’m still noodling over. I’ll admit I’ve never thought of it in exactly those terms.

GG: Did your expectations of what you expect for a daughter-in-law change after Aditya said he was marrying me?

Aditya: What I think she is asking is, would you have different expectations if she was Indian?

Baba: No. And that should be in block capitals! Because I told you, my expectations for my daughter-in-law is the same whether it is Bhabi, Punjabi, or GG, American.

Bhabi is Aditya’s sister-in-law, i.e. Baba’s other daughter-in-law, for those just tuning in.

GG: So, what would you say was something I did that impressed you early on?

Maa: Everything.

Aditya: I think they spoke the highest of your card-playing ability.

GG: Card-playing?

Maa: Yeah, card-playing…

Baba: Not card-playing ability, the way you picked up the game. You know, pick-up is more important for playing the game. If your pick up is good, whether it is cards or studies, that is a quality, and of course, which I feel did impress on the first day.

Like Aditya, I come from a family where playing cards is a key part of family bonding. Aditya’s family’s game is Twenty-Nine, while my family plays a house version of Rummy and Oh Hell. Being decent at cards in both of our families – or at least enjoying playing cards – is a pretty important trait.

Maa: Even when we came back from the cabin, you cooked for us, a nice —

Baba: No, that was afterwards, but, my point is, the first day.

Maa: But, that time, they were not even engaged. So I liked it very much.

I made a spicy spagetti with chicken sausage (since Maa & Baba don’t eat beef or pork), a simple salad, and some out-of-the-box cake for the family at Aditya’s brother’s house while they were off on a day trip – really the meal was nothing special or complicated. I think Maa might have been secretly afraid that the rumors of Americans were true, and I couldn’t cook a thing.

Aditya: What about Bear?

GG: My dad’s dog.

Maa: Oh, very sweet, very nice.

Aditya: Baba was taking pictures all evening of Bear, there were more pictures of Bear than of GG.

Maa: I liked your mother, your grandmother… And I was very much impressed by you.

Maa met my materal grandmother while I was back in the Midwest, attending college. Granmama is a French-Candian immigrant, altho she’s lived in the US for most of her life.

GG: Anything I did that surprised you, or maybe somewhat negative? Something you thought was kind of odd?

Baba: Actually, should I tell you? Yes, I’m not so critical in little things. If otherwise it is acceptable, it is okay.

Maa: Yes, everybody has some problems.

Baba: If everybody is happy, I feel that it’s good enough. I don’t see things so critical.

GG: Okay, so, now, Aditya & I are married… What is the hardest part about having a non-Bengali, or non-Indian daughter-in-law?

Maa: From my side, the only difficulty is to express myself.

Baba: The language.

Maa: The language. The hardest thing. Nothing else.

Aditya: (sarcastically) GG has been working hard on her Hindi.

I think I have a mental block against learning languages. I’m still struggling to keep a schedule of regular studying – but hearing this was a big motivator.

Baba: I don’t… Whether you are GG, or someone else, it would have not have made much of difference if that person were the same as GG. Because I don’t, uh, everybody has some shortcoming, some strong points. So if I forget about the rest of the things, only see the small shortcomings here or there, mentally I will not be happy. And I do not want to be unhappy.

GG: But is there any difficulty you see, maybe in customs I don’t know, or…

Maa: Even I don’t know a lot of customs. So I don’t care for that.

GG: Or my family doesn’t have the same expectations that an Indian family would…

Maa: How would I know, how do we know what your family expectations? We don’t know…

Baba: One thing I know, GG, that I have got my own way of looking at things. I can lead my life in that lane/line/road – whatever you want to call it, but I cannot make others follow it. Therefore, yes, often things happen even between me and Maa, where we think differently, we argue, feel bad. Maa stops talking, I stop talking, but that is for only a few hours. Because we know that this has to be there, because [we are] two persons.

Similarly, if I am very critical to anybody, it is making an unhappy relation, and no one is happy by doing so. It is better if we can enjoy each other’s company, which is good, overlook the shortcomings, the things that we don’t like. If I know that GG does not like something, I would like to avoid those things as much as possible. I have not vacuumed your bedroom, because I have felt that you would not like disturbed whatever arrangement or, uh, disarrangement…

<general laughter>

…that you have got. It is something like that, I have avoided it. But had it been my world, anybody could have done it for me and I would be happy. It is something like that. I try to avoid, don’t see things, which I feel may cause a bit of uneasiness between two persons.

GG: Is there anything that has been a positive, an unexpected thing that you’ve learned or experienced from having an American daughter-in-law?

Baba: Should I say now, one-to-one? Ready? Sure? I had the impression that Americans are generally very clean …that they keep things in order. But here, I have found…

And the truth comes out! This was the only critical thing I could get Maa & Baba to admit.

GG: It’s as much your son as me!

Aditya: GG, don’t even go there. You know, Thalith used to be our roommate, first when the three of us lived together, and then Thalith, GG, Ivan, and Claudia [lived together]. Thalith always used to make fun of us because the house was dirty and he used to blame me. But after I graduated, and he lived just with her, then he realized that what he actually saw there was her mess minus my cleaning up. You know, I visited GG twice, surprised her by arriving there before she expected me to be there. And the first day that I got there GG was sitting on the bed. And to get on the bed you could only put one step on the ground from the door. So you had to make a hop on one foot towards the bed, and then from that foot – you didn’t have space to put down the second foot – you had to hop off of that foot straight onto the bed. So everything you see is, always remember, that is GG minus my cleaning. Don’t say that it’s equally my fault.

While it is true that my college apartment room was that messy (I was working on my senior thesis!), it is complete falsehood that Aditya is a net benefit in the cleaning  department; during the same time period Aditya’s studio in California was nearly as messy. Really, we’re just messy (and busy) people.

Maa: What to say…

GG: It’s okay to say unflattering things. Whatever is on your mind.

Maa: Actually, I love you very much, all qualities, but the only thing, I can’t tolerate this much of untidiness. No, I think that, uh, you are since your childhood away from your mother, maybe that has affected you. Because only a mother can teach a daughter…

GG: My mother is also very messy.

Maa: Maybe, maybe because of that.

Maa: What you will do, please, you [GG] do the dusting and cleaning, let him do the vacuuming. Yes, do it together. That way you will enjoy it. Otherwise you’re doing it here, he’s doing it there. When Aditya told me that last time that Amy [the basement tenant] was here, that after Amy left, we’ll do the basement as the TV room or something like that. How is it possible that somebody is playing there, she’s playing here in her computer? This is not right. Whenever you’ll be at home, stay together. That is the first thing between husband and wife. You’ll see that in our house also, wherever Baba is I try to be, yes, because I don’t get to …

Baba: You see, when I want to avoid her, she’s always there! … Have you gone to church? Have you seen a dirty church?

GG: I don’t go to church.. I’ve only been a few times when I was little.

Baba: Okay, the ten times you’ve gone to church in your life, have you ever seen a dirty, stinking church?

GG: No…

Baba: Why? Cleanliness is next to godliness! And it is your house. You want that, you know, welcoming look. A house that is messy cannot be a happy house.

Point. Aditya and I really do need to stop living like we’re still in college.

GG: Okay, last two questions. Is there any advice that you would give to an American, or another Westerner who is dating an Indian, and is worried maybe that the parents won’t approve or anything like that?

Maa: Yes. There is something. Like [in] India, we are naturally very family-oriented. It is in our, uhh, in our heritage. But in Western country, people are so advanced, so educated, so independent, that sometimes, they feel, that…

Baba: They become islands.

Maa: Yes, they become islands. The space, their conception of personal space makes them very lonely, gradually. Everybody has some defects, some shortcomings – that is a girl also and a boy. Don’t look at the shortcomings. If you like somebody, if you love somebody, try to, both of, try to compromise on some points. If you can give only will you have something. Always if you – uh, not you, I mean general you – that giving away is much better than taking away.

Baba: No, actually, her question was actually if an Indian boy or a girl is dating an American boy or girl, what advice would be given to them. That is what she asked.

Maa: That is the advice! You have to give something to take something!

Baba: No, no, no… That you are talking about harmony in married life or in relationship. I would say that if they are dating an Indian boy, don’t just go by the boy. Unless he has decided to get out of the family altogether – cut off, I mean – not that [he is] in touch with them, they come and go… Otherwise, the boy should make it clear exactly how his parents or her parents would react to such a decision.

Like, you two are very nice. When you come to India, we [could have] decided no, you have to be like Indian girl, you have to put on a lot of oil, get up early in the morning, five o’clock, take a bath, go to temple, do puja, come back, then you go to the kitchen, cook food.

Maa: That type of family is still there in India.

Baba: A lot of them! The ones that – I have been reading your blog – most of the people they have got that type of problem when they go abroad, to their in-laws place. Therefore, it must be absolutely clear in mind [of the couple] what the expectations [are] at the other end. And if it is so, they should not go to India at all. Because a lot of disharmony would be created on such visits. And as far as we are concerned, as I told you, we are much more liberal, we know and we have got faith on our children, and things are different. I don’t think that one can, uh, judge parents just by seeing our family.

Maa: Even uh, Indian girls get lots of problems.

Baba: Indian girls get problems at their in-laws place because the culture, the practices are different.

GG: Would you suggest for a couple in that situation, that they just go along with the parents, or they say “no, we aren’t going to do that. She will not be getting up at five am”? Or some sort of compromise?

Baba: No, no, I would say if they’re going to live in US they should live like in US. They cannot live in US as [in] India. If you are going to live in India, live like India[ns]. You should not change your lifestyle because you are in a different country [for a short visit], you better live the style of the country [that] you live in.

GG: Anything else you want to share?

Maa: No, I told you that space is very…

Baba: Space should not make–

Maa: Make a man lonely.

Baba: No. That should not, I would say, divide a couple.

Aditya: I think it’s all about, when it comes to intercultural relationships, or really any relationship, it’s all about setting expectations. Like you should never get to the point where there is, like… In most Indian families parents are part of the married family. And you should never get to the point where those stakeholders are not on the same page.

Baba: That’s what I’m saying. And once – often courtship, like salesmanship – often the boy or the girl will tell little bit of half-truth. They will tell the facts just to impress, or hide things that maybe one [will] realize when you go to India. So that should be quite clear, how it is like at the other end. Like earlier, people used to get married, not to Americans, but a lot of people used to get married to the European girls, mainly British. And most of these people are sufficiently moneyed, but they were not like Rajas. But they used to give the impression that they were like small Rajas. And after the wedding they used to go, they used to find that things are not like what they heard during their courtship, and they had a lot of trouble during those days. The same way that I feel that one should be quite truthful, and put both sides on the right side of the picture, and then decide.

Maa: And husband and wife relationship should very, very based on honesty.

And that was the end of the interview.

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. Technical details: I transcribed the interview from a sound recording, and have only edited (in square brackets) for clarity or in keeping with Maa & Baba’s wishes for certain things to be “off the record”. My comments and notes post-transcription are in red.

GG: What were your concerns when Aditya came to the US to study?

Maa: Whether he’ll be able to cope with everything; [I was] concerned with his studies. And we didn’t have that much of money to support him, so whether he would be able to support himself.

Baba: Firstly, the financial part. Secondly, he had never lived away from home – this was the first time he’d be living away from home. Thirdly, it was a strange country for him, the surroundings, the education system, language, food, everything was different! And I knew that he would be able to cope with the things, but I had doubted how easily he’d be able to cope up with it.

Aditya was the first member of his family to travel to the US. Maa and Baba first came to visit after his older brother, Dada, also moved to the US, about half way through Aditya’s college career.

GG: Do you remember what you guys thought of the US then? What your impressions, your ideas of it were?

Baba: Actually, as far as I am concerned, when I came to the US, I was more or less not surprised. I knew the US quite a lot – from movies, from books that I have studied, and I expected it to be more or less like this. The only thing is that I did not expect the US to be so huge as a country.

Maa: Actually, when I came for the first time, my whole concern was for Aditya.  So I was not interested in how the US was – [I] only wanted to know how he was.

GG: Did you have any worries about Aditya being at a US university, meeting Americans, maybe dating or falling in love with one of them or anything like that?

Maa: No, I didn’t have any concerns.

GG: Did you think he would date Americans when he came to the US?

Baba: No, I never thought that was an issue. If I liked someone at the right time, right age, I always said yes. Of course, I had certain reservations, and that has not happened.

*waggles eyebrows at Baba’s phrasing*

GG: What reservations?

Baba: That is off the record.

<Aditya laughs>

For the record, I still haven’t heard what the reservations were.

GG: Were you aware of his social activities when he was at the university?

Baba: Yes, he used to write, sometimes spoke to his mother… not to me. From what I could gather, I figured I had a fairly good idea of his activities. Of course, some of it was my imagination…

Maa: Nah, I knew only the portion that he used to tell us. But I [only] know half of it.

GG: So you knew that he had… (to Aditya) how many girlfriends was it?

Aditya: I told them…

Eight girlfriends his first year, I believe, (EIGHT!) and he tossed them all in two weeks or less. Shameless.

Baba: Yeah, he had many [girlfriends] in Delhi also…

Maa: Actually, we are not very much, uh, concerned with children’s girlfriends or boyfriends.

Baba: As long as you are not doing anything wrong, if your aim, your studies are going properly, I think that there is nothing wrong in having girlfriends. How you take that relation matters… Like, I had in India at one time I knew a lot of girls – and of course, my parents were also very liberal. Even today, if I meet them, if I get a chance to meet them, there’s nothing wrong in this, I always felt. Yes, if somebody has some bad intention, that is different. For that…

Maa: Nah, it is very natural. There is nothing to worry about. If I know my children, they will choose the right thing.

Baba: No, as long as a child knows what is right or wrong, there is no need for the parent to worry. And I, at least, have the confidence in my children; they can recognize right.

Maa: And in that way my impression of Aditya is very high.

Baba: That every mother has!

Maa: Nah, he’s a moralist type.

Baba: Yes, he’s a moralist type.

I suspect – but do not know one way or another for sure – that the attitude that Maa & Baba express here is pretty unusual for mainstream Indian culture. Heck, I suspect it’s pretty unusual for the majority of American parents of teenagers too. Anyways, with the basics of Maa & Baba’s views on dating established, we now changed tacks to start discussing Aditya’s relationship with me, which was more serious than those with previous girlfriends (i.e. I lasted more than two weeks).

GG: Do you remember when he told you he was dating me? Do you remember what he said?

Baba: Yes.

Maa: Yes. When you two had some difference of opinion, and I told him that this girl is a … in our language, Saraswati, it means goddess of learning – she looks like that.

Aditya: This was when we were broken up.

Baba: Maa said that you better make up!

You can read my take on first meeting Aditya’s parents here. In short, when I first met Maa, Aditya and I had downgraded our relationship to “an icy friendship” due to quarreling too much.

Aditya: By the way, the only reason that Baba and I didn’t talk over the phone while I was at the university was because Baba telephone conversations are always telegraphic.

<general laughter >

The first question he asks you is “How are you?”, and by the time you have said, “I’m good” the conversation is over and the phone has been hung up.

Maa: [He’s like that] with everybody.

Yes, yes he is.

Aditya: Yes, with everybody. When we were growing up… I mean, I don’t even know how common telephones were when they were growing up. When we were growing up, Baba used to be away, you know, and we had to do trunk calls. And in the middle of the night, it’d be super expensive, and Maa would be running down the stairs at 11:30 pm, because, you know, there’s a trunk call with Baba.

For Americans or others scratching their heads, a trunk call is the British English (and, apparently, Indian English) word for a long-distance call, especially one routed by a real, live operator.

GG: So what were your expectations for a daughter-in-law? Before you knew about me or anything – just general expectations.

Maa: I want only the good relationship and to look after my children – daughter-in-law or son-in-law. Look after my children, and a good relationship with us. Nothing else.

For the following anecdote, Bhabi is Aditya’s sister-in-law, Dada is his older brother, and Didi is his older sister.

Baba: You see, before Bhabi’s marriage [to Dada]… Bhabi was in school, Dada was in hostel, they had not met each other. They were in class 7 or 8. And she was learning some dance in Calcutta. She came to our house because Didi was in the same class – Bhabi had missed some classes, and she came to make up those missed classes. I was working away from Calcutta, and I used to come [home] during the weekends. I came… it was a duplex, our house was. I was climbing the stairs and I saw Bhabi. And when she came, I said, “Who is this girl?” And Maa said, “Didi’s dance mate.” And I said, “I would like to get a girl like that as daughter-in-law [for Dada]”… By God’s grace, that has happened. Of course it happened after…
<argument starts over how long >
Five, six years, let us say. So after that, I always expected that Aditya’s wife would be something like Bhabi. In all respects.

GG: Punjabi?

Baba: No, not Punjabi. I don’t look at Bhabi as Punjabi. See, this language or religion – I feel everything is the same. So I don’t look at a Punjabi or American or European… My thing is – “similar” means – she should be intelligent, sharing, and good in studies, plus she should be something where we are comfortable, my son is comfortable, and she should be someone who gets into a relation[ship] for lifelong.

Because there are a lot of cases I have found where people don’t – the girls or the boys – don’t think beyond certain time: four years, five years, ten years. But I always felt that my children should get a partner for the whole life. Not part time or, I would say, “live together” type. That is the type of girl I expected. She should be presentable, so that people don’t say – don’t take it – that she doesn’t fit into the family. I feel that that is a bigger thing, because I still feel family is much bigger than self. And that was what [were] my expectations, and I feel that I am quite happy on that one respect. The rest of the things, small things, would be different between individuals. Those better to not be discussed, because everyone has their own way of looking at things. But my general expectations for my daughter-in-law or son-in-law were the same. It is not that [the expectations] for daughter-in-law different [from] son-in-law.

While I suspect that Baba cares a bit more for what others think than I do, I must admit I was quite pleased with his perspective on this – I really couldn’t ask for a more considerate and reasonable set of expectations.

GG: What do you remember Aditya telling you about me before you met me? Like on the phone.

Baba: He didn’t tell me anything!

GG: Aditya, is this true?

Aditya: Because Baba’s phone calls are so short!

Baba: That has already been said. Whatever he said –

GG: But he went back to India one summer.

Baba: That is true, but Aditya is very close to – my children are all more close to – Maa for such things, for such topics. So they always spoke to her, and she only told me that much that was…

Maa: Screened!

<general laughter>

Baba: Yeah, little bit. I always got a filtered version.

GG: Okay, Maa, what do you remember Aditya telling you about me?

Maa: In 2006 when he came, he told me. And I told him it is okay, make your studies properly, and then you can do whatever you feel like, I don’t mind. And what else…?

Aditya: Nah, we talked about it when I was in Madras, right?

Maa: So long time back… That time I [hadn’t yet met] her, right? So I told [him] that I did not know what type of girl she is. I was not very keen… Hmmm… I am very scared that time, because he should complete his studies and things. Because in our [country], in India, a girl or boy’s future is very… We are very concerned about their future. All parents [are this way]. So I was a little scared that he may not—

Baba: – do well in his exams or things like that.

GG: Is there anything you wish Aditya had told, that might have helped your fears more or your concerns?

<general confusion over the meaning of the question>

Okay, before you met me, maybe you had some concerns… Was there anything that Aditya could have told you, that could have helped those concerns?

Baba: No, I don’t think with me [there were any concerns].

Maa: Yeah, I was concerned. Because he told [me] that you have some health problem. So I was concerned if it was very serious type. I don’t know anything. So I thought that health problem was very very… <worried hand gesture>.

I have a genetic blood-clotting disorder – which I only found out my freshman year while dating Aditya – which will be a lifelong concern, although it is perfectly managable with a little daily medication and awareness. At that time, however, it was a new-ish thing, and neither Aditya nor I were sure of how serious it would turn out to be. Luckily, it falls more on the side of, say, adult asthma or a severe allergy in seriousness than, for example, diabetes.

Aditya: See, part of the problem – the reason I spoke more to Maa than to Baba – [was] because I always did feel that… Baba and I had talked about things in passing, not detailed things… I always felt that Baba would be supportive, no matter what decision I took, you know? Like I always say, Sachin gets all this advice before he goes in to bat, and once he goes in to bat, it’s up to him, he has to make the decisions. And I always felt that Baba would be supportive over whatever decision I took. I was more concerned about how Maa would react. That’s why I talked more with Maa about it than with Baba.

GG: (to Maa) Does that surprise you?

Maa: No, [I’m] not surprised. But I was concerned when he said that she has some health problem – that was why I was concerned. But when I have seen you, I told him, that she is the best for you.

GG: Okay. Anything else that you thought when you met me for the first time?

Maa: I felt that you were very, um, that your approach was very nice. Your way of talking, your behavior, I liked it very much. Even I told my relations in India, “She is a nice girl.”

GG: So, on some of the blogs I read, some of the Indian parents aren’t very happy about their sons or their daughters dating an American. So people give out various advice, like “you should do this when you meet them”, or “you should do that”. For instance, one of the things that they advise is that you should dress up very nicely, maybe wear a sari when you meet the parents for the first time.

<Baba makes a wincing face>

Maa: I am also no. Even to Bhabi, I told [that it was not necessary] … You are an American girl, but even to Bhabi…

Baba: If my daughter can put on trousers, can go [out] in skirts, what is wrong with my daughter-in-law – someone else’s daughter [doing that sort of thing]. That is how I look at things.

Aditya’s parents are typically very pleased when I wear Indian-style clothing, but I have never felt any pressure – even while in India – to wear Indian clothing instead of jeans and a t-shirt.

Maa: Even to Bhabi I said that, you can wear whatever you like in my house. One thing I told her, when people from village come –

Baba: Yeah, social functions that is, it is better that you put on sari. It is not a compulsion [compulsory] to put on saris, she may put on salwar kameeze also. But [with a sari] that is easier to blend in, because everyone else will be in sari. If you come in sari you will feel a little [more] comfortable.

While I think you can fit into Indian cities just fine in Western clothes, I felt more comfortable – and slightly less conspicuous – wearing salwar kameezes or saris in more rural towns.

Maa: And, nah, one thing I told Bhabi, when people from villages, remote villages – we have got relations there – so when they will come it is better to wear saris. Because they will come for half an hour, for one hour. They will see that this girl is settled in [well] with this family, and their impression is good for the daughter-in-law.

Baba: Because I feel, that people should talk good about our, my family, and of course my daughter-in-law is part of it.

Maa: Even my daughter follows the same thing, it is not [just] for my daughter-in-law.

Aditya: Did you have any concerns, that, you know, other people, people who would be visiting from remote villages… Did you have any concerns that they would see the relationship as a bad thing, and would think less of the family?

Baba: Actually, in our family and among our relations, I have got the impression that generally I do right things. Therefore, in my house, if something happens – what I have accepted – generally the general impression is that that is right. So I never had any doubt that if I am comfortable, and if my daughter-in-law is comfortable with me, that others would have anything to say. So that advantage I have. In my family or my relations, I have a different, I would say, position. And it puts my daughter-in-law in a little elevated position.

Maa: In our family nobody told anything. Even neighbors… Well, I’m not really sure, I’ve never had any concerns [about what they say].

Baba: I have the one advantage that often, when things go wrong, and two parties speak, and to one party I have said okay, the other party, they also accept it. So that way, I know that if I have accepted something nobody would say or make a remark that would be negative.

Maa: Everybody says that, “If he agrees, than it is okay.”

Baba: I knew that my children will not make a mistake or take a wrong position knowingly. And if even they have taken a wrong position knowingly, I would scold them in private, but I would stand by them.

GG: Baba, do you want to say something about the first time you met me? I came with Bear [my father’s golden lab]…

Baba: Yeah, what I remember, is that I had my own expectations. And I feel that I was quite happy that you met most of those.

Maa: But not all…

Baba: Hmmm, but, mostly. Because one this is that you were very easy-going, you were not stiff, you didn’t want to show off, that is what impressed me most.  Generally what happens is that, I feel, courtship is a process of selling.

GG: To Aditya or to you?

Baba: No, anybody. Why? You see, when it is not marriage, it is courtship… I am meeting somebody for two or three hours. I put on my best dress, my best perfume, comb my hair thrice, twice shave. That is because I want to create an impression. But in married life, what we find, early in the morning before brushing your teeth you meet your husband. So that is a completely different [thing]. Before you get into that relation,  you are trying to make an impression – like packaging of any consumer goods… The packaging is good, you accept it, only after opening do you know, uh-oh, mistake, mistake. <Baba shakes his finger>

<general laughter>

Okay. Therefore, generally, when somebody comes on such thing, my impression is that they try to impress. If elders are present in India that happens. Like when I went to meet Maa, the whole family was looking at me [to see] what I [would] do.

Maa: But, you know…

Baba: That is different! We will talk to you afterwards. You will get your chance, okay!

<general laughter>

Anything that is possible! The meals that the would-be bride has not cooked, they are produced as if she has cooked. The handiwork that she has not done, they will try to [show it off]. And if she has done, they will come running, “She has done it!” They will make her sit…

Maa: Earlier…

Baba: Okay, nowadays they don’t do it, but something like it still goes on. Therefore, I always say, that salesmanship part of it I wanted to eliminate. After that, the person I can meet, he or she is the right person. When you came, you came like a girl next door, you were very easy-going, you didn’t have the hesitation for the first time, meeting a foreigner, [meeting] Aditya’s father, and when you have got all those horrible pictures of Indian in-laws…

<general laughter>

Yet, after that, the way you came and reacted was quite good.

I wish I had arrived like the girl next door – instead, I arrived a bit sweaty from the mile & a half walk from my dad’s house to Dada’s place, where Maa and Baba were staying. But Bear got a nice long walk out of it, and I got bonus points for bringing the dog along.

GG: And so what expectation didn’t I meet? Maa said that I didn’t meet all the expectations.

Baba: No, that is what Maa has said. I have not said it as of yet.

Maa: That I will say after the interview. Off record!

I ended up badgering them into telling at least one expectation I failed to meet “on record” – but that will have to wait for the next part of the interview!

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.

I’m a reporter with the Chicago Tribune’s RedEye newspaper, a daily aimed at readers in their 20s and 30s. I stumbled across your blog while doing research for a story I’m writing. I’m wondering if you might be able to help with the story, given your blog’s focus on intercultural relationship issues.

The story is about that stage of dating when you must meet your significant other’s parents. It can be one of the more stressful encounters for anyone, as you worry that they won’t like you, or you won’t like them, or that you’ll fail miserably at small talk. And it seems that dating someone from a very different culture can add yet another layer of stress. I saw some of the postings on your blog from people who said their boyfriend’s Indian parents were less than welcoming.

While my story isn’t specifically about intercultural relationships, I would like to include an example from an intercultural relationship, as I think it’s a somewhat unique experience yet something lots of people can relate to. Do you happen to know of anyone in Chicago who has had a particularly noteworthy meet-the-parents experience? Or is there any way to put a note up on your blog to see if anyone is interested in being in the story? It would be great to find someone who’s had an experience that represents some of the challenges and conflicts (sometimes funny, sometimes serious) that come up when meeting the parents, and how those issues were ultimately resolved. As I said, the focus of the story isn’t intercultural relationships, but I think it would be an important component. The story as a whole will tell the stories of several people’s meet-the-parents experiences, plus give some tips for a smooth encounter, such as: conversation topics to avoid; good ice breakers; how to deal with particularly touchy situations (very different political viewpoints, for example); how important it is for you to get along with your significant other’s parents in order for the relationship to succeed, etc.

Thanks so much for any help. I’d ideally like to talk to someone in Chicago who would be willing to have his/her name in the paper.

If anyone is interested, shoot me an email (gorigirl.admin@gmail.com), and I’ll pass along your contact information to Alexia. I do suggest you check with your significant other, and perhaps his/her parents first, though, just to make sure they’re comfortable with it. (I only caution this because I’ve run off half cocked before, sharing all sorts of news with others, only to get the stink eye from Aditya later for telling things he considered private. We all have different comfort levels regarding sharing family stuff.)

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.)

Personal News

1. I’ve decided to not continue with my Ph.D program in economics. Instead, I’ll be taking two more classes, then exiting with my masters. Obviously, this news doesn’t have too much to do with this blog, but it’s been a big change that I’ve been pondering over the past few weeks, which has sapped a bit of my creative energy. I still love, love, love economics, but I’ve decided the academic career is just not suited for my personality, interests, or lifestyle. Instead, I’ll do work that’s grounded in economics, but a bit more “real world”, and enjoy the fact that I won’t have to spend my nights and weekends trying to churn out research to get tenure. Plus: no horrendous job search at the end of five or six years of graduate student poverty.
   Intercultural tidbits: Aditya has been hugely supportive through this whole endeavor – first moving to DC with me so I could attend a Ph.D program, and now being completely cool about the fact that we moved across the country, just to have me quit the program a year later. His family has also been very understanding, even though I think they were looking forward to another daughter-in-law with a Ph.D. But they mostly want what makes me happiest, and understand that the academia wouldn’t. And this way my career is much more portable to India…
2. I’m still doing cool research this summer about India. While I don’t love research enough to do it for a lifetime, I do enjoy it, and I particularly enjoy the part-time job I have doing research with a European economist this summer. Get this: she’s married to a Bengali too! I recognized the golden wedding bangle she was wearing (a Bengali tradition), and asked. And, perhaps not surprisingly, her work has a focus on India. Simply put, the research is on how access to credit markets has affected Indian suicide in the rural areas – basically, when times get tough, and farmers see no way out, they often commit suicide. Access to reasonable lines of credit allow for a way out of the tough times, so you’d expect to see deaths go down as credit access goes up. Right now I’m just scrubbing the data (organizing it and making sure everything is right), but we’ll likely be running some regressions later in the summer to check whether the hypothesis is correct or not.
   Intercultural tidbits: pretty much all of it is intercultural and Indian – I’ve already developed a better “economic intuition” about India as a country by working through all the data.
3. I’ve gotten a great job. Apparently, economics Ph.D dropouts are a desired commodity on the labor job market, at least in the DC area. Despite the lowered economic growth (not yet a recession, though!), I was able to find a job very quickly as an analyst, partially due to a recommendation by a good Bangladeshi friend of ours. I’ll be working as in the field of wholesale power – i.e. energy markets – modeling how energy demands are changing in the United States, and what sort of resources will be needed in the future to meet those demands. It’s a pretty cool job for an economist, since energy is such a vital & dynamic part of any economy, and becoming more so. Plus I get happy feelings from working at a company trying to solve the coming energy problems. I’ll be starting this job this summer, while continuing to work on my research assistantship, and then will take classes part time in the fall to finish my masters. Should be a hectic time!
   Intercultural tidbits: I think I’m one of three or four white people in the (large) department. It feels like I’m back in grad school – or high school!
4. I just got out of the hospital – yesterday. Okay, this is a bit of a downer – and the reason I haven’t been around much this week. I recently developed, um, how did the doctor put it: “whopping big” blood clots in both of my lungs – i.e. pulmonary embolisms. Despite a bit of pain, I was never in any major danger, and I’m doing tons better now. The only downside is that, well, it feels a bit like I’ve transfered my mind into the body of an 80-year-old. I’m a slow-moving, slightly-wheezing, heart-racing lover of naps now. Seriously – I’ll sit down, and then, 15 minutes later, I’m out cold. Wake up an hour late, watch a few minutes of the Discovery Channel – then, whoop, I’m down for the count. It’d be rather amazing if it weren’t happening to me all the time. Luckily, this is a short-term problem, and I’m informed I’ll be back to normal pretty soon. Maybe not in marathon shape – but who are we kidding? It’s not like I was running marathons previously, either.
   Intercultural tidbits: again, Aditya has been amazing through all this: cooking, cleaning up, bringing me water, fluffing the pillows, listening to me whine between naps… His family has also been very concerned, calling several times a day from India to get updates and make sure I’m feeling fine. In fact, they’ve been doing a better job of calling than my own family has! (To be fair, Aditya’s family just talks more on the phone than mine does – and they like to keep in closer contact.)
5. Aditya’s parents are coming for an extended stay. This is pretty exciting news for us. They’ll be here for over two months this summer, which means we’ll have plenty of time to visit, see the sites, go on road trips, and the like. I’ll be writing more about this in the future, but right now Aditya and I are just pleased and busy with planning. We still need to purchase furniture (like, say, a bed) for the guest bedroom, and finish up with all the final unpacking around the house, but I think we’ll be ready by the time they arrive. They’re bringing curtains from India for all of the house’s windows, which is also awesome. I haven’t seen any of them yet, but I’m sure they’ll look great (Maa picked out the saris for my wedding too, so, clearly, she has good taste.)
   Intercultural tidbits: this visit will probably be a goldmine for topics and stories about our intercultural family, so look forward to it. We are!

Blog News

1. Skribit: from time to time I get emails from you guys requesting particular topics for a post. While I love getting those emails, I realize that not everyone has the time or energy (like the current, 80-year-old version of myself) to send off an email. So I’m enabling a widget in the sidebar, called Skribit, to allow you to suggest topics you’d like to see in the future without needing to leave the site. Just click on the “What should I write about?” section, then enter in what you’re interested about. And if someone else has already made a suggestion you’d like to see happen, you can vote it up. Or, you know, vote it down if you’re not too keen on the subject. I promise to listen to the voices of the masses, albeit not immediately. Gotta wait for the creative juices to start flowing (or for the napping to cease).
2. FriendFeed: I’m always finding a lot of interesting content, intercultural and otherwise, out on the internet. If it’s particularly amazing, or I feel the need to comment at length, I’ll write a blog post about it – but if I wrote a blog post for everything I was interested in, I’d be doing nothing but trolling the net and writing on this blog. So instead I’m putting in another widget which will show you the top of my “friend feed”: a list of all the stuff I find interesting enough to share, but not quite blog worthy. If you like something, and want to hear more about it, let me know (in the comments or skribit), and I’ll keep my eye out for similar material.

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.

Now that the hardest parts of that time are past, I realize I feel closer to R than ever. Previously I thought R’s and my love had capped off—that it couldn’t get any better. But after making it through such an ordeal I feel even more connected to R in a deeper, uncharted way for me. I don’t really use religious lingo that much, but I can say that having him in my life has been a true blessing and gift.

When I think about these crucial times in life, when pain is pain, hurt is hurt, and sadness is sadness, I realize love truly knows no boundaries and its what binds you. R’s parents both wanted me to know that they were sorry for my loss. When it boils down to it, almost every human can understand the language of loss and love. Unfortunately, the message can often get lost in translation.

Knowing that R’s parents got the message and responded meant a great deal to me. It meant more than their reservations and cautionary feelings about me. If they can acknowledge and understand my hurt in this situation, they will be able to in others as well. The story between R and I is a pretty clear one: we automatically get so many things about each other and just keep growing in partnership. The story between R’s parents and I may take some more time to unfold. Though it’s a work in progress, the story has begun and living it page by page has proved to be far more meaningful than speculating or bemoaning it.