[Was encouraged to share my narrative – it’s a little different than my usual posts here. Trying something new!]
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p>She stepped on the bus wearing a neon green kurtha top bejeweled with yellow rhinestones. She gave me this knowing look and sat down purposefully in the seat kitty-corner to me. She smiled. “Where are you from?”
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p>I looked at her skeptically. I hate being asked that question. She didn’t look desi for sure, just maybe desi. I always decide in that split-second after a quick analysis how I’m going to respond. “My parents are from Bangladesh.” I paused. I thought in that sassy way, if she’s going to ask, doesn’t that give me the right to ask too? “Where are you from?”
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p>”South Africa.” There it is again! Another one from the South Asian via Africa diaspora!
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p>She first asked if I liked to shop. I said of course, but you know, I’m a student so I don’t shop, really. She then proceeded to ask me for advice on the different malls and where I liked to shop the best. She then asked me if I did anything for Halloween. At this point I realized she was just interested in speaking to someone, anyone. So I told her I did do something for Halloween. I had gone to West Hollywood on Halloween night and partook in the madness that it is known for. “Did you do anything?”
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p>”Oh no, we don’t believe in Halloween. Or Valentine’s Day. You see I’m an Indian Muslim.”
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p>”Um, I’m Muslim too. It’s just fun to dress up.”
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p>I don’t really get what there is to NOT believe. And seriously, who doesn’t ‘believe’ in Valentine’s Day?
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p>She then asked if I was married. “Um, no, not married. I’m a student.” In typical retaliatory conversation style, “Are you married?”
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p>It was easy to open her up, though once she started talking, her thick South African accent had me leaning forward trying to decipher what exactly she was trying to say. She really did just want to talk, and asking questions for people like her is just an opening for herself to talk. She was like wealth of diasporic information just waiting to explode. I asked everything about her diaspora experience, and only stopped myself near the end of the bus ride as I realized that everyone on the bus was listening to our conversation.
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p>She had been born in South Africa. They had lived there for 10 generations and she really missed it- all her family lived there, her aunties, grandparents. She moved here 13 years ago with her family. She’s 35, and she’s married to a 53 year old man. An arranged marriage with a Muslim man from Bombay. She likes him ok, “he’s nice…” she said. But I got the feeling that she married late, and was simply happy to have found someone to marry her. She referred to her husband in more paternalistic terms, and kind of led me to think she not believing in Valentine’s Day had a lot to do with him. She got married here in the US (“Hotels so expensive! We got married in our big backyard.”), and lives here with her husband and her in-laws. She visited Bombay once with her husband, but she didn’t like it very much, “So dirty,” she said. The US was the compromise, but she missed South Africa, horribly.
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p>I asked her if she lived in Durban when in South Africa. She said, yes. But then she gave me this odd shocked look and asked how I knew. I mumbled, “Oh, I uh, study the South Asian diaspora
” she kinda just kept looking confused and kept talking. Later on she said something about how she felt so alone here, and how she hated Los Angeles. “Oh right, because in Durban it’s a tighter knit community and desis live in ethnic enclaves.” I realized then just how academic I had made myself.
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p>She got off the bus, and I didn’t get her name. I was left with only one question remaining – on the racial tension she might have experienced in South Africa, but I had been too nervous to ask because of how the bus riding eavesdroppers would perceive that line of questioning. I am reminded how I used to have so many of these identity conversations with random people- I had so many especially in when traveling in India when I asked everyone and their mother where their family was during partition. The stories I collected from that trip were rich in historical narratives worthy of Dalrymple.
It’s crazy, always, to see how easily people open up and share their whole story in a matter of the time of a short bus ride. Maybe it’s because of my fascination with the creation of political and/or ethnic identities in the desi diaspora that compels me to ask these questions every time my path crosses someone remotely brown or maybe it’s because I’m still searching for my own (hi)story. Whatever the reason, I realize that sometimes as annoying as the question “Where are you from?” can be, just sometimes, it is an open door to some very interesting histories.
whoever encouraged you to share this should be shot. sorry taz…you are just not a strong enough writer to pull this off.
Don’t listen to lurker. It was a very interesting read. Diaspora experience, desi political and ethnic identities, Dalrymple reference… can I be your groupie?
I used to resent that question too, but I have warmed up to it as it has led to many interesting conversations. Now when I sit in a cab, I usually ask the question first. (Though I’m not always fully honest. This is more of a defense mechanism to avoid unpleasantness. One parent is from India, other is from Pakistan. If the driver is Pakistani, I say Pakistan, but if the driver is from India or Bangladesh, I say India.)
(1) “Oh no, we don’t believe in Halloween. Or Valentine’s Day. You see I’m an Indian Muslim.” (2) thick South African accent (3) She’s 35, and she’s married to a 53 year old man. (4) She referred to her husband in more paternalistic terms
INTERESTING??
Err, umm … really, avoid people on the bus.
Hmph. Wow, “lurker”, what a stud you are to ‘tell it like it is’. Anonymously. Does it feel good? Yeah, give yourself a pat on the back from me, ok hun?
Fucking tool.
And I didn’t know you had to be a writer to share a story. Oh snap. I can’t write either. Quick, somebody shoot every single person that has ever prompted me to share a story on this blog!
Moving along…
Seriously. That’s exactly what I meant here. I used to hate that question; I thought everyone who asked that question was jerk who simply had to be making all kinds of assumptions about me. In hindsight, I realize that I myself was making [the worst] assumptions by thinking that way. Now I see that question as a chance to educate and be educated.
It’s all in how the question is asked. I think “What are you?” is ALWAYS an idiotic question. And I can’t be the only one annoyed by the grammatical incorrectness of the question “What [nationality] [race] [ethnicity] are you?” But I think that the questions “Where are you from?” and “How do you identify?” are totally acceptable if they’re asked in the spirit of humble curiosity.
Dude, how is that not interesting? Everyone has a story. It’s always worth it to hear people out, even if you end up deciding that he/she is a whack-job.
mr. lurker and waddup.. let’s see your ass get up to write something for everyone to read… yeah? didn’t think so…being anon, and hiding behind not even an email address..is just so damn chivalrous it makes me want to vomit..i don’t know if your mothers have had the ability to teach you, (that or common sense) that if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say it at all)), and also, if you are being critical to others, whether it be their writing, or anything else, there are tactful ways of doing so… I HOPE TO GOD both of you aren’t in a field of work where you deal with human beings, because that from what i read from above is pretty telling you both would be completely DISASTROUS… ‘maam you have cancer and are going to die… too bad’…
i’ve met some of the most interesting people on plane rides to lines at the amusement park…
everyone has a STORY… everyone. it just depends on how you perceive it..and what you learn from it.. and what you make of it personally… and different things interest different people…different situations affect a person differntly.. that is what makes the world go around.
not every piece on SM is going to please everyone. there are things i like to read and other things i don’t.. but i’m not going to say, ‘THIS SUCKS’ 1. it’s really disrespectful and hurtful 2. just really tactless 3. and simply just really mean
but come on folks–and lurkers…and waddup it takes courage to post a piece on here.. from how you are perceived to your so called writing style and intrepretation of events.. for that i give a huge kudos to all the writers out there..
taz: thanks for sharing your story.
god speed.
Tazzy Star, maximum respect. Thank you.
When it comes down to it, these are the stories I really care about. The stranger on the bus, the unexpected glimpse into another life, another reality…
The bus journey ends, but the brief interaction continues to resonate.
I’ll second what chickpea had to say! I have to concur with your subject, too, taz; I don’t believe in Valentine’s Day. I think there may be a cultural-identity issue there for more old-school immigrants. I, myself, just happen not to believe that St. Valentine existed. Sts. Cyril and Methodius, on the same day, are much more historically interesting. Love letters? Faugh! They invented a major alphabet! That said, I enjoyed this piece, Taz, I like hearing your narrative. Did you get a sense that Hallowe’en was somehow evil? My grandfather, a Mangalore fundamentalist, certainly did. He thought that dressing up as a ghould beckoned the devil. I wonder if your subject had the same leaning.
Good story, Taz.
I found two of her statements pretty interesting:
How do South African Desi Muslims whose ancestors went to South Africa before partition all end up referring to themselves as Indian Muslims? Is it because a lot of them went from Gujarat/Western states which remained in India? The Urdu speakers from North India who migrated to South Africa also refer to themselves as Indians. If their ancestors had stayed in Delhi/UP there is a good chance that they would have migrated to Pakistan. But they refer to themselves as Indians anyway.
…yet the Indians in Fiji refer to themselves as Fijians, don’t they? Can someone unravel as to why South Africa, & Fijian identity markers differ?
Nice piece, Taz. The two interesting points, to me, were in how necessary seemingly innocuous yet politically loaded questions such as “Where are you from?” are, and in how much people love to talk about themselves. Bus and plane rides are also always interesting times to brush up against someone else’s life, the random meeting and usual lack of consequences make frank discussions about ourselves liberating. Thanks for the tale.
I rarely read SM these days, mostly because comments get so enormous and are often filled with pithy e-peen gestures, like Razib’s frequent use of the terse “brownz” (sorry, buddy, I like when you post stats, but these one-liners do nothing to further a conversation) or people like lurker who feel compelled to voice their criticisms. Has SM started banning IP addresses yet? Because lurker seems like a prime candidate for such an action.
Hit me with your best shot, fire away.
Except that you’re using a disposable address, and it’s now banned. So talk to the hand.
I really don’t have time for this isht these days ….
Musings is my favorite SM category, and I loved this post, Taz. Interesting convo with teh auntie!
it really is mind-blowing to try to calcualte how many potential soulmates we brush past each and every day…. experiences such as this encourage us to ‘stop and the smell the roses.’ thanks for sharing.
a post on angryasianman 11.12.06 on the topic: Single Asian Female comic strip
I find myself having very interesting conversations with total strangers at least once a week. I guess that’s one of the many benefits to living in a city with a public transportation system (plus I’m not female, so I generally don’t have to deal with horny nutjobs). After the conversation, I often ask myself whether it would have been worth getting the person’s contact information. On the one hand, it might seem a bit wierd to ask, and who knows if I would actually contact the person. On the other, a person who can keep you entertained for a 30 minute train ride probably has other interesting stories to tell. This is all a bit unrelated to the thread, so I apologize, but it was the first thing that came to mind after reading Taz’s story.
I think the best thing abt SM are such stories. As someone who was was brought up in a very sheltered place (and not the USA), these stories really provide an insight to people who have grown up elsewhere…
I feel said for the lady…..loneliness is such a bthc.
And apparently we are never old/wise/mature enough to overcome it.
ok i know i am stating the obvious.
good post.
The points raised by Taz are pretty interesting but if SM will allow me to be a wee bit critical, I also think that Taz didn’t come off as a ‘strong enough writer’ in this piece. As it is a blog, one can always argue that the mudda here is to SHARE and nobody is that interested in being a damn good (or ‘strong’) writer etc. However, having read many well-written posts on SM, we tend to expect excellent writings regularly. Every reader does that. You have every right to shoo me off saying that I am not paying a penny for the efforts that you put in and that I am being too sour for my own good but again, SM is more like an online communion and this is just my humble opinion.
I don’t believe in poverty, hunger, or the tooth fairy. I don’t believe in a bad war in Iraq, communal violence in India, or oppression of the lower classes. I don’t believe in the nuclear bomb, Kim Jong Il, or that somebody is going to take my egg while I have my head in the sand.
I did like that Gods Must be Crazy movie though. That click language is good stuff.
for a moment, i saw the title as diarrhoea on the bus, and was intrigued enough to read. a quick page scan showed no trace of faeces, but the facetious writing made me read through again, carefully. thanks taz.
d
WTF! Nobody needs to encourage her to share. She shared because she wanted to and because she damn well can. Wake up under the wrong rock today? Jeez.
I enjoy conversations with strangers on occassion though as a NYker with already too much noise around me I crave solitude in the noisiest of places like the subway or bus. I generally avoid conversations except with the very old or the very young or of course the very cute and single.
I generally cringe at the “Where are you from?” question not for the “I’m from India” part which I have no problem with but mostly because I dread the long conversation that ensues from it. I don’t feel the need to discuss it and perhaps because I lived in India for 14 years I don’t feel the need to connect to strangers about my ethnicity.
If anything I crave conversations with old Americans because it’s like a lesson in history and I’m big on American especially local history. Interesting, though both our goals are the same.
The liminal space and time before one reaches a destination create a peculiar setting that reminds me of Fanon magnifying a moment, or ancient Greek art depicting not an actual event, but the moments right before the event, so that the reader/viewer must ponder the context of the action.
Transportation terminals are my favorite places to make connections with strangers. Everyone is on his/her way to somewhere else, for an infinite number of reasons. They’re on their way, escaping something, seeking something, fulfilling an obligation… terminals are, in every sense of the word, the cross-sections of people’s lives. Airports especially, because flying out of town/state/country can be a major life decision for people, and if you ever have the opportunity to find out where a fellow traveller is from, where he/she is going and why, you’ll always end up with a few jems of information (if you’re wise enough to appreciate a glimpse into another person’s life). Who knows how your life can change with these encounters. 15 years ago, if you asked my terrified Indian mother as she waited on layover in Japan with my sister and me where she was coming from and where she was going, you’d never look at arranged marriage, North Indian familial relationships, the treatment of women, outsourcing and immigration the same way again – trust me.
Not to mention what an impact anonymity has on opening up the lines of communication. I don’t know if the smartly-dressed woman sitting next to me is a trust-fund baby or a desperate woman about to be caught in a sex trafficking trap. I’m (mostly) free from the rules of hierarchy to treat that person as simply another human being.
. . . .
btw Taz, a minor note about my previous comment: I just realized my saying “I can’t write either” makes an unintended implication. Heh, I mean, I still can’t write, but the point is you don’t have to be some professional writer to write a thought-provoking post like yours here. So to echo BrooklynBrown, thanks darlin’ 🙂 And now I’m going to sleep so that I may be coherent enough to not make an ass out of myself again…
The points raised by Taz are pretty interesting but if SM will allow me to be a wee bit critical, I also think that Taz didn’t come off as a ‘strong enough writer’ in this piece. As it is a blog, one can always argue that the mudda here is to SHARE and nobody is that interested in being a damn good (or ‘strong’) writer etc
Strong enough writer to be what? To write for the NYT? Quit being so damn critical!
As Mark Twain said, Irony is not just what Ahmedinejad looks like.
JOAT…I cringe at it too because I find myself explaining how I am in Indian but was born and grew up in East Africa. Its not to deny that I am brown but to explain that brown people are like corn..they grow everywhere!
Nice post Taz. It reminded me of how excited I would get in my first few years in the US when I’d see an auntie with a sari on. The loneliness IS tough and I feel as if this woman you chit chatted with had made more compromises in life then decisions.
“My parents are from …” seems to be a great answer to give to anybody who asks the “where are you from” question. More of you kids should be doing that. Instead of getting pissy. As far as you who are twice (or 10 times) removed from the motherland… desi from ___ seems appropriate.
Taz, to answer your question, I don’t “believe” in valentines* day. My wife grew up here. So I have been dragged, kicking and screaming, along this particular path of assimilation. Xmas is another one. In India, my Christian friends would give us cakes, so that was a good thing but this whole santa claus business just irritates me. As far as halloween is concerned, going from house to house begging for candy is not something I would have ever considered doing. Ever. But so was eating cold cuts of meat and yet here we are.
Some of us do want to go gently into that night. Others like these and these want to fight, fight, fight.
35 year old “auntie“? Ouch. This board must skew younger than I thought!
This is a really interesting thread because of the title and how we connect to it. As ABDs we study Diaspora, we do things to stay connected to our culture, we visit the motherland, we “identify” ourselves with hyphens, but when someone asks us where we are from, we recoil and wonder if we want to have that conversation? Do people who have recently come to America feel this way too? Or those folks in other countries? I’d be curious to find out.
I also have felt this my whole life, people asking everything from “thats a nice name, what is your ethnicity?” to the very un-appealing “What are you?”. I do wonder about the people who come for the first time to Amrika. Often just hoping to see a face that looks somewhat familiar, hoping to connect with people in a land of strangers.When I am here, I identify with seeing brown faces, thinking of my parents when they came here and didn’t know a single soul and feared the loneliness of being away from family. When we first came here, my dad would meet other Indians at the supermarket and bring them over for dinner.
Surprisingly, when I was in India, if I saw another American (brown, white or other) I also wanted to connect with them. Interesting post Taz.
The above response makes me cringe because somehow by stating the above it seems you believe you are inherently giving up something that makes you who you are and losing your culture. Taking on the fun factor of other cultures or countries especially if you live in it doesn’t take away from what and who you are. I’m going to assume you don’t have a child because it puts a lot of things in perspective for you when you raise a child in this country if you are this closed off to something as silly as Valentines day or Halloween.
It’s not even the stating I’m from India that bothers me it’s generally the nosy conversation that stems from it. It’s when people start talking about cricket and Lalu Prasad Yadav that I can’t relate to. It’s the same when I say American and the first line of converstion is Bush bashing. It’s irritating. Again it’s about perspective. From the old it’s just inquisitiveness but generally you get the as Sriram puts it “horny nutjobs” who are just making bullshit conversation and I’m not interested in it.
I rarely read SM these days, mostly because comments get so enormous and are often filled with pithy e-peen gestures, like Razib’s frequent use of the terse “brownz” (sorry, buddy, I like when you post stats, but these one-liners do nothing to further a conversation) or people like lurker who feel compelled to voice their criticisms.
your critique would have more force if you didn’t act as if your opinion mattered that much 🙂 (and sorry, i’ve generally found you to be a pretentious prig, how’s that for unsolicited opinion?) i say “…brown” usually, not “…brownz,” for the record. you can use the search box and check.
great post…who gives a crap about writing…i was sucked in/interested while reading, that’s all that matters.
i love this line in the comments: people are like corn..they grow everywhere!
i’m gonna use dat! 🙂
I never take offense when someone asks me where I am from, but I don’t divulge much either. It’s only been 2 years since I moved to USA, so initially I always went with “I am from Hyderabad” with fellow desis and “I am from India” with international people. I never had conversations about culture though. In school, it’s more of a “What’s your major” kind of discussion, I guess. I just moved to Texas from Ohio and, surprisingly, now I answer that question with “I am from Ohio” to desis and non-desis. I go on to talk about how I love the weather in Ohio and hate the Texas’ heat, but never anything personal.
The reason why I am describing this is, I am sort of like the woman Taz talked to. I open up easily to strangers, but never about personal details. It’s always weather or bad roads (wonder why everyone asks me this question when they learn that I am from Ohio??) or Buckeye football. Cab drivers, mostly african or desi, are the only ones who ask me about the Kashmir conflict or such like and interesting conversations ensue.
I wonder what it would be like if I was in India and I asked some foreigner where he is from? It’d be interesting to know about different experiences in my country. On the other hand, talking to desis in USA is like looking into a mirror. All of us have the same experiences, more or less.
oh you bet… i get very excited when i see dem laydeez in sarees. it’s rather like clingwrap with the juicy bits exposed.
Interesting post, but I wanted to comment on this line specifically. I’m not quite sure what celebrating Halloween/Valentine’s Day has to do with being Muslim, but it was always tricky for me to avoid heated discussions with aunties/uncles on my celebratory plans in regards to these two holidays. I’ve always viewed them with a more secularist eye, which confuses those who see them as pagan/haraam rituals. I’m not sure if those same aunties have simply never celebrated “Valentine’s Day” because Uncle-ji is…well… just not buying into the American/commercialization aspect or what.
Thank yoooou. Bring on the calorie-filled chocolate hearts (which now apparently have a cardioprotective effect, may I add.)
P.S. Desi strangers asking you whether you’re married or not? How cliche is that? “Sorry auntie, I’m actually into girls, and unfortunately same-sex marriage isn’t allowed in my state.”
Hahahaha love it whether it’s true or not. That’ll put an end to the conversation. In a particularly cheeky moment I once said to a lady “I need to find the right father for my children.” She said “What happened to your children’s father.” I said “I don’t really know who their fathers are.” Yeah she actually physically got up and walked away hehehe.
I really miss public transport now. Thanks Taz for the post……
Hey Taz,
That was a really awesome post. I used to always shy away from asking people about their backgrounds and I also used to avoid answering when someone would ask me. But I’ve found that I really like to hear about other people’s lives because I think that everyone has an interesting story to tell. I loved this story that you uncovered. I’m sure that if she had stayed on the bus, you would have unearthed other gems.
By the way, keep talking and keep writing 🙂
Thanks kids for the encouraging words…
For the record – I do write quite a bit of narrative/poetry/spoken word (and I do identify as a ‘writer’), I just don’t do that kind of writing for SM. Here on SM, I saw myself as an activist first, writer second. I know that I don’t have the skills to write as eloquently as anna, or grammatical as Amardeep – but I do have the knowledege/research one gains when organizing for the desi community – and my blog post topics on SM were each carefully chosen as a result. If it wasn’t for ennis, i never would have cross posted this piece on SM.
Is it about being a strong writer, as lurker so wonderfully pointed out? Or is it about being a strong organizer, that writes on the side to educate her community? Sure, it’d be great to be both, but I definately see myself as the latter and hope that was recognized during this guest stint.
…..
Meenakshi had a good point. I totally would cringe at the question – but if I know I’m talking to someone desi, I’ll always answer like I did with this woman, Bangladeshi. If it’s an American, I’ll say L.A. If it’s an ABD, I’ll eagerly go into the complicated family tree in a 5 minute story, and expect the same from them. As a ‘progressive’ ABD, I’m acutely aware of trying not coming off anti-‘FOB’ as I know as most ABDs tend to do- especially in the initial “where are you from?” phase.
I found an Indian Jewish kid in class yesterday! His dad is Jewish, his mom moved over at 17 from India. He identifies as jewish, more than desi, we think. But it was interesting, because instead of asking the usual “Where are you/your parents from?” he asked me pointedly, “Are your parents immigrants as well?” I’d never been asked that, and not sure how I feel about it.
South African Indians’ community distinctions may or may not be analogous to other groups in the diaspora or in India. SA Muslims’ not celebrating Halloween or Valentine’s Day might not be some doctrinal statement, just the recognition that the holidays are the purview of some other community. Don’t forget that fun cultural/historical investigations aside, Halloween and Valentine’s Day are American commercial enterprises. No one in SA would know anything about them without the omnipresence of American culture and advertising.
Taz,
Don’t listen to the one or two know-it-alls that have fallen out of some tree in a forest where no one hears them. The story didn’t suck, and I want to read more from you. I’ve gone to writing school (not that this makes me an authority or even a good writer, but I have an opinion) and this post is ten times more interesting than much of what I read in my classes. It is not poorly written at all.
Thank you for sharing. It’s a narrative, true to life. If only the literary critics paid more attention to the content. (Is it their duty to scare away potential bloggers?) I like the way you responded to the woman in “retaliatory” fashion–it opened a conversation.
Taz, don’t bother about the trolls. Thoroughly enjoyed the post – and learnt something about you too. I thought your folks were from Hyderabad.
Taz girl don’t even justify. No need.
Absolutely. It’s usually not the “I’m from somewhere else and don’t follow the local customs” mindset as much as the “I’m from somewhere elase and don’t care for the local customs because I think they are foolish” that generally puts people off.
BTW will your lovely self be at the meetup Preston?
Why? It was no secret that I’m Bangladeshi!
JOAT: I was very resistant to the idea of xmas presents. My wife is into it. It is something that she had grown up with (along with valentine’s and halloween). So I gave up my resistance because I didn’t think this was a big deal. I had no problem giving gifts to children on xmas. I had (and still do) a problem with telling them that santa brought it for them. Or the easter bunny (or the easter chocolate bell in france according to David Sedaris). I did not come to this country as a young’un. I had habits and a belief system of my own and it was not easy to give up or to compromise. That was who I was. At that time.
All water under the bridge anyway. You missed the point. I didn’t eat cold cuts in India. Now there is no meat I don’t eat. And yes, I give cards and gifts (if appropriate) on the “days” of the year, presents on xmas, take my son trick or treating and hand out candy on halloween and if we are up to it, gather the family for thanksgiving (very rarely the turkey though, too much work).
Just going with the flow.
PS for Taz: If we put stuff out there for folks to read, we should expect some critics. The rest of the readers can learn something from constructive criticism. The operative word there is constructive. Pointless drivel from the likes of lurker should just be ignored.
Hey, JOAT. I’ll be at the meetup late, after the OSU/UM game, which starts at 3:30. See you there!
Interesting woman on the bus. These things stood out for me from a good post, even though 10 generations of her ancestors (250 years?? that is a long time) lived in SA, 1) she identified herself Indian Muslim 2) her desi accent 3) doesn’t believe in informal western holidays(I am assuming SA is predominantly Christian)
If she is really from SA then the community she lived there must be very very close knit community which is maintaining its identity even after generations. It is very interesting
JoaT,
That’s a very mischevious thing to say to an Aunty 🙂
I guess if you really wanted to kill off the situation, you could have supplemented it with something like “…..but Nisha and I are very happy together”.
It would be hilarious if you bumped into that lady at a wedding or some other desi get-together at some point, and she turned out to be a family-friend of your parents.
Reagrding criticism: As somebody who has had a new one ripped for him by peer reviewers (and on a committee), I know of what I speak.
“Don’t forget that fun cultural/historical investigations aside, Halloween and Valentine’s Day are American commercial enterprises. No one in SA would know anything about them without the omnipresence of American culture and advertising.”
i know christians – some american, some not — who do not celebrate valentine’s day and who see halloween as “evil” and worship of the “devil.” so an aversion to them doesn’t even have to come from an outside the culture viewpoint.
The chances of that are slim to none hehe however it happened to me once. I must have said something terribly inappropriate to someone and it turned out she went and told my mom. My mother’s response “You must have said something to her to make her say that to me.” My parents are occassionally tickled by the silly answers. Not all the time but sometimes 🙂