Who needs meat?! Not me!

I'm a die-hard vegetarian...anything that runs, swims, flies, creeps, crawls, walks, etc, etc...I do not eat.  Ordinarily this is actually quite easy.  Being Indian there are plenty of veggie options and I live in a cosmopolitan city where finding vegetarian food is not difficult.  It's not always delicious or plentiful but it's usually easy to find.  But I struggle a little around the holidays because friends feel compelled to make vegetarian options but that usually means steamed string beans (did someone forget the flavor?) or mashed potatoes (fine but I'd like something not beige and bland on my plate please!).  And, I'm sorry, but Tofurkey?  Ew...No, thank you!

So finding a veggie dish that works well and fits in amongst the traditional holiday favorites is always always fun and a treat!  Well this holiday season, I decided to try my hand at a veggie version of stuffed cabbage.  No meat...just deliciousness.  And it was awesome.  Which was satisfaction in itself...getting to eat a yummy veggie treat while my friends were chowing down on meat and not being relegated to flavorless blah...but the BEST bit was watching my good friend, the meatatarian, take THIRDS of the stuffed cabbage.  Yeah!  If he can be converted anyone can!  Next stop - making a GOOD veggie burger that doesn't taste like boiled beans and nuts.

Confidence Must Be Sexy!

It's funny how in one moment your outlook can change so quickly!

At the moment, I'm carrying a couple of extra holiday kilos, the winter forces the packing away of all my alluring skirts, and I'm sure my nose gets a leeeetle bit red :-)  And yet, for some reason, I've been feeling good about myself...which, oddly enough, results in my feeling even better about myself!  Interesting cycle!

Strangely, it started on a day when I was feeling particularly down.  I was walking to work and feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders - behind in everything work-related, unclear about where my future was going to be, no romantic prospects on the horizon, and an interminable winter to look forward to (which I hate!).  But as I was morosely making my way, I suddenly decided right then and there that I was NOT going to be depressed/stressed/sad.  After all, I'm blessed with so much.  Instead, I took a deep breath, looked up and made myself smile.  At first it was an effort but oddly enough, within minutes there was a spring my step and the day looked good.

That change in attitude would have been lovely in itself...but somehow confidence really must be sexy.  Because despite the winter wear and the rudolph look, it seemed like I was now getting admiring glances from passers-by.  Ever notice that men only open and hold doors for good looking women?  Well, something about my newfound happiness must have brought a sparkle to my eye because all of a sudden it seemed like I didn't need to touch a single door.  And most importantly, my smiling exterior garnered me smiles from those I passed...happiness is contagious after all...making me even happier!

So for the last few weeks, despite being equally behind and stressed and despite the winter, I've been feeling fantastic and confident and sexy.  Which garners more smiles and admiring glances...making me feel even better about myself.  And that cycle seems to have translated into my romantic life as well because all of a sudden, romantic prospects abound as well...even thoughd I haven't done anything differently!  And in the "when it rains it pours" tradition, I also got an unsolicited job offer that would be a substantial promotion!  Very flattering!

Of course, some of this is my perception.  The smiles and glances may have been there before (albeit less frequently) but in my morose state, I doubt I'd have noticed them.  And perhaps the men around me are all very chivalrous and would have opened doors had I just given them a chance...maybe they even did and I didn't notice in the midst of my winter blues!  But I know it's not all perception...there definitely is a tangible change even accounting for the fact some of that change may be just the way I'm relating to the world.

I also know this is not a permanent guarantee for anything.  The job offer is in another city where I am not sure I want to live.  The romantic prospects are just that - prospects - and I'm awfully good at not following through at those!  And the confidence may wane as the stress takes over...it's all contigent on my maintaining this positive outlook.  But for now...I'm going to enjoy it all I can!  It's my new year's resolution.  After all, when you've got it...flaunt it!

So...my advice to anyone reading this blog...if you're feeling down, don't fret.  Take a deep breath, remember all you're blessed with and that there are others less fortunate...and smile.  If you make yourself smile for long enough, suddenly you really ARE smiling...and then the world smiles with you :-)

Ok enough cheese...time to go back to work so I can catch up and maintain the stress-free positive 'tude!!

Happy Holidays!

I'm not sure why everyone makes such a big fuss about which holiday you wish everyone.  Does it matter, really?  If I wanted to go around wishing for everyone to have a very happy Diwali, why would that be a bad thing?  Isn't that nice that I want everyone to have as good a day as I will?  So why does it matter whether someone wants me to have a merry Christmas or a happy Hanukkah...I'll take em all!  More goodwill, more good food, and maybe even more presents for all!

So...have a happy Hanukkah, a fantastic Festivus, a merry Christmas, a wonderful Kwanzaa, and most of all a fabulous New Year and even better year to come everyone!!!

Choosing to Love Your Spouse Forever...or Not - The Riddell/Partilla story

I was browsing the New York Times and saw this piece which has apparently been garnering a lot of attention about a married man and woman (not to each other) who fell in love with each other and left their respective spouses to be together...and then announced the story in a rather narcissistic fashion in the NY Times "Vows" section.  (Read the original article here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/19/fashion/weddings/19vows.html)

The article itself is clearly a self-serving, propaganda piece put together by the couple and aided by NY Times in a disappointing and uncharacteristic move.  But it's been very interesting for me to read it and read the responses to it.  Particularly, I was intrigued (read: appalled) in this whole notion that they "couldn't help themselves" because they were "soulmates"...after all "you can't help who you love"...blah blah blah.  Bollocks...bollocks, I say!!

Marriage is a choice...you choose to commit your life to another person and then you reaffirm that choice every day by choosing NOT to cheat on your vows.  Yes, temptation lies at every corner.  And yes, one can choose to give in to them.  But to somehow imply that there was no choice involved, that cheating wasn't cheating because you were under the control of an irresistable urge/love is simply denying responsibility.  It's as if a 5th grader were to cheat on a test and when asked why by the teacher he were to say - "well, Teach, I didn't mean to cheat, really I didn't.  But I just couldn't help myself.  The perfect cheating manual came across my path and it was really just so wonderful and perfect for me, how could I not use it?"

It is not wrong to be attracted to someone when you shouldn't be...that's innate biology and chemistry.  I mean, I'm attracted to Johnny Depp at some level and even I know that that's just plain wrong :-)  But I choose to suppress and deny (!) that attraction completely and totally.  It's the only responsible and smart thing to do!

Oh well...in the end, who am I to judge Riddell/Patilla's choice...their life...their decision...their idiocy.  After all...some might say what they did is incredibly brave...they're both trusting their hearts to known cheaters!

Why not ask? Why not tell?

The US government is in the final stages of repealing it's Don't Ask Don't Tell policy regarding gays serving in the military.  This was a policy adapted in the Clinton era as a step forward from the prior rules prohibiting gays in the military and basically stated that no serviceman should be asked his sexual orientation and as long as he doesn't say he's gay, he can keep serving.  But if s/he's revealed to be gay, s/he's out.

At long last, that policy is about to be replaced by the only thing that makes sense - no discrimination based on sexual preference, and no repurcussions for those who disclose their orientation...at least no legal/official repurcussions.

The nay-sayers insist that this will be bad for unit cohesion, especially in combat.  Well here's my two cents for what little it's worth.  Yes, perhaps at first there will be resistance and discomfort.  Perhaps there will be some difficulties at the unit level initially.  However, all change causes - indeed requires - perturbation.  Change is never easy or comfortable.  But eventually the troops that are uncomfortable will adjust, they will learn that their gay colleagues are no different than themselves in what matters, and most importantly that it is the desire to service one's country with one's life that should matter...not who one finds attractive/loves.  After all, there was perturbation when laws were first changed to allow African American's to serve in an integrated military...but the military adjusted and recovered.

The least we can offer those who offer to give their lives for their country is the right to live their lives openly and without forced lies.

Why are some men so stupid?

Not all men...I know many very smart, world-wise men who know how to take care of their woman.  But some men...they're just boys!

In the last few months, I was "set up" with a guy who seemed, on paper, to have great potential. Intelligent, well educated, career commonalities, similarly politically minded, likely to be progressive in his values as he was brought up in the US but still traditional as his family was very grounded in Indian culture, well travelled, well read, blah blah blah.  In short, possibly Mr. Right.

But he ended up being oh so wrong!  Yes he's intelligent and well educated, but from talking to him further over the last few months, his education seems to be a path he drifted through primarily through parental encouragement but without passion.  Yes he's similarly politically minded but that's really it in terms of his interactions with the rest of the world.  He reads, he watches the Daily show...but he doesn't actually talk to people or believe in learning from the school of life.  Yes he's done some interesting things like travel through India for a few months between school and grad school...but when you actually ask him what he did and why, he couldn't seem to come up with anything.

And unfortunately, he turned out to be neither traditional nor progressive!

Despite having a traditional family, he doesn't speak Hindi...ok so that's not a total deal breaker.  But if you can't speak hindi, how are you going to sit through the dozens of bollywood films and hours of music I do?!  :-)  He also knew little about our festivals/rituals...and more importantly didn't seem to have much desire to learn.  In fact, he was so minimally connected to his Indian-ness that, other than his name and skin color...and his parents...it was hard to tell that he was Indian.  He didn't really seem to understand many traditional indian values or morality.

But he didn't balance that with being particularly progressive, either.  For example, he had no sense of how to act on a date or how to romance a girl.  You do NOT ask a girl to coffee/dinner for the first, second, or third time by text message a half hour before you want to go.  No!  A phone call is best but an email is a good second choice if that's how you've been communicating.  Give her time to make sure she's free...and to get all pretty before meeting you!   Oh and seriously, the fourth date/meeting you suggest really shouldn't be yet another coffee date.  I shouldn't have to suggest that we graduate beyond that, no?  And when you go out to dinner with a girl, shouldn't there be some effort to the whole thing - pick a nice restaurant in advance, maybe when you get there order some appetizers, offer dessert at the end...anything so there is a feeling that you are enjoying and maybe want to prolong the experience...not get in and out like a dentist's chair!  You might say, it's just that he wasn't interested.  And I wondered about that...but he would regularly text asking about going to dinner with no prompting or encouragement from me (always with little notice or advance planning...agh!) so there must have been some interest there.  

Truthfully though, all his problems stemmed from the same basic thing...lack of passion and conviction in anything.  No passion for his job, no passion for any particular values set, no passion for the people around him and his relationships with them, no passion in his dreams...basically no passion for life.  And that's the biggest tragedy I can imagine...what's the point of living if you don't do it with conviction and passion?  So perhaps he wasn't stupid so much as pitiable and sad.  Because I would hate to live life like that...with no anchor, no purpose, no direction.  To quote Thoreau:

“I wanted to live deliberately, I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, To put to rout all that was not life and not when I had come to die Discover that I had not lived.”

Jetlag

It's been over a week since I got back into town...and still with the jetlag.  Makes me (almost) feel like vacation is not worth it.  I've tried not napping during the day and I've tried napping.  Medicating and not medicating.  Caffeine and no caffeine.  And still with the jetlag.

*sigh* perhaps in the next few days my body will find balance again.  In the meantime...anyone up for a late night game of scrabble? :-)

Outsourced: a mandatory review

Firstly, Happy belated Deepawali to everyone!  Sorry for the hiatus in posting but was travelling and working...have to earn my daily bread after all!

So...I've been watching this new US TV show Outsourced by NBC.  For those who don't know, it's a 30 minute sitcom about an American who gets sent to India to run an outsourced call center there.  It's based on a movie by the same name that came out some years ago.

I have to admit, I thought the movie was charming.  The characters had depth to them and the movie managed to hit just the right note of humour and romance while highlighting both the challenges and joys of cultural exchanges.  There were some of the expected jokes about the effects of eating street food on the unsuspecting traveller, the typical culture clashes and the requisite office romance.  But all done in a surprisingly balanced, funny, and cute way.  What I particularly liked about the movie was that it was not condescending towards Indian lifestyle and the point clearly was that once Todd learned to stop trying to push his own preconceptions and American ways onto an entirely different culture, and figured out that it has to be a two way street, he and his colleagues excelled.  It was a great lesson in cross cultural workplace relationships.

Ah but the TV show...so different...so disappointing.  I understand, of course, that NBC is catering to a different crowd than the small indepedent movie was.  They have to think of weekly ratings and have to keep an audience interested so they don't change the channel.  Well...it ain't working for me!

First the characters - I don't think there is a single character on the show that isn't a stereotype...although the saving grace is just that it's both Indians and non-Indians that are stereotypes...and I suppose that sitcoms rely on stereotypes to create humor.  But a little depth to the characters would not go amiss!  And more than just cliched jokes please!  And really really REALLY...couldn't they find actors who had real Indian accents?  Did the main female character really have to have the WORST indian accent ever?!  I mean, Apu on Simpsons has a better accent!

But the straw that broke the camel's back in my mind was the recent Diwali episode.  If you're going to make a show that is about a different culture, the one thing you cannot do is get one of the most important religous icons wrong...especially one as well known as the swastika.  The swastika used in the show is a left-facing swastika...rarely used in everyday Indian culture and religion.  While it has a place in Indian culture, it is not the primary symbol that we see in India every day.

And to top it off, on the show the swastika decorated wall hanging is up for about 3 seconds before Todd tells the workers to take it off because it is offensive.  They do tell him it is an ancient hindu religious symbol and was used in many other religious cultures well before Hitler ever appropriated it...but you can see in the background that even as this discussion is taking place, the wall hanging is being sheepishly removed and rolled up to be put away.  Isn't that exactly the wrong message?  Doesn't that allow evil doers like Hitler to win if we allow them to taint and destroy a beautiful, ancient symbol of all that is good in the world?  Of course we have to be sensitive to the Jewish experience and understand that the symbol carries with it a lot of baggage and negative connotations for many.  But does NBC really think that Jewish people will not understand and appreciate that just because Hitler used the symbol because it denoted luck, it is not a Nazi symbol in itself?  Should we not want to reclaim the symbol and bring it back to its original glory?  As the writer of this very nice piece on swastikas wrote "religious tolerance is the key to preventing future holocausts".  Read his complete post here:  http://www.luckymojo.com/swastika.html

But perhaps NBC is right.  Perhaps American viewers are stubborn, ignorant fools who cannot understand that the one group's evil actions should not penalize another.  That doing so is simply perpetuating more badness.  Perhaps NBC's way is the right way...

Or perhaps I'll stop watching a show that I find mostly annoying, often condescending, and occasionally really insensitive....even if it is the only show about (almost) Indians currently on TV.

Missing India...Missing Home

Lately I've been thinking a lot about what it is that keeps me away from India...why have I spent most of my life as an expat and tourist with no home country to call my own?  

I came to the US to study, as so many do.  And stayed to continue my training and eventually stayed because the job opportunity here was great...at least for the short term.  The experience I can get where I am now, the mentorship, the resume building are all unsurpassable elsewhere.  So it was certainly difficult to pass all that up when it was time to become a grown up and move out of student/training mode and into real job mode. I've come to love the city I live in (which I never though I'd say), and I've made a family here amongst friends I love.  I have a network of support and love that is fantastic...and freedoms to live my life in ways that would be unparalleled in India.

But it's not home.  

I recently went back to India for a wedding (what else!) and saw cousins for the first time in years.  So many of them have husbands and wives I've never met...kids I've never seen who are now 7, 8, 9 years old.  Engagements, weddings, childbirths, birthdays, and even a few funerals...I've missed so many important days and moments that I can't even begin to count them.  

In fact, at no time did I miss home more than I did in the last month.  And oddly enough, it wasn't because I wasn't there for a beloved cousin's wedding, or that I missed yet another niece or nephews birth or birthday.  It was because several family members got very sick...and I couldn't be there to help.

I'm in the medical field...and the only one in my family at that.  So I always expected (as did my family) that I'd be the family medical expert.  I frequently get calls about lab results, medications, medication side effects, etc, etc...most questions, in fact, completely out of my realm of expertise.  But I can look things up and come up with a cohesive understanding of most of what's happening and I can help my family understand and negotiate their medical issues to the best of my ability...a fact I've always found comforting, and gratifying.  After all, my family is a big reason I joined the medical profession so being able to use those skills and education for them is very very important to me.

But as I discovered recently, it's very difficult to do anything when you're on the other side of the world.  My aunt got cancer and I could do nothing to help...except try to be the one person with whom she didn't need to explain what a Portacath was, or what the staging of her cancer meant.  I would have liked to have been there with her when she got her first chemo treatment...or when the doctor was explaining the biopsy findings.  Or at the least to be able to be there if she needed.  But instead I just spoke to her on the phone.  A cousin got sick and I could do nothing...could barely sort out what was going on from far away.

And worst of all, my uncle ended up in the ICU and I was helpless.  Had I lived closer, I would have flown to the city and camped out by the bedside...been the one to talk to the doctors on the phone so that I could both understand and then explain to my aunt and all the rest of my family what exactly was going on with him, what to expect over the next few days, and what the medical terms the doctors were throwing around meant.  Instead, I was forced to try to understand third hand what the doctors were saying...or to have 3 minute conversations over a bad phone line with the physician and then try to read between the lines.

It's funny that as much as I regret missing all the joyous moments in my family's history, it's the sad, stressful, and potentially devastating moments that are really difficult to be far away for.  It's the feeling that I'm somehow letting my family down by not being able to support and help them as I desperately want to that's the worst feeling of all.  

And as a result...after many years, I find myself thinking that it's time to start figuring out how to go home.  To quote a song that always always brings tears to the eyes of Indian expats "bade dinon ke baad, hum bewatanon ko yaad, watan ki mitti aayi hai".  So...I don't know exactly how or when...but somehow, sometime soon, I know I'm going home.

South Asian Americans - Invisible minority no longer

Although Desis have become more visible in the US lately, we've remained a quiet minority...until relatively recently.  

For decades, we seemed to epitomize the Model Minority stereotype.  As a group, we're more educated and better off than Americans as a whole.  We worked as engineers, doctors, computer programmers.  We ran large companies.  We even showed up in movies and TV shows...playing engineers, doctors, and computer programmers.  And we rarely spoke up and made ourselves heard.  The model minority!


But lately, that trend has been changing.  


There are Desis like Nikki Haley and Bobby Jindal rising up the political ranks...granted they've changed their names and their religions so that I have trouble remembering that they are Desis, but Desis they are.  I may not agree with their politics but I appreciate that they provide a younger generation of Desi Americans the vision that they, too, can shape the directions this country takes.


There are entertainers like M. Knight Shyamalan who have enjoyed both the successes and failures of being a household name in the US.  And there are Desi Americans playing non-traditional roles in TV and movies - Mindy Kaling plays Kelly Kapoor on The Office, a boy-crazy, pop culture fanatic; Maulik Pancholy plays Jonathan on 30 Rock, Jack Donaghy's idolizing and vaguely homosexual assistant; Kal Penn portrayed Kumar Patel in Harold & Kumar, a stoner who goes on a hamburger hunt; Aasif Mandvi is a regular on The Daily Show, hilarious and brilliant; Padma Lakshmi, model and host of Top Chef, is not afraid strut her stuff in print and on the screen; the list goes on...


But for me the true mark of a culture that's finally becoming comfortable in its skin is when they feel bold enough to protest and speak out when disparaged or mocked.  Which is why I was so gratified and proud to see the response, a few months ago, to Joel Stein's article in Time Magazine.


Mr. Stein's article was meant to be a commentary on the slow cultural shift that occurred in his hometown of Edison, NJ.  He says he was trying to show how even he, an educated American who believes immigration has enriched this country, finds that he is sometimes uncomfortable and nostalgic when he sees the changes it has wrought in his hometown.  And if you read the article with a charitable eye, he does mock the anti-immigrant sentiment and himself throughout.  But the article falls just a little too flat and goes a little too far to have been featured in a magazine like Time.


Leaving aside the cliched jokes (yes, we have many gods; and yes, one has an elephant nose) and some unfortunate terms ("dot heads"...not a good idea to use a term that was once used by a hate group responsible for several Desi American deaths), what I really objected to was that Time Magazine thought it would be acceptable to run this piece at all.   Can you imagine an international magazine of Time's caliber running a piece in this era that makes similar disparaging comments about the Jewish community?  The Muslim or Christian communities?  How about Mexicans?  Or Irish Americans?  African Americans??!  If Time truly didn't think they were printing something objectionable, why did they choose to leave the article out of the international edition of the magazine?  


But hey...Joel Stein is, in the end, a writer and he can choose to write about anything he wants, and Time Magazine can print what they decide to...I never liked the magazine much anyways.  What I care about is what we, as Desis, do about it.  Which is why I was SO gratified to see the loud response from the South Asian community ultimately necessitating an apology from Time and Mr. Stein.  For me, it was a sign that we, as Desis, have truly, finally found a voice in this country...and I loved it!  So...thanks, Time & Mr. Stein, for providing such a great cause for the community to rally around.  Next up...Desi American politicians who actually retain some of their Desi-ness...and still win the election!

Homely?! I think NOT!

What is with Indians and our use of the word "homely" as a compliment?  I recently got a FB request from a guy who's reason for wanting to be friends with me was that he liked my "homely face".  Have to admit...I didn't know whether to be flattered or offended, to laugh or cry.

I know that in India, homely is considered a compliment.  But where I come from, homely means plain and unattractive...not a very effective pick up line!  I'm no Aishwarya Rai but "homely"?!

I did try to remember that for him this was a high compliment...that parents advertise for husbands by describing their daughters as homely (gah!).  So, I politely declined his friend request and pointed out that homely means very different things in some parts of the world and in future he may want to remember that.    

But to be honest, I wouldn't want to be considered "homely" even by Indian standards.  Homely in India means simple, comfortable, reminding one of home...perhaps even domesticated.  Is that really what I want a man to think of me?!  I suppose it is meant to be a compliment that I remind him of his mother and home but really...if I want anyone to think of me in the same thought as their mother, I'd rather it was a child and not a guy hitting on me!  And the other option is even less appealing - that I perhaps remind him of a comfortable slipper or a favorite pet.  **shudder**

Why must we describe our daughters, sisters, and wives with adjectives that downplay their beauty, intelligence, and ambitions and equate them instead with words that remind me of a puppy...or a comfortable but forgettable cushion we have on our couch?  If we must have matrimonial ads, why can't she be "beautiful", "intelligent", "vivacious"?  Even "warm" and "caring" would be great...but maybe it's time to leave the "homely" words at home!

Life as a Single Desi - Torn Between Two Worlds

There was a time growing up when I was the shining example my Mausis, Mamis, and Bhuas would hold up to their children.  Despite growing up overseas, I was always fairly traditional.  We spoke Hindi at home and I had learned to read and write it as well.  I dressed conservatively and always respected my elders.  There is a story my mother still recites so proudly to her friends from when I was in third grade and we went to visit some relatives while in Calcutta.  One of my cousins asked "Aap konsi class mein ho?" ("What grade are you in?") and I responded in hindi, "Teesri mein".  My cousin was floored.  He said no Indian child would actually ever respond in Hindi but would s rather ay proudly, "I'm in third grade".

But over the last few years, the luster seems to have dulled on my good-apple exterior.  You see, I'm over thirty and yet unmarried - unheard of and very very disturbing to my whole family.  As far as they're concerned, it's as if I've gone over to the dark side.  My mother is convinced it's her fault and she's a failure as a mother and woman because she has not married me off yet.  My father doesn't say it but is similarly dismayed.  And my grandparents....I think I'm causing them physical pain.  A great feeling, let me tell you, to know you're a source of pain and suffering for those you love.

It's not like I deliberately set out to torture them.  But I always felt torn between two realities.  Although my parents are quite progressive in many ways, when it came to boys they were always pretty traditional.  I still remember a classmate calling me when I was in high school on a weekend, probably to ask about a homework assignment...only I'll never know because my dad gave him such a scare he never called back.  Similar story on my first day of college orientation.  And even during college, anytime I mentioned a male friend's name in perfectly innocent terms on the phone to my parents, I could tell there was some consternation on the other end of the line.

The problem with being an overall good kid is that you always want to please your parents.  So is it any surprise that I never dated?  I came up with a hundred excuses anytime someone asked - "oh it would be a bad idea because we live in the same dorm", or "oh well you're graduating this year so what would be the point".  I even recall a friend, fellow desi (probably my parent's dream son-in-law), who I was very attracted to who was similarly attracted to me.  My excuse that time?  Well another friend of ours had a crush on him so I couldn't date him...of course not!  Forget that this mutual friend had a crush a week and he was the just the flavour of the moment!  It was a perfect excuse.

After all, a good, typical Indian girl does NOT date!  So how could I?  Except I wasn't exactly a typical Indian girl either.  A typical arranged marriage, which is how my cousins all found their husbands, wasn't really an option for me.  We were just advanced enough of a family and just removed enough from India that we knew it wouldn't work in so many ways.  Plus, given how much I had invested in my career, marrying someone who would expect me to stay home and cook and raise kids seemed like I would be betraying myself and my parents.

So...I couldn't date and I couldn't get married the way the rest of my family did.  Nothing new there...after all, this is the typical second generation immigrant conundrum: being caught between two very different worlds - those of your parents and those of your peers.  Is it any wonder I'm still single?

Yet it's still difficult for my family to understand.  My parents just want me to find someone, they don't care how.  I think at this point, they'd be fine with anyone I brought home as long as he had a Y chromosome somewhere in his body...they'd throw him a parade.  My extended family is equally frustrated and can't understand why the myriad of boys they've given my contact information to won't suffice?  How do I explain that I'm stuck between wanting a little bit of both worlds?

Yes, I want a husband and kids and all that...I want to make my parents happy (see how selfless I am?) and fulfill my grandfather's dream of going to my wedding.  I want to have children and raise them and be a good wife and mother.  I want to have grandkids someday and spoil them silly.

But it's not enough to be married for the sake of getting married...I want to marry someone I actually want to grow old with.  I'm enough of a traditional desi to believe that love grows and that it can be nurtured and cultivated as millions of arranged marriages have shown.  I believe that love is a decision, a choice, and yes, even a compromise.  You have to be willing to give up a little of yourself.

But shouldn't that be a mutual decision borne out of some understanding, some connection?  I don't mean love-at-first-sight, butterflies-in-my-stomach kind of connection (although I wouldn't object to that).  But at minimum a desire to pick up the phone and call the other person when something good or bad happens in your day....a tiny bit of desperation to see them and spend time with them every once in a while...is that asking too much?

I haven't completely given up hope of finding someone who meets those two criteria...but, to be honest, I recognize that it may never happen and I'm ok with that.  Because as much as it hurts me to see my family suffer, I know that I'd rather be alone than in a lonely relationship for the rest of my life...

Coming to America

As a rule, my memory is not the best and most days blur into one another...but I remember my first few days of college so vividly, it's as if they occured yesterday.

Although I am Indian by origin, I grew up as an expat from a very young age, attending an American international school.  Despite being surrounded by friends from almost every continent and watching American movies all the time, however, adjusting to college life in the US was, well, a shock.

I was prepared for the larger adjustments - the coed dorm with its coed bathroom (why why?) on the first floor, the free flowing alcohol at parties with a few token sodas for the token non-drinkers like me, the granola roommate who went running at 5am every day (triple why??).  After all, I watched the movie Son in Law with my parents two weeks earlier (more on that some other time!) so I was relatively prepared for the overall madness.  

But little things surprised me.

I spent the first month lost.  Now, anyone who knows me knows that I have a reasonably good sense of direction and can follow a map like nobody's business.  But still, for a month, I biked in circles and was constantly lost when in the car with friends.  Until, of course, the day I realized that street signs in the US are placed parallel to the street they name...whereas at home they are perpendicular to the street.  So I always thought I was supposed to turn when, in fact, I was already on the street I was looking for.  Many many circles have I travelled in vain.

There were other adjustments...I wasn't the only one in my dorm who had never used an ATM card or washing machine before, but I was one of the few who had never even seen them before.  And then there was the dorm cafeteria, where "vegetarian" was a dirty word.  I don't even want to think about the number of rice, corn, tofu and soy sauce meals I had!  Best weight loss plan ever.

But perhaps the hardest part of being here was always feeling a few steps behind in the conversation.  I thought I was familiar  with American pop culture.  I mean, I did go to an American school and we listened to American music and watched American TV shows and movies...or so I thought.  What I didn't realize was that the American shows I'd been watching were several years old and most of the music and movies were similarly outdated.  Episodes of shows that I had seen but weeks before were beyond even the rerun stage, and music that my friends considered classics were brand new to me.

I still remember sitting in the dorm lounge with a few other dormmates, working on some dorm project and feeling completely lost as the two sophomore girls were singing along word for word with a song on the radio I'd never even heard of (and that seemed to be playing over and over and over again).  Now I know it was the song Stay by Lisa Loeb and I could probably sing along to most of it myself even to this day.  But back then, it was like they were speaking another language.  Not only were all the jokes and references over my head, but I couldn't even keep up with the music??!  What planet had I come from and where had I landed?

Add to that the fact that I was far away from home and that, too, for the first time.  Other kids talked to their parents once a week because they didn't really want to talk to them more frequently...I did so because to call them more frequently meant paying crazy amounts of money in phone calls.  My peers went home for long weekends and thanksgiving...I never had that luxury because home was just too far away.  And the loneliness was...character building.

It took a few months but eventually I caught up to the references and conversation of my peers.  I worked hard at watching lots of TV and movies and listening to a variety of music...after all, I had to keep my learning priorities straight!  I found friends who helped me negotiate the bizarre world I had landed in and even to blend in (sometimes).  My roommate found a boyfriend and did most of her 5am running from his room instead of mine.  


Slowly, the memories of those early days slowly faded and were replaced by the usual college moments: piling 9 people into my friend's very small toyota corolla hatchback with three of us (me included) sitting in the trunk; pulling an all nighter to watch a movie marathon and then doing the same the next night to study for a chemistry test; almost falling asleep during a chemistry test; sitting in the dorm hallways talking about absolutely nothing for hours on end; jello slides and impromptu dance parties.

But every so often, I am reminded of that scared, lonely, fascinated girl I was in those first few months of college and am amazed at how far I've come.  I meet someone who has just moved here and see that same deer-in-the-headlights look in their eyes that I must have had.  I try to tell them to hang in there...it'll be fine.  But I know that nothing I say can take away the overwhelming fear and excitement they are feeling.  Only time - and lots of late nights with friends - will help them find their groove, their niche.  And one day, they will look back with laughter and nostalgia at the newness of everything that comes with being displaced from our usual surroundings, at being an expat.  Just as I am doing sitting here now.