So, as most of you read, I did a lot of prep to meet R’s parents right down to stressing over whether or not to wear socks. It was a long, kind of quiet ride to (insert his parent’s state). It felt a little bit like walking a metaphorical plank unsure of what would await at the end. Anyway, we finally rolled into the driveway and I seriously thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest. His sister answered the door — she was sweeter than pie — but I could hardly focus on her because I knew the parents were lurking somewhere 
. Next came his mom — who I was told to call Auntie. I shook her hand and said, “Hi, Auntie, bagunnarra (not sure on the spelling but it means hello in Telugu).” She cracked a laugh at the use of my Telugu word and I felt a little at ease. Then I saw his dad and said “Uncle, bagunnarra” and he was pleasant too. We then went to go sit in the all white living room. White couch, white carpet, white tables, but no white noise. It was just really…quiet. His dad did ask about the drive while his mom darted to the kitchen. R has told me several times that his parents are really reserved naturally…so I just tried to roll and not be the big, loud American (though I felt whenever I opened my mouth I was about 100 decibels louder than everyone else). R has the most ADORABLE and fun niece and nephew so when things got really quiet you could count on his little niece cutting the tension with her amicable motormouth. Basically, I talked to her more than anyone else the whole weekend!
Though I wasn’t really comfortable with the over night stay thing R told me it was expected and after all we were in a different state. So I agreed and just pretended to fit in…
First of all, when not playing with the kids, there was a lot of sitting around in silence watching Telugu T.V. Second, for the first few hours, it seemed whenever I entered a room his mom dashed out of it. I tried initiating conversation about what I thought were the most benign things (spices, weather, etc.) but I just seemed to make her feel so genuinely uncomfortable in her own home I had to suppress feeling completely terrible and guilty about my even being there. I felt like the big, horrible whitey that just burst their untouched Telugu bubble maintained for over 30 years in America.
However, I hung in there. I plodded on, what other choice was there? After a few hours, R’s mom had opened the gift bag I handed to her when I came into their home and put the Indian snacks on the counter. She also put out the pretty candle I got her and it matched her kitchen perfectly. I thought these were good, albeit non-verbal, signs. When she came in I dropped, “You have a nice home,” in almost perfect Telugu, and she whipped out a laugh. That went over well but then it was, again, back to quiet.
I should say that R has told me for a long time his parents are simply very quiet, reserved people. This, I expected, but it almost makes you want to crawl out of your skin when A.) you know you are not the ideal–or even close to it B.) they’d probably rather not even deal with your presence if it weren’t for their son and C.) you just don’t have any kind of validation that all these things aren’t so true and maybe they’re willing to accept you when there’s no communication. It just kind of drove me nuts…but I worked it…I pressed forth and attempted to initiate conversation, help his mom in the kitchen, be cordial, and incredibly polite the entire time.
Anyway after what felt like an eternity of pretending I was cool with the mute parents while I played mostly with the cute kids, R’s sister asked if we wanted to go out shopping. R told me usually his parents hang behind on these things so I was like “Sure!!!” Guess what though? The mom came with too. So, again, my blood pressure would continue to persist at an all time high for another few hours straight through to dinner.
I should note that I had lovely conversations with his sister—she has the kindest heart EVER and we got long great. I feel a little guilty I didn’t revel more in this wonderful connection, but the whole parental issue just seemed to persistently loom over me.
So R’s mom and sister made a fabulous meal that I was very thankful for…it was tremendously delicious.
With R’s family, and I think more Traditional Southern families of his caste, acting sort of “under the radar” is protocol. R told me if I compliment too much or talk about my love for India too much it might be viewed as pandering or disingenuous to them. For example, R’s Indian friend told me, “Don’t be like ‘Here’s this great gift I bought for you!’ Just give it to his mom and walk away.” This mentality was quite different than from what I had experienced with my other Indian friends. Usually they are super pumped I’m into Indian stuff and we have a gay old time. But with R’s family, I had to kind of curb my outgoing, bubbly, excited self.
But when the opportunity did arise to be curious and ask questions about his family and the culture (which truly IS me) I didn’t pass up the chance. I had a brief, but very nice chat with his did about Hinduism which I was glad to have. However, then I worried I was talking to his dad more than his mom which I hear is another no-no (i.e. I hear this kind of thing can really piss some Indian wives off). I guess I justified it because I had tried several times to initiate conversation with his mom that ended up going no where.
Anyway, by the end of this day I was just pretty overwhelmed and exhausted. I felt like I had played my part, that I probably surprised them by simply being a smart, nice person, and R confirmed this. But let me tell you as soon as my head hit the pillow in my guest room (alone of course–R was in another room) I sobbed. I was kind of like: “Why am I sobbing?! I went over well, I think…right? I did well…” I chalked my sobbing up to just being able to finally let go, let down my guard, and feel some relief from a very pressure-some day. I could hardly sleep at all that night though. I remember just being kind of frozen with my eyes wide open, thinking: I don’t think I can do this every month or ever for a week at a time! Unable to get over this idea thinking R and I would be forever doomed, I drifted between sleep and wake.
The next morning I woke up with the same sense of despair and was unable to stop crying. No one heard, but I was buggin’ big time. Now I know this all probably sounds a little DRAMATIC but I’m seriously not used to this kind of thing. I’m not really used to having a sort of matriarch present where all kind of follow suit. This probably isn’t too uncommon, but R’s basically a teenager in his mom’s eyes and she sorts of dotes on him and calls him a lot to do things, talk to her, whatever. She of course talked to him more than me, and they did frequently talk in Telugu. That didn’t bother me too tremendously. Mostly I was just glad when the kids would play so I’d have someone to connect with.
Anyway, that morning I just sucked it up after a good cry and managed to suppress my inner thoughts: “I don’t want to go down there! I’m done hanging out! Why I am even HERE…REALLY?!”
R’s mom did make us a delicious breakfast and I even heard her say my name a few times–so from tepid to lukewarm waters, progress was made!! R asked her if she wanted to look at some of the pictures I was showing his niece of my niece and nephew and she did say my nephew was “cute.” I explained to her that my BIL is a computer programmer an my sister stays home with the kids to which she replied with nothing . Anyway, my cute niece and nephew pics seemed to sort of please her.
We left shortly after that. I said cordial goodbye’s to everyone with a hand shake. When I got to his dad I said, “Thank you for having me to your home.” He said, “Thank you,” and pulled me in for a half hug!!! I was like “WOW!!!! (only on the inside of course).” It just felt really nice to feel genuinely acknowledged as a legitimate human being. He also invited me to come back which really made me feel good (however, I couldn’t stop imagining how he might get reprimanded for it later–ha ha!). So when I got to his mom I said thank you for the food and everything and did the handshake. In a split second I decided to go in for the half-hug with her…I didn’t want to cause any controversy about doing the half-hug with the dad and not the mom. She led out yet another loud laugh (which now sort of perplexes me for obvious reasons).
Every time I tried to leave R’s nephew took my hand and dead me back to the living room to play–it was awesome–he’s such a cuuuuute little guy.
I suspect my connection with the kids, my gift, and my kind of my overall pleasantness went over really well with his parents. R did say that when his mom was on the phone with her family in India the night I stayed she told them I was “very nice and pretty.” So these are all good things…right? Overall, I think so…I guess I just have my reserved, cautious side too. I don’t know if I extended myself too far…maybe I went too far out of my way for people who well, really didn’t do so much the same for me (?). I tell myself to take baby steps and feel great relief I am back in my city, back in the wonderful bubble R and I share. I guess I just don’t know if the bubble R and I inhabit can last forever, either. And then what?
Last night I met a girl who is married to an Indian guy and we kind of had a minor bitchfest (not sure if it was entirely healthy) but anyway…she told me, “You DO marry the family. Trust me.” And while this scares the living shit out of me, I guess I keep going…right?
I want to definitely note that R parents are nice, dutiful people respective to all they have come to know–this is obvious to me and I genuinely believe it. And really, my issues with them are not personal at all . As dutiful, Indian parents they are stellar people by their community/cultural standards. But for me to personally exist on the inside of this context would require an awful lot of negotiation.
So, overall meeting R’s parents did not go spectacular but it did not totally bomb. The meeting was just O.K. (from my end of course–R thinks it went great ). Part of me thinks a sort of uncomfortable, turbulent first meeting is expected, unavoidable in this context. So I guess if I have one piece of advice for others it would be to know, going in, it’s going to be a tough 24 hours. But if you want to go forth with your guy, you do have to suck it up and do it. You will have to extend the olive branch, you will have to persist, you will have to be cool. As far as reconciling all this within yourself without feeling a little resentful… That, I’m still working through.
I’m confident I did what I needed to do for R’s parents this time. But I’m still not so confident I’ll be able to do everything I need to do for myself in the future.
