More to come!!!!!!!!!!!

Just an update from my world…

Life is good.  I’m going in a good direction career wise and just keep getting happier with R.  I think I’ve been through a pretty big learning curve over the last few years in trying to incorporate R’s family into my life (our lives).  Though I’m sure there are many more learning curves to come, I have a pretty good sense of the lay of the land now.

For the first time in a long time, I’m watching Indian documentaries and reading Indian literature with the same eager, open, and non-judgemental eyes I had before my relationship with R.  I take my individual experiences with his family less personal these days, and I just take one day at a time.

I told R that I couldn’t WAIT to go to India with him.  He was like “Wow!  That’s the first time you’ve said that since we met .”

Things always have a way of coming full circle don’t they??

Namaste!

I know a few of you might be still curious about how my relationship with R and his traditional Telugu family has been going, so I thought I’d check in.

We hung out with his folks, cousins, nieces and nephews for a good part of the weekend.  His dad and I actually had a real conversation which was very nice.  Of course I was paranoid that I was talking too much about myself, but R said it was A-OK.  I’ve come to realize that his parents really don’t talk that much to anyone and are really not used to discussing any topic that departs from the Telugu ways and family .  Though I still get a little annoyed with this, it’s not as bad as before. 

I think a major reason I’m doing so much better with his family is because R is pretty attentive to me.  When we are at family gatherings, he doesn’t babysit me by any means but he checks in with me, sits by me from time to time, and talks to me.  These are all radical things that many traditional Indian couples do not typically do in big gatherings.     However, one of the terms of my relationship with R is that I’m not marrying his family.  If all goes well, I marry R and by extension I owe his family some level of decency and respect.  But, his family is not my main priority.   So, I’m not going to entirely do the boys and girls camp thing at Indian functions either (i.e. I don’t marry the women!).  I’m in this relationship not for the family and culture connections, I’m in it for R.  Whatever I need to do for him I will.

I say that I will do whatever I need to for R because I know he will not ask me to do things that would cause me pain or make me uncomfortable.  As opposed to when we started this adventure two years ago, he is much more aware of my needs and I think has a genuine understanding of how I feel now. 

R’s mom also bought me a BEAUTIFUL present back from India!!!  It is an outfit called a tru-dee-dar (couldn’t find the spelling on the internet).  It is totally stunning and beautiful.  Though I really only say a few words to his mom here and there (exclusively about Telugu stuff), she smiles a little more around me and I think her gift is an incredible extension of warmth and caring.  I almost cried when she gave it to me.

And, I really gotta learn some more Telugu.  Sigh .  R has never said I had to, but even from the Spanish I’m learning, a few words, phrases, and most of all the attempt at a connection is an incredibly powerful tool when interacting with someone who was raised speaking a language other than English. 

Though I still get kind of annoyed with R’s family’s sort of “So what have you learned about our culture attitude?” versus “Tell me about yourself, we’re interetsed in getting to know you,”  I can tell they are trying.  Intellectually, I know this is hard for them–very hard.  Emotionally, I admit, I’m still a little like “get over yourselves!” 

All things considered, I feel my relationship with R’s family is moving in a positive direction.  I’ll sign off with a funny story…

One of R’s nieces asked if I had a baby in my belly because her aunts are pregnant (and maybe I’m fat, whatever).  I said, “No not yet…but I will be if R hurries up and marries me!”  Then his other niece says, “That’s what my grandmother (R’s mom) always says too!!!”  R and his cousin roared.  Perhaps R’s mom and I are more on the same page than I think! 

Hi!  It’s been a while. 

I felt inspired to write after a certain, mind-blowing concert R got me front row tickets to: Leonard Cohen.  The dude is 74 and rocking it more than ever.

Cohen is perhaps one of the greatest lyricists of our time.  You can read some great concert reviews by much better authors than myself, so I’ll just write a bit about how Leonard Cohen has affected me.

It’s funny that I’m reading the book “The Girls of Ames” around the time of the concert.  While the book is a nice, sweet read about lifelong girlfriends, it has acutely reminded me of my kind of loner, hanging out on the fringe ways in high school and in some ways still today.  These girls told stories of their first kisses, dresses, and dances.  It’s fun to read, but I can’t say I experienced much of that.

One of the best things I discovered in high school was Leonard Cohen’s music.  While all those perfectly natural coming-of-age things were going on around me, I was cocooned inside my room littered with art, various colors of Christmas tree lights, and incense listening to Cohen’s words and deep, drowning voice.  He really spoke to me.  I memorized his words, his poems and at different times in my life they have resurfaced and have fit into my life in surprising ways. 

I was into art a lot back then.  My favorite class was art and my teacher would let me listen to my headphones while I went at my own pieces in the back of the classroon.  He didn’t let everyone do this but I remember the sheer joy and loss of time I experienced as I made art.

I remember him saying I should really apply for an art scholarship, but I declined saying that my current profession was a much more practical option.

For me, there was no half-assing art.  It was something I would get lost, consumed in or it was nothing at all.  So I sort of gave it up and now only dabble in it here and there when I have a large chunk of time to burn.

And so, being engulfed in art feels dangerous now.  Like Cohen.  You can’t have-ass it.  You have to surrender to it, be it, entirely and completely.

They don’t call ‘em crazy artists for nothing.

So I ended up taking a more stable road.  Cohen reminds me of those passionate, dreamy, and intense times though.  Despite his admission to taking several drugs for anxiety and depression, he reminds me that thoughts, ideas, and art can sustain one for 74 years. 

At the end of the concert, R told me to get up to the stage to shake Leonard’s hand.  I made it and when Leonard paused for a handshake I said, “You’re amazing!”  He smiled the smile not of a crazy artist but a serene old man.  It was a thrill.

Thanks for one of the most memorable nights of my life, R.

I’ve been quiet.  I’ve been missing R.  He has been in India for almost two weeks and I feel like my right arm and leg are floating around elsewhere…

Thankfully, I have an incredibly busy job these days.  During the evenings it gets tough though.  I know, I know, I’m such a dramatist…but such is the torture and simultaneous joy of being in love .

I know I promised I’d write a post specifically on R months ago, but I’ve been hesitant.  A while ago R’s friend sort of asked us off-the-cuff, yet playfully, how things were going between us.  I remember being so ticked when R just shrugged and said “Ok, good.”  I was like, ”We are doing FRIKIN’ FANTASTIC?!?!  Why didn’t you tell your friend that?!” To which R replied calmly, “I know things are incredible..phenomenal…I just don’t want to anger the gods.”  Me: “WHAT???”  R took a deep breath and said something like, “I don’t want to draw attention to or brag about how I feel and how good we have it…it would be boasting and the gods won’t like us.  The gods appreciate humility and won’t strike you if you practice it.”  Maybe that’s just what I call another form of good old Catholic guilt, but I haven’t been able to shake this notion since he mentioned it.  Thus, I’ve hesitated to say too much, to admit, really, how happy I am with R.

Eh, for the sake of this post, I figure dealing with his family stuff keeps me pretty humble .  

R and I met randomly through a friend during unexpected circumstances.  I was about to turn in, two blocks from home, when R and my mutual friend called to invite me out.  I agreed and met R.  Turns out we grew up about 40 minutes away from one another in rural Michigan.  Then, while I was in nursing school, he was in medical school at the same college.  We had classes in the same building, brushed shoulders, but never met.  When I left the state for the big city to begin my nursing career he was at a hospital down the street doing his residency.  We shared the same friends and occasionally partied at the same clubs but never met.  It was only until we were a few states away that we met.  

We struggled through long distance for a year, had to break off relationships that hindered our own, and finally took a big leap and decided to travel Southeast Asia for 6 weeks.  It was the best 6 weeks of my life.

As I write this it was almost exactly two years ago we shared our first kiss.  The kiss was really an attack with more gusto and passion than I had ever experienced!  That night I knew there was something unwordly and special about him.  

We’ve gotten into a few horrible fights that I regret but I resolve to live with my mistakes and the inevitable others to come.  Though it’s painful, sometimes we have to forgive ourselves for being human. 

I get annoyed that I can’t function as well alone anymore.  My life, my heart is now indelibly tied to someone else..someone out there…flying thousands of miles up in the air.  The latter is much more unpredictable, it leaves me feeling extremely vulnerable and sometimes full on crazy.  But no one could ever talk me out of it.

Like everyone else, I’ve been through my share of crap, but I never could have dreamed I did anything so right as to meet R.  Sometimes I feel like the gods mixed up and somehow R just snuck into my life by some glorious accident.

Most of the time, if you can believe it, I just forget all this thinking and be happy.  Maybe this is our only life, our one chance, and if so, it’s not long enough to really think through everything.  Even if life were forever, maybe we weren’t designed to think through it all anyway.  

By some way, R has come into my life and made it feel like a miracle and a gift.  He makes me want to raise my head when I’m looking down.  I look to him to answer my never ending questions, to listen like a sage.  He’s my rock, my hero, and my man.  I love him crazily and completely.  I’ve probably taught him a few things too, but for me, he’s changed everything.  He’s the man I wish I had known all my life and can’t imagine spending another day without.  

This two weeks has felt like an eternity.  But he’s coming home soon, and so am I.

Thanks for all your great comments on my posts!  There seem to be many more blogs these days on Indian/American relationships than when I started looking a year ago–lots of good resources and perspectives now!

So I titled this post “adaptation” because I wanted to write about how the chips are falling on my end.  After having the chance to get to know R’s family a bit, asking more questions, and feeling many feelings (good, bad, resentful, surprised), I think I have a decent sense of where R and my relationship is headed.  After the big reneg on the India invite, the “make a commitment!” demands from his parents, and their general “not knowing how to act around me” I was pissy and mad for a while that they just didn’t “get it.”  Allow me to let you in to the nitty gritty thoughts that went through my head: “They live HERE, not INDIA!  They should adapt (or have adapted a while ago)!!” “Those damn bloggers on CBC were right!” “Why won’t all my experiences/knowledge of India/Indians WORK here?!?!?!”  Call it the eye of the storm, or hopefully adaptation in my mind, but I’ve managed to get past must of this exasperation.  Here’s why:

I called up about 4 friends and explained my situation, bitched and moaned after R wanted to go see his family again and I didn’t.  The first 3 didn’t know what the heck to do, but the last gave me something I haven’t stopped chewing on.  She said basically, “Screw ‘em!”  I was like, “What?!  I can’t do that I have to work with this situation.”  She articulated, “Listen I’m not saying you need to start WW III here.  I’m just saying you’ve worked it A LOT for his family, really gave it your all…now pull back.  If R wants to go visit his family and you really would rather not…don’t.  Just don’t do anything you don’t want to any more.  You’ve done the very best anyone could have in the situation.  Now just chill and only do what makes you feel comfortable.”  And she added, “Just focus on your relationship with R and that’s all you need to do.”

So I decided, no more extending my caring and concern for R’s family farther than I wanted.  That weekend I let R go alone to his family visit.  I stopped asking about how his family was doing all the time and how they were feeling about our relationship.  I let him have his time with his folks and did my own thing — and it felt great.  I missed him, but now that we have been in the same city for a while, the break was fine and I would see him in a few days.  And I didn’t care if his parents wondered why I didn’t come either.  I’m just going to let them think what they want, not let it bug me so much, and do my thing.  Before talking to my friend, it tore me up a little that his parents/family made me feel so uncomfortable to the point that I didn’t want to visit.  But then I just let it go and let R go on his own.  Same thing with the India trip.  After thinking about all the drama and scandal that it would have caused if I went with him “uncommitted” I thought I’d just spare myself some discomfort.

And I am prepared to take this approach in the future, too.  If things don’t change between his family and I R agreed that we would not have to live close to them and we can do visits every 6 weeks to 2 months—not bad at all.  Maybe they can stay with us a few weeks a year, too.  I can handle that in the future.  As I said before, it’s not that his parents are mean to me at all–they are very sweet, respectable Telugu people…it’s basically their lack of understanding Western style relationships that kind of gnaws at me.  But hey, every few months, I can handle that for my prince.  And, they will have to tolerate seeing their son hold my hand and put his arm around me in the future too.

So that’s pretty much how I envision my working relationship with his parents at worst.  And who knows, maybe it could progress into something more and different.  Who knows, all I know is that we are content where it stands right now and I’m rolling with it.

R knows his parents like me otherwise they would be causing a shitstorm in his life.  That’s promising.  Also promising is that his parents ask about me and tell R to say “hello” to me.  I do they same when I feel comfortable doing it–not because I have to or out of desire to please them anymore.  I have respect for his family and am always cordial to them.  I may have my feelings behind the scenes, but it’s not in my nature to be rude to anyone’s parents regardless how they behave.  This has been extremely helpful as well.

Those are just some tips and ideas for those out there interested.  R and I are doing great!  Lately, it has been wonderful just focusing on all I have learned through him and through our relationship.  I am very content and happy.  This is remarkable for me as I sort of have a restless soul.  Most days I am just thankful to have someone so caring and supportive in my life–every day.  It’s amazing!  And with that maybe I should write a post just about him…

I found the following quote on a site I used to comment on and still occasionally read.  It’s from someone named CulturePhile and if they stumble onto this site, I would be happy for them to respond!

“The thing is this; western Indophiles like all the artsy cultural stuff – the clothing, the dance, the poetry, the arts, the languages, etc, of India. But the day to day cultural grind – overbearing and smothering family and all that, na, we can’t deal with that. But that is the core of Desi culture.”

Before I met R, I thought I had a pretty decent handle on “Indian culture.”  I had BEEN to India for a month, lived with an Indian dude (among 4 other dudes) in college & met his family, lived an Indian gal post college (who is now a close friend) & met her family, and had read some Lahiri books.   I wouldn’t say I was a western Indophile, but I’d say I had a working knowledge of what “Indian culture” was all about.  And I liked it.

I knew the moms could get kind of crazy about their sons, I knew my Indian peers tended to be incredibly reverent of their parents all the while forging their identities in America, and I KNEW the food was, like, the best in the whole world. 

For the most part, the Indians I had met were Northies and sort of accepted/embraced America at least half way if they lived here.  From what I head, I gathered most Indian parents would like their kids to end up with Indians, but I had met a few mixed couples (and even Indian parents of them) and didn’t see there was too much strife.  My old roomate’s parents (the Indian guy) were probably not thrilled I was living with their son, nonetheless, they were incredibly decent and kind to me.  All I had to do was say I loved their spices and most Indians were putty in my hands!  And so it went with most of the other Indians I had met:  show just a tad of interest and they will give you the keys to their vibrant and intriguing castle!  This was true until I tried dating one of them… 

Specifically, **and this is important y’all**, I ended up dating a son from one of the most Traditional types of families in India.  R’s family are Telugu Raju’s and have an incredible amount of pride in their particular culture.  So much so, they don’t even really relate to what is going on in the rest of India beyond about 3-4 hours outside their small town.   They have lived in the US for the past 30 years…but not really.  R’s mom runs a very Indian household, they ventured back to India for months at a time almost every year, and only a few times has anyone non-Telugu been in their house.  His dad works here so he has sort of a sense of who/what Americans are but his mom has never worked & does not have this sense.  Also, they are Raju’s…yes Raju’s.  The warriers, the staunch Hindus (R doesn’t know one Raju who has converted to Christianity), the top of the totem pole in India.  So, suffice to say, as an extremely traditional family, they are really big on preserving their culture…and not really inclined to share it with anyone else.

So this was all news to me!  I had always known Indian mothers who worked, Indians who had friends outside their culture, and Indians who traveled.  Nonetheless, I kept telling R, ”Pish…I GOT this!  Don’t worry!  I know Indians!”

Like a lot of things in life, little did I know until I was on the inside of it.  Since getting over the initial shock between Indians I had known in the past and R’s family, I have learned to slowly work with what I and R have.  There have been times where I have felt angry, resentful, and that R and I really cannot work together because the family structure & expectations (a huge issue) are so different.  I began to think about Indian culture less intellectually and more how it made me feel.  Before, I had kind of a superficial working knowledge, but now I am really starting to *know* it in my heart.  Sometimes I still think it’s quite beautiful and other times I am totally irritated by it.  And I know now, I’ll never quite see it the way I did before. 

 As an outsider of Traditional Telugu, Raju culture, it can feel sort of lonely and more distressingly, it can make me feel disconnected from R at times.  As I have said before on here, I don’t know R when he is Indian R.  He has been better about showing me he’s the same R when he’s with his family, but at first it was very shocking.  It’s hard to keep trying to engage his parents in conversation and let them into the very modern relationship R and I have without getting blank expressions or under-the-radar-but-there disapproval.  However, despite these things, I am at a point where I realize there are lots of variations of Indianness, the cultures, social orders, and so on.  Through R, my knowledge of Indian culture has expanded ten-fold and branched out in ways I never expected.  The bottom line is, if I want R and I to work, I just need to make this one intercultural situation work for me.

So we work on it…slowly.  At first I put myself all out there for his family.  I “worked it” to try and meet them on their terms (bringing them a traditional (and pricey) gift, not touching R, speaking some Telugu words, keeping discussion topics to “Telugu” to not alienate anyone”).  I’ve also been accepting of the fact that I’m kind of a scandal right now since we aren’t “committed” (married).  It basically infuriates me that his parents think we aren’t committed to eachother when I know in my heart I am just as committed to him today as I will be in 10 years.  But I’d still go visit, put on a smiling face, and act accordingly.  Some Indian familes might have taken to my efforts more, but his really does not try and understand R and my relationship in “modern” terms.  Now I’ve decided to pull back.  I’m not going with R to his next family visit…not out of spite…but to give him and his family some time together.  I’m doing it to give myself some time and space, too.  If R and I do end up together we will always be doing things as a unit and though my level of committment remains the same, life will change for the both of us.  It will just be R and I to decide everything for ourselves.  He knows that, I know that, so given this, I do have some compassion for his family as the center will shift from them to us (not something Traditional Indians really welcome).

While I don’t think I ever was or am currently an Indophile, I have really learned a lot by thrusting my heart out there towards R’s parents.  And this has encompassed both the good and the bad.  When I really think about it, I wouldn’t have done it any other way.

On some levels, this holiday season has been a contemplative one for me.  Minus the “dance off” I engaged in NYE.  Anyway, R spent so much time picking the perfect gifts for me and one was a fantastic, inspiring book called, “Thou Art That.”  It is a collection of Joseph Campbell lectures focusing on how the Christian tradition confuses literal/historical aspects of the bible as being objective truths.  For example, he finds it absurd that people go out and want to find the *actual*, physical Noah’s Arc when the myths of the Arc live within us today.  Christ’s Passion and Resurrection is a process that rings true to our collective humanity–we all must die and experience rebirth on several levels to reach our highest potential.  Campbell invites us to contemplate on all the wonderful religious stories throughout time and their many, many mythological similarities.

Like me, Campbell grew up Roman Catholic.  Post-reformation, Campbell felt that Christianity broke into several forms of spiritually deprived, man-made religious scripts.  Later in his life, he did come to appreciate the rich symbolism in the mass and the Biblical stories that revealed deep human truths.  He had always revered the Latin mass and its uncompromising reinactment of the passion of Christ.

Campbell’s respect and love for Hindu stories is abundant thoughout his work.  He suggests strong linkages with Christ’s passion and the Hindu notion of karma and rebirth.  I am drawn not only to his perpective on Catholicism, but his love for rich Hindu stories, symbols, and traditions.

Of the things R and I have to work out across our cultures, religion has not been a big thing.  When I started learning about lives of the gods like Ganesh, Kali, and Parvarti something in me clicked right away: they were similar to the Catholic Saints!  The gods felt like a different version of my spiritual home.  When the reformers told us we worshiped idols in the form of Mary and other saints, Catholics remained rooted in their family of saints.  The saints, much like the gods, speak to our inner and sometimes opposing aspects.  The Hindus have strong, feminine gods, as do the Catholics.  Both traditions boast an entire family of those who seek or represent god often in human ways.  These characters tap into what Carl Jung called our collective, human unconsciousness.  The gods and saints represent archetypes that speak to the core of not just Catholics and Hindus…but to the core of humanity.  

Sometimes R and I get all crazy and talk about having kids and how we would introduce spirituality to them.  I have this idillic fantasy of having tens of children’s books scatted on the living room floor featuring various stories of the gods, Jesus, and the saints.  In each of these stories our kids would get to learn the great truths through vivid characters who soar through the air, sacrifice their body and blood, and take on superhuman powers to defeat the evils of the world.  Not one story threatens the other because often, they inspire the same things: duty, sacrifice, responsibility, love, and nobility.  Of all these incredible stories, people, and gods, our kiddos would get the chance to choose what character attracts…who or what inspires them.  What a grand thought!

I do not mean to make religion sound like a Lord of the Rings movie…but after all…the best things our hearts connect with are born out of great mythological truths and characters we want to be like. 

So whenever I think that Hinduism is far beyond my understanding, I just reach for my Joseph Campbell book and contemplate the heroic and noble stories of the gods.  They aren’t so unfamiliar afterall.  And, I’m excited for my children to be able to draw from these two giant pools of tradition.  What could be better than having this rich family of saints to guide one on their spiritual path? 

************************************************************************************

***This post is dedicated to CT, an enthusiastic Campbell fan.  Also, I forgot to mention a few other gals in an earlier post in terms of people who are super positive in the area of intercultural relationships: sf and GoriGirl.  Hope you are still reading out there!

Hi all,

I’m working on changing my page intro.  No more doings & undoings…too loose…vague.  I’m switching it over to intercultural relationships.  Big suprise right??  I’m thinking I will call it “The Milano has Landed!” ….one more blog on Indian/American relationships!  R and I frequently call ourselves a milano cookie (dark & white..get it?).  Thoughts???

Hopefully I’ll get to all this this weekend!  Cheers for the New Year!