Desi Mommy

India Olympic Sports

2008-08-17T18:16:00.006-04:00

"Where is the Indian team, Mommy?"

This was the question posed to me by my son who is fast approaching his 8th birthday. We are avidly watching the Olympics in Beijing and watched the opening ceremonies with eager anticipation of the United States team. The opening ceremonies of the Olympics have been great fun for us now that the children are old enough to ponder where in the world tiny countries like Eritrea and Andorra are. Admittedly we were channel surfing, having dinner, and otherwise not paying close attention, so we sort of missed the Indian delegation. We missed them, but I assured my son they were there. Just to double check, that night I googled Indian Olympic team and indeed there is a delegation of athletes in several sports.

We have been watching swimming, gymnastics, volleyball, and basketball, to name a few sports, but India is noticeably absent from these sports in which the US athletes excel. Traditionally, I explained, India has done very well in men's Olympic field hockey, but this year there is no team from India. The majority of the athletes are in track and field followed by riflery. The rest of the delegation are in boxing, judo, tennis, table tennis, and at least one person in sailing. Please accept my apologies for any sports I have missed.

It's a good question, really. It is a country that is known for superior academics producing scores of engineers, doctors, scientists, businessmen. It is a country rich with creativity and long cultural traditions in the arts, literature, architecture, music, dance, visual arts, to name a few. With it intellectual and natural resources, insanely large and culturally diverse population, one that values excellence in all of its forms, one begs the question: why are there not more Indian athletes on the center of the world stage?

I realize that many of the sports that are popular in the US and other western nations are in their infancy in India. However, let's discuss soccer, or football, as it is known in every other country on the planet. Soccer/football is a universally popular sport, played in virtually every populated country on the globe, with the notable exception of those who are busy at war, starving, or otherwise occupied. Nevertheless, the simplest of all games, kicking a ball and advancing it down a field around an opposing team to make a goal, is about as simplistic as a game can be. While India does not compete in the same circles as other soccer-crazed nations, there is a team that is deemed to be good enough to compete in the World Cup, so why is that team not at the Olympics?

Perhaps the issue is that the athletes are there, but they are not competitive on the world stage. At the winter Olympics in Torino, there were Indian skiers who apparently train in Russia. There is a possibility that someday we will see an Olympic figure skater from India. In 2007, Ami Parekh competed at the World Figure Skating Championships representing India, something that has never been done. Her story is somewhat typical of many skaters in the US who claim heritage from other countries. Train in the US, progress through the US competitive ranks, then skate for another country. It happens all the time and many skaters actually shop around for countries in need of representation in skating, regardless of their lineage. Not so with Ms.Parekh and her younger brother, Amar Mehta. Indeed, the way is paved now for figure skaters to compete for India. My hope is that this is happening in other sports.

For the record, Eritrea, is in Northern Africa, bordering the Red Sea on the east, Sudan to the north, and Ethiopia to the south. Andorra is an equally tiny nation wedged between Spain and France. As to the of whereabouts of Indian men's field hockey team, I can only assume that they have retired their sticks in favor of cricket bats, gearing up for the return of cricket to the 2012 games in London.

Quick summer snack

2008-08-03T00:44:00.006-04:00

I'll admit that this snack lacks in creativity, but I put it together in about 5 minutes total just to stave off the munchies and to avoid the inevitable requests for french fries at the snack bar.

Watermelon chunks, wheat crackers, raw green beans, animal crackers, Trader Joe's chewy granola bar, chocolate milk, and lemonade. Every thing is sitting on my very summery light blue and white seersucker napkins.

The green beans are sitting on the lid of the Sistema container because I made the exact same snack for both kids packed both of their green beans into one larger container.

This snack is a little higher in refined sugar than what I would normally packed. That is because both kids helped me pack it. My son got the granola bars out for both of them and my daughter got the animal crackers. Normally I would not let them have both, but my son, who does not overindulge on sweets, gave me the puppy eyes and pout, so, with an eyeroll, I agreed to include them.

If I had an extra few minutes to assess the contents before leaving the house, I would have likely included a little more protein, like some cheese or maybe some hard boiled egg or something like that. If my kids actually liked hummus, that would be a great choice, but they won't touch the stuff despite having tried it more than once.

It was quite funny to hear them discussing which salty snack to include. They considered their options and then my son made the executive decision and said, "Let's have the wheat crackers. They're healthy," to which my daughter responded, "Okay! I'll get the containers!" I'm so proud that they are getting the message about making healthy choices and that they know that it takes just a few seconds to put things into reusable containers.

The only waste generated in this snack was the granola bar wrapper.

This is what being Indian is all about

2008-07-22T22:38:00.002-04:00

My son recently completed second grade at our neighborhood public school. To be fair, our school district is pretty good. It is far from fabulous, but definitely high above average, so there is ample opportunity to get a good education.

In Mrs.C's second grade class, Zachary was one of three Indian children. One was one of the twin girls from Kindergarten and the other was a boy. Since Kindergarten, the Indian children in his school have accepted that Zachary is Indian, but they also grasp that he is half Indian. Althuogh he identifies fully with the other Indian kids, he still doesn't quite blend in with his comparatively fair complexion, chestnut brown hair, and Italian last name. Nevertheless, when he has rice with ghee in his thermos for lunch, he's definitely Indian.

As much as I had hoped for Zachary and the other little boy to befriend one another, it was bit meant to be. After some bumps along the way, by the end of the school year, neither boy had any patience for the other. Why might one ask? One word - competition. Zachary is pretty bright as is the other boy. Apparently the other boy had grown accustomed to being at the top of the class in first grade. Along comes Zachary in second grade and the top position is no longer a given for the other kid. So how does a seven- or eight-year-old react when his family's pride is riding on his position in class? Well you can imagine.

Each day there was a story about A. A did this, A did that. I tried to be nice to A, but he still said this, that, or the other mean thing. By the end of the school year, the two boys had resigned to loathe one another, which is unfortunate. The boy's father and I looked at the two of them and shook our heads in a bit of disgust. The father said to them, "I can't believe this! You two are supposed to be chums!" He continued, "Instead of being at odds, wouldn't it just be easier to be friends?" The boys both looked at us as if we had landed from Mars and shrugged, with wrinkled faces and muttered, "I guess so." Set aside your differences and get along? I think we have a better shot at being struck by lightning.

To be fair, I am all for competition among students. For those who are born leaders, it's a way for them to establish their superiority. For followers, the leaders set the bar so the followers can meet or exceed it. Zachary falls into the latter category. For the moment, he is definitely a follower. If there is someone better than he is, it motivates him to do better. He is happy to be in the pack, close to the front. I am hoping that he will find his groove sometime between now and high school and realize his own potential, but he is only 7.

And where was the other Indian girl throughout all of this? Natasha and her pal, a very bright first generation Chinese girl, merely sat and pointed and giggled at the two silly boys couldn't get along.

Summer Fun at the Beach

2008-07-15T21:25:00.005-04:00

We joined a beach on the lake in our town this summer and we have been spending our days relaxing, playing in the sand, and frolicking in the water. The other day, after some swimming and jumping off the dock with some other kids, my son came back to our spot, dried off, and positioned himself face down on our beach blanket, much like other sunbathers that day. I inquired about his intentions:

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Laying out in the sun, Mommy. I need a tan."

His skintone is already a nice healthy olive. "Um, okay, why?"

"I want to look Indian."

My husband and I nearly fell out of our beach chairs laughing.

Daddy, you're Indian too, right?

2008-05-10T21:56:00.003-04:00

Daddy: "No, I'm not Indian. I'm Italian."

Mackenzie: "Well, Daddy, you can be Indian, too, really? Zachy and I are."

Daddy: "That's nice, honey, but no thank you."

Mackenzie: "Well, if you're Indian you can be pretty like Mommy and me."

That's my girl.

Drinking Bournvita makes you more Indian

2008-04-15T11:35:00.003-04:00

I bet you didn't know that drinking Bournvita makes you more Indian. I love the stuff and could drink it every day.

Read this post from my other blog http://tastytiffin.blogspot.com/2008/04/warm-cozy-and-chocolate.html

Career choices

2008-02-11T10:31:00.000-05:00

We are at the halfway point of the school year and we have started some discussions about career choices and options with my son. He is almost 7-1/2 and in second grade at a public school. He is a bright kid who, much to my South Asian pride, is good at math and science. He is also an excellent reader, good at spelling, social studies, language arts, and foreign language. He also goofs off in class, chit-chats, and is out of his seat a lot, but we're working on that...

As any Indian parent would agree, a child's education and career choice is of utmost importance. Aside from their practical value of providing a financial and economic stability in adulthood, a child's academic and professional success are as much a matter of parental pride as they are a reflection of parenting skills. Most South Asian parents consider academic and intellectual pursuits an investment in their child's future and are willing to spend top dollar to do so. A child who becomes a successful adult is a good return on investment.

Now that the tall one is in second grade, we have begun discussions about different career choices. Like any seven-year-old, when asked what he wants to be when he grows up, he'll eagerly state, in this order, professional soccer player, astronaut, and scientist. While I admire his desire to excel, the fact is that some career choices are more realistic than others, which is one thing that we will explore. Rather than be the parent to rain on his parade and dreams of becoming a global soccer star, I am giving him the opportunity to explore these careers and compare and contrast them in a realistic way.

For our 2nd grade career portfolio, he will choose a few potential careers and then research them at the library and on the internet. Identify the education and training requirements, both in years of education and any specialized schools and training required. Also find the potential income level of said career. Lastly interview someone who is in that field and find out what their job is like, what a typical day entails, and what they like about their job.

The objective is to provide him with a framework to make accurate comparisons between different professions. I think this will be a fun and valuable exercise, although finding a professional soccer player to interview might be a bit of a challenge. At the very least, I think it will can serve as an opening for more involved discussions as he moves ahead in school.

Rakhi or Raksha Bandan

2007-08-24T22:10:00.000-04:00

In August each year, Indians all over the world celebrate a holiday called Raksha Bandan or Rakhi. This is a festival that celebrates the bond between brothers and sisters. Raksha Bandan (pronounced RUCK-sha BUN-dun) or Rakhi (pronounced RUCK-ee) is celebrated on the day of the full moon during the Hindu month of Shravana, which is typically around July and August of our modern calendar. In different parts of India, Rakhi is also followed by holidays celebrating the full moon and pending harvest. This year we celebrataed it on August 28, 2007.

The important part of the holiday is when a sister ties a bracelet, most often fashioned from thread and adorned with beads or jewels or some other religious adornments, to her brother's wrist. The significance of this is that the rakhi is blessed and will protect her brother. The brother's role in accepting the rakhi is the promise to protect his sister from harm or hardship. In some parts of India it is celebrated with more religious significance in which the sister performs a Ganesh puja or another puja prior to tying the rakhi. This is done with the whole family present, thus becoming a family affair, and an opportunity to celebrate together.

Rakhis are traditionally given from sisters to brothers and can also be given to cousins as well. Historically rakhis can be given to anyone as an offer of blessing or protection or to anyone, including friends who might be considered close like family.

These days, Rakhi or Raksha Bandan is not only a major holiday, but big business as well. Kids are off from school and web sites are replete with gift suggestions, e-cards, and information about the holiday. The styles of rakhis range from the very simple cotton or silk thread to very elaborate ones made of silver or gold and adorned with pearls, diamonds, or other gemstones. There are whimsical ones intended for children complete with Power Rangers and Spiderman as well as very traditional ones featuring "om" or Ganesh.

Apparently the gift giving doesn't stop with the rakhi as it is now customary to include sweets or chocolate along with the rakhi. It is also suggested that brothers present their sisters with gifts as well of... get this... jewelry, trendy clothes, or purses. One web site encourages this and says something to the effect of, "Give your sister the gift of trendy clothes or the latest purse. She will always remember you and this special occasion when she looks so fashionable. What is that??? That's all my daughter, who at age 4, is already way too clothing and accessory conscious for her own good. I can just picture it now, "You know, you should really get me that purse or that outfit for this holiday. It's your religious duty to protect me, you know..."

Our celebration this year was quite simple and sweet. We shared the holiday with our neighbor and dear friend who performed the puja and recited the mantras and shlokas. There was some money exchanged in lieu of gifts, along with the instruction from our family friend that it should be spent on a nice gift. The rakhi itself lasted all of about an hour, at which point he determined that it was not cool for him to wear a colorful woven band, religious protection or not. Quite frankly, it got in the way of his wrist guards and he has to wear them while rollerblading.

While the little one did not score any Coach or Prada this year, I am sure that it is just a matter of time before she becomes aware of this aspect of the holiday. I might, however, have to limit her time on some of those Indian shopping websites, lest she is lured by the marketing.... At seven years old, my son's budget is quite limited, but he adores his sister, so this is something they will have to look forward to in the years to come. (Not that I am encouraging such blatant materialism, but if it's on sale, it is a holiday, after all...)

It's all about the clothes

2007-08-11T20:40:00.000-04:00

It turns out that being Indian has opened up a whole new world of fashion and shopping, not just for myself, but also for my children.

No longer is it enough for me to make sure that my kids are well dressed in American clothes, but they also have to be sharp and trendy in Indian clothing as well.

As a result I find myself combing through websites looking for nice Indian clothes for them on sale more and more often. I also check out the little kids' clothes when I am out at functions or events. The most fashionable ones are always the ones who have a family member who has recently returned from India or they themselves have been there recently.

It is entirely possible to drop a small fortune on just the right kurta or lehenga for your little ones. I just recently saw a woman and her three year old daughter sporting matching lehengas. Of course I became instantly envious that she and her daughter were so impeccably coordinated. Upon closer inspection however, while I applaud the whole mommy and me concept as applied to Indian clothing, alas the pattern and style weren't all that remarkable. I would have picked something different. Nevertheless, this sighting has given me another purpose on my shopping missions.

My daughter received the sari in this picture as a gift from a dear friend. It is perfectly lovely and she will get plenty of wear out of it since it is a little big. My son, upon seeing his sister all dressed up, quickly ran to his room and retrieved what I call the Indian elf outfit and put it on so he could play with her. His outfit, a gift from a well-intended friend, is not something I would have chosen, but it's the thought that counts.

I must say I did a pretty good job tying (draping? wrapping?) her sari, considering I have never done it before. Thanks to Utsav Sarees instructions I think I did a pretty good job. Fortunately she was a pretty patient model!

What's in a name?

2007-06-16T17:49:00.000-04:00

I think it was in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet in which Romeo waxed, "What's in a name?" and then something about a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet. Whatever. Romeo was obviously naive, probably sheltered, and wore tights. With a suicidal girlfriend and feuding parents, he had bigger issues than worrying about names.

My children have American names. Their first names are neither Indian nor Italian. My son's first name's etymology is Hebrew and can be found in the Old Testament. My daughter's first name is Scottish. Their middle names are both biblical as well. When they were born I was not into being Indian. That didn't happen until much later. I had pretty firm ideas of what to name my little ones once they were born. I did not want any names that were too ethnic souding - of any origin. I did not consider Indian names at all. To be fair, very ethnic sounding Italian names were out as well. I wanted American names, generic names that people could easily pronounce and spell. My mind was made up. It was non-negotiable.

Apparently in the non-Indian myopic and hormonally charged mindset that I was in during my pregnancies and after, I failed to consider the ramifications of them not having Indian names. It didn't really occur to me that I could have given them Indian names as middle names and used American names when it was convenient. Many other ethnic groups do this successfully. Koreans, for example, customarily name their children with very traditional Korean names that they use in the family unit. They also give their children American names that their American teachers, friends, colleagues, and business associates can use. Eun won and Jihoon are Evelyn and James to everyone who isn't Korean.

Other ethnicities do this too, such as Jewish families. I had several friends growing up who, in addition to having Western names, also had Hebrew names. This was the name that was used when they had their Bar or Bat Mitzvahs. I'm not sure if those names are used again at various points in life, but it's a nice way to honor their religious tradition.

I could have saved myself a good bit of hassle, and made my mom happy if I had just given them Indian names when they were born. There is really no good reason why I didn't do so, other than not being very Indian at the time. I could have given Indian names alongside their American names and giving them the option of which name to use when. It would have made more sense to do to that. None of that occurred to me then.

Fast forward and now that they are turning four and seven, I have searched through countless name databases and consulted friends to find the perfect little Indian names for my kids. The younger one is oblivious to of all of this. As far as she knows she has always had an Indian name. The older one is more aware that this is a significant change, something that is closely liked to his identity, something unusual.

So why now? It's a valid question. The main reason is that I am more Indian. It's trendy to be Indian. Aishwarya Rai is in Revlon ads and gazes at me with her green eyes every time I am in Target. Being Indian couldn't get much more mainstream than that. One of the main characters of NBC's Heroes is Indian (and good looking too!). There are practical reasons too. I want them to have the option of using Indian names, or not, as situations warrant. They have their American names to blend in with everyone else the rest of the time. If they need to be Italian, my husband's last name certainly fits the bill. Now, if they have to pull the Indian card for any reason, say on college applications, then they at least have it to pull. Granted this whole personal odyssey of becoming more Indian would been more convenient had it been a few years ago, but alas, that is not the case. Better late than never, I suppose.

Last, but not least, I am jumping on the renaming bandwagon. Many cities in India are renaming themselves to their ancestral names, now that the British have been gone for a while. If Mumbai, Chennai, and Kolkata can adopt new names, then adding Indian names to my children's names is okay, too, right? Sure it is... It's trendy!

So how Indian are you?

2007-06-01T07:28:00.000-04:00

If someone had asked this question of me ten or twelve years ago, the answer would have been a succinct, "Not very."

This is a way that many Indian mothers, of my mother's generation anyway, describe their daughters. For instance, my mom, speaking of her friend's daughter, "Oh, Rani? She's very Indian. She wears saris all the time when she is dressed up and she speaks perfect Bengali when I call."

I, on the other hand, wore a sari exactly once while posing for a photograph at age 9 in India. I never donned one again until I was well into my 30's. I wore a salwar kameez for the first time in my 30's as well. Despite having spoken perfect Bengali when I was a toddler and having perfect comprehension of spoken Bengali, I can barely utter anything beyond the pleasantries of saying hello and how are you. I sound like a tourist when I attempt to speak Bengali. I struggle to find the words, translate in my head as I grasp for the correct verb tense. Subject verb agreement you ask? I haven't gotten that far yet. My Hindi? Well, it is pretty much non-existent. The last time I attempted to say something in Hindi, I was teased mercilessly. I didn't even realize I was being mocked until the third time I attempted to say what I needed. Talk about a blonde moment. And religion? I couldn't tell you a thing about Hinduism. Wait, that's not entirely true. I had to read Siddhartha for a philosophy class in college, but that's it.

One must ask whether my parents are Indian. (They are.) Others might wonder if I even had parents. (I do.) So why was I so not Indian? It is simply because I am stubborn and my parents recognized early on that many battles were just not worth fighting with me. Smart parents, wise parents, parents who learned early on that confrontation with headstrong daughter was an exercise in frustration for everyone....

I was quite defiant as a teenager. While there were some good things that came out of that, such as self-confidence and self-esteem, I now realize that the downside of my defiance was that I missed out on growing up Indian. I was more interested in being a typical American teenager than I was in being Indian. I knew more about Benetton sweaters and Guess jeans than bindis or Ganesh. I had always understood spoken Bengali, but refused to speak it. I ate some Indian food, but I had so many food issues that my parents didn't waste much time or energy on that. I loathed going to the temple during the festivals even though my parents made every effort to encourage friendships among the other girls my age. Wearing a sari or a salwar kameez was not even up for discussion. I wore uniforms to school so there was no way I was going to be forced to wear an outfit that I didn't like, Indian or Western. I was quite a pain in the neck. Looking back, it's a minor miracle that my parents kept me around at all.

My parents hoped that I would have changed my outlook during college. I met a several Indian students, even a Bengali here and there. One young Bengali student whose path crossed mine had notions of marriage on his mind. He was smart, from a good family, a good student, high earning potential, etc. He was all of the things that any Indian parent would want in a prospective son-in-law. Unfortunately, he had me mistaken for someone who was actually Indian. If I had considered embracing Indian culture at that time, the fact that my parents liked him and considered him a good candidate for marriage definitely made me bolt at full speed in the opposite direction.

Fate had other plans for me and marriage as I ended up marrying someone who was (gasp!) American. My husband is second generation Italian-American and had some rather strange, but well-entrenched opinions about Indian people. That was fine because my mom had some opinons of her own with the fact that he was Italian. Think of The Godfather movies and you can imagine what was going through her mind. Nevertheless, I wasn't very Indian, and he was not stereotypically Italian, so it wasn't an issue.

Fast forward several years and two children later, and even as India's meteoric rise as an economic power was as frequently in the news as Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky, I still shied away from all things Indian. I was always proud to see a story on the news about India or to read an article in the newspaper or a magazine, but I still wasn't ready to embrace my Indianness.

When I started working for a friend who owned an event planning business which was primarily planning and coordinating Indian weddings, it became clear just how Indian I wasn't. She needed help and it sounded like fun, so I wore a sari for the first time and pretended to be Indian. It was then that I realized how completely out of touch I was with my own culture. It was even a bit embarrassing.

One would think that my epiphany would have happened then, but it didn't. It was when I started to teach my son how to count in Bengali. We got to ten and then he asked, "Mommy, what's eleven?" and I didn't know. It was then that I realized that I knew nothing about being Indian. How could I possibly teach my children how to be Indian when I was Indian in name and appearance only? That was when I had my moment of clarity. I realized that I am the primary connection that they have to their heritage. Fortunately, and god willing, my mother is still alive and well, but she is several hours away. Good relationships with grandparents or relatives from an older generation are a wonderful way for children to appreciate and learn cultural traditions and values, but parents still leave the most significant impression on children, for better or worse.

As a result I have gone through somewhat of a personal renaissance in the past few years. I have embraced my heritage wholeheartedly, learning about the rich and interesting culture that is my heritage truly for the first time. Through my job I have had the opportunity to really experience Indian culture from a new perspective. I am learning about the diversity of the culture, food, and religions of India all the time. I want my children to be as Indian as they can, so the best way to do that is for me to be as Indian as I can. I have to set a good example, be a role model, all of that parental responsibility stuff.

I don't really cook, but I am learning to make some Indian food. We are very spoiled in that we live near some superb Indian restaurants. The takeout menu is in my purse at all times. The number is programmed into my contact list on my cell phone. I have grown to appreciate the Hindi music that streams into our living room on cable. I'm not much of a fan of the old stuff, but I love bhangra, hip hop, and popular music. My kids have an appreciation for it too and walk around the house humming Hindi songs or singing the Hindi lyrics as easily as they do the American songs they hear on the radio. I read the Bollywood gossip pages from time to time to keep up with the latest news on Bipasha Basu, Aishwarya Rai, Abhishek Bachnan, and Shah Rukh Khan, among others. I still can't tie a sari myself, but I can wear one with ease and I am up on Indian haute couture. It's a whole new world of clothing, shoes, jewelry, and accessories. What's not to like? FYI, if anyone wants to get me a really nice gift, I would LOVE a Satya Paul sari or an casual or western outfit from Maria B. It would be a really nice gift...

Now when someone asks how Indian I am, my answer is, with a pause, "Well, a bit more than I used to be." I still sound like a tourist when I speak Bengali, but now I can count to twenty.

You really ARE Indian...

2007-03-01T15:21:00.000-05:00

* Please note that all names have been changed for privacy, and to protect the innocent...

Last year when my son began Kindergarten I found that there were a few other Indian children in his school and in his class. I had high hopes for the prospects of his making friends with other children of course, but particularly with the Indian children.

As it happened, some of these other children already knew each other because they live in the same development and their parents were friends. The four children were comprised of a set of identical twins, Natasha and Asha and another little girl, Vrushali, who played with them and one other little boy. I thought that Z might have found a good friend in the other boy. He is bright, played soccer on an opposing team (and played quite well, as a matter of fact) and seemed to be confident. Unfortunately my visions of lasting friendship were dashed when it became apparent that this boy had some issues with wanting to dominate Z. This culminated in an incident in which the other boy snipped holes into Z's pants with scissors. Fortunately there were no injuries, but alas, the pants had to be trashed along with the prospects of lasting friendship.

In the meantime, the three little girls had established quite the little south Indian princess clique in Kindergarten. They sat on the school bus together, ate their snack together, and played at recess together, and rarely with anyone else. Some of the other mothers hissed in discontent, "In Kindergarten? Cliques? Have you ever heard of such a thing? Well, those girls moved here from the city with their parents, so they do everything early," were among the comments. Outwardly, I acknowledged some of their points and commented, "An in-crowd in Kindergarten? Well that's certainly unusual." Secretly, however, I was quite proud of them for drawing upon their ethnicity and for distinguishing themselves as such. Although I don't think that exclusivity is healthy at that age I privately wished I had such a strong support group when I was in grade school like that. My hope was that the other little kindy girls weren't whispering behind their backs and saying, "Oh them? They are the stuck-up Indian girls." I can see the humor in that in middle school, but in kindergarten, it might not be a good thing.

Z, being the sweet little boy that he is, decided that since friendship with Mukesh was out, he would try to become friendly with the Indian girls. He had an uphill battle, for sure, first and foremost for being so bold as to infiltrate the group and secondly, because he was a boy. These girls were not going to be willing to extend their attention to someone who wasn't one of them, and especially not a boy. The third obstacle, however, surprised even me. Z got off the bus one day grumbling that Vrushali, Natasha, and Asha would not let him sit with them or play with them, "...AGAIN, Mommy! And I did everything you said! I was nice, I was polite, and I asked nicely if I could please play with them." After another grumpy face and more grumbling, he said, "And there's more! Natasha said I'm not really Indian! She said I don't look Indian and I don't have an Indian last name, so I'm not really Indian! But I told her that you were Indian but she didn't believe me! I said, 'Yes I AM!!!" he insisted, and then paused. "Well, I'm Italian, too, but I AM Indian!!' "

It so happened that the next day was my turn to observe his class at school. No sooner than I had taken my seat, little Natasha came running up to me bubbling over with glee. "You're Z's Mommy? You look just like my Mommy! You really ARE Indian!" she exclaimed.

That afternoon when I picked Z up from the bus, he had a big smile on his face. I asked why he was so happy and he proudly announced that the girls let him sit with them and even play with them today. I said that was great and I was happy for him and that all of his kindness and politeness paid off. Then I inquired about what changed their minds and he said, "Well, Mommy, Natasha saw you in school yesterday. She came over to me and said, 'I saw your Mommy. You really ARE Indian! So now you can be our friend and play with us.' "

Ever since then there has been no question about Z's Indianness and he has been welcomed at the lunch table and at recess with open arms.

2006-08-15T09:40:00.000-04:00

This blog is about my kids and the fun and challenge of raising them Indian. This is particularly fun and challenging because my husband is Italian-American and his family is about as old-school as can be. That's definitely not a bad thing, but the cultural differences, among other things, are never short on entertainment value.

The title of my blog is Desi Mom. The term desi, literally translated, means in the family, and has gained popularity in recent years to describe the younger generation of people of Indian, Pakistani, and other South Asian descent. It is used in a similar manner in which Italian-Americans might use the term paysan. Desi has evolved to become a term to establish ethnic identity and common cultural values. There is even an MTV station dedicated solely to South Asians called MTVDesi. There is an offshoot of desi, ABCD, which is an acronym for American Born Confused Desi. Native born South Asians coined this phrase to describe their American-born counterparts who have readily assimilated into the American culture and have consequently contributed to the disintegration and erosion of their native culture. As it happens, there is also term for backwards and clueless native borns living in the states. It's FOB, or Fresh Off the Boat. It's all in good fun, everyone, relax....

Although I am a desi, the degree to which I am so is somewhat questionable. As it turns out there are different degrees of Indian-ness. From time to time my mom will describe someone as being very Indian, meaning they are on the ball with the language and culture and most likely know how to wear a sari. I am the first to admit that I am not very Indian. I understand my parents' native language quite well, but I can barely speak it and when I do I sound like a tourist. I don't really know how to cook Indian food. When I decided to cook Indian food, I had to call my mom and write down the recipes in detail. I have become better, although my repertoire is still very limited. I wore a sari for the first time last year at age 35. I put one on when I was 9 during a visit to India, but that doesn't really count because I had some pictures taken for posterity and promptly took it off. I have only recently begun to learn what the names of other Indian clothes are and have started wearing them to different events. Suffice to say that becoming more Indian has opened up a whole new world of shopping for me. Between the clothes, shoes, jewelry, makeup, and accessories, I need a whole new wardrobe. Gotta love that. I have never seen a Bollywood movie and I don't really listen to the music. However, Hindi music and Bollywood music and productions have become very mainstream and I am starting to gain an appreciation for them.

I am, however, without any shadow of a doubt, a mommy. My two children, Zachary and Mackenzie, are a constant source of laughter for me. They are bright, cute, energetic, and funny and they keep me on my toes. As a parent, I tend to get a bit obsessive about certain things, like academics, in particular. For the most part they are pretty normal kids, I think, and mostly well-adjusted. If not, they can get therapy when they are older. Doing the mommy thing has not changed me as a person, although now I have to cook, which is annoying sometimes. Otherwise, I am the same person I have always been, but now I have my posse of kids. Alright, to be fair, two is neither a posse nor an entourage, but they are almost always with me.

With the two of them, being Indian has become more important because I want them to know their culture. My parents would have preferred me to be more Indian, but I am pretty headstrong and persistent, and that wasn't me, not then anyway. Now it is important for me to be a part of the culture because it is my children's connection to their heritage. It goes without saying that they will know the Italian side of their heritage as well, but that is more readily visible and available. The Indian side is much harder to do, so I go out of my way to make it a part of their lives

Becoming a blogger

2006-06-05T08:25:00.000-04:00

Welcome to my blog! Now there is a sentence I would not have predicted typing a few years ago. The fact that the term blog has become a part of our vernacular is mildly disturbing to me. Have we become so fast as a society that uttering an extra syllable in the term weblog is that cumbersome? Was it really necessary to truncate the word to four letters and one syllable? Regardless of etymology, I have decided to jump on the bandwagon and become a blogger. It's amazing how many people have blogs. Are there really that many people out there who have that much to say? And, perhaps more importanttly, is anyone really listening and reading? I guess I will find out soon enough.