RAGINI- Growing up, I watched as many saas-bahu serials as I did Disney Channel shows. My iPod was an even mix of Jesse McCartney and Sonu Nigam. Both pizza and daal-chawal were staple foods in my household. Fortunately, my peers were very accepting for the most part, so I was never made to feel inferior for my background or culture. Because of this, I never felt the need to hide or suppress my desi heritage; instead, I flaunted it. As a childhood diva, I eagerly awaited World Week in school so I could show off my lehenga cholis, and I raised my hand more than usual every year around the festival of Karva Chauth so everyone could see the mehendi designs on my hands. In a school full of white students, I was the token Indian girl, the unofficial authority on all things South Asia.
Because I was so in touch with North Indian culture, I was ecstatic to finally see the real deal after eleven years last fall when my dad and I made plans to visit four Indian cities over the course of three weeks. Along with excitement though, I felt a hint of insecurity. Here in the US, my heritage was my defining quality, my unique thing, often even among my Indian friends. I was afraid that in my homeland, I wouldn’t be considered Indian enough. My suspicions were confirmed the moment I stepped off the plane as the relatives welcoming us at the airport spoke to me in English rather than Hindi. This continued throughout the trip as people made special arrangements for me, like making sure I had bottled or filtered water and providing me with utensils for dishes usually meant to be eaten with one’s hands.
From shopkeepers to family members, my behavior surprised everyone I interacted with. When I greeted elders by touching their feet and saying pranam rather than giving them a ‘sup nod, spoke to waiters in Hindi instead of English, and offered to show family friends the classical dance I was teaching back home in Dallas, it caught everyone off guard. No one expected a girl brought up in America to be so familiar with Indian customs or have such an adequate grasp on the language (listen, my Hindi was impressive for a US citizen, but that still doesn’t mean it was great). It was clear that I was out of my element in India, but it was not nearly as foreign to me as everyone had seemed to expect.
August 15 is a very special date to me because it’s the day that I celebrate my native country’s independence as well as my own. On this day in 1947, India was freed from the British, and in 1998 my mother and I made the journey from India to the United States. Although I left India at a young age, my parents spent my formative years instilling traditional Indian values and a love of my culture in me. Because I’m not just American and I’m not just Indian, it’s easy to feel like an outsider in both countries sometimes. However, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. It’s the blending of the values of both of my countries that has made me the unique individual I am today.
Because I was so in touch with North Indian culture, I was ecstatic to finally see the real deal after eleven years last fall when my dad and I made plans to visit four Indian cities over the course of three weeks. Along with excitement though, I felt a hint of insecurity. Here in the US, my heritage was my defining quality, my unique thing, often even among my Indian friends. I was afraid that in my homeland, I wouldn’t be considered Indian enough. My suspicions were confirmed the moment I stepped off the plane as the relatives welcoming us at the airport spoke to me in English rather than Hindi. This continued throughout the trip as people made special arrangements for me, like making sure I had bottled or filtered water and providing me with utensils for dishes usually meant to be eaten with one’s hands.
From shopkeepers to family members, my behavior surprised everyone I interacted with. When I greeted elders by touching their feet and saying pranam rather than giving them a ‘sup nod, spoke to waiters in Hindi instead of English, and offered to show family friends the classical dance I was teaching back home in Dallas, it caught everyone off guard. No one expected a girl brought up in America to be so familiar with Indian customs or have such an adequate grasp on the language (listen, my Hindi was impressive for a US citizen, but that still doesn’t mean it was great). It was clear that I was out of my element in India, but it was not nearly as foreign to me as everyone had seemed to expect.
August 15 is a very special date to me because it’s the day that I celebrate my native country’s independence as well as my own. On this day in 1947, India was freed from the British, and in 1998 my mother and I made the journey from India to the United States. Although I left India at a young age, my parents spent my formative years instilling traditional Indian values and a love of my culture in me. Because I’m not just American and I’m not just Indian, it’s easy to feel like an outsider in both countries sometimes. However, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. It’s the blending of the values of both of my countries that has made me the unique individual I am today.
