May 31, 2006
Brown, Like My CoffeeMusings
After almost an hour of traffic, Im nearing work, though Im furious that this succession of delays means that by the time I get there, it will be too late to get fresh breakfast. Now that Im off donuts, theres not much left in the continental spread that I feel like eating.
Wasnt there an amazing indie coffee place around here? I remember grabbing something hurriedly before my pre-wedding mani/pedi a few days ago I hadnt expected much, but after my first sip of perfectly brewed espresso, I was a believer. The place had a cutesy name there it was: The Bean Counter. Unfortunately, parking was not allowed in front of it. Fortunately, I snagged a coveted “zone two” spot right around the corner. Go me.
I knew they were famous for a Cuban sandwich or similar, i.e. something I could never eat, but I wondered if they served breakfast. As yummily necessary as coffee was, it wasnt a proper meal. I started to read the menu which was framed to the left of the front door
Just go in, Im sure its fine.
I slowly turned and found a very well-dressed older black man smiling at me. In my peripheral vision I noted a gleaming black town car, illegally parked.
I started stammering, I had been in my own little world before he yanked me out of it.
Um, yes. It, um is. Its goodreally good actually. Excellent espresso.
Thats what I heard from the woman down the street. Thought Id check it out. Well, I dont want to crowd you, so
Thanks you, I mean, thank you.
My goodness I was an idiot first thing in the morning. Fine, second thing, too.
I went back to the menu but the only thing which appealed contained nutellla, which Im staying away from, since Im weaning myself from sugar. Just coffee then, I guess. I went in and walked all the way to the back of the narrow space, to the register.
How many shots are in a large? I asked, slightly ashamed that I knew exactly how to order my desired drink in Startwat lingo. I didnt want to betray my shameful secret, so dumb questions were in order.
Three. She had a rather thick accent I couldnt place.
Madre de Dios, thats a lot. I remembered my junior year at Davis, when I went to Roma off A street right before a final exam and ordered a triple shot drink. I spent the majority of our two hour test period puking my brains out, leaving me a whopping 20 minutes to fill a blue book with my suddenly very shaky handwriting. Thank goodness it was just poli-sci. ;)
Large, single-shot latte then.
Single? You single?
Didnt I get enough of this shit at the wedding this weekend?
Yes, I want a single shot. But I still want a large. I like milk.
Single? she continued, still a prisoner to her disbelief.
I sighed. My parents have ruined me for normal” coffee. I started drinking kappipala before I was two. Milky coffee is just what I love, thats not going to change after three decades.
Okay. She was shaking her head, eyes wide. Low-fat?
Yes, please.
I looked down at the box labeled “Customers” in front of the cash register, so grateful to have something else to focus on besides the people behind the counter, who were still exclaiming single! to each other. Please don’t misunderstand— I wasn’t irritated about “single” in the context of relationships, I was irritated that a single shot was creating this kind of reaction. Whatevs.
I dont like carrying around feeble little cards which grow weaker every time some cashier punches a hole in them to signify a purchase, but I think rewarding loyalty is a sweet idea. This café was a new favorite because of their system for recognizing frequent customers; the aformentioned “box” was a small plastic container, the kind I used to file index cards full of evidence in when I did that lesser form of debate which requires TWO people in high school. There were dividing tabs with all the letters of the alphabet. After Z there were a few blank cards. You wrote your name at the top and then listed your drinks on the ruled lines below, getting the tenth entry free. Simple. Old-skool. Fantastic. I was deeelighted. Take THAT corporate coffee clones.
She handed me my drink and said, Here is single, honey. Here it is, indeed. I walked away, to the island of sweeteners and Nissan flasked-milks by the front door. Mmmm, foam, I thought to myself, as I enjoyed the top of my much-needed latte.
Excuse me, miss-
Jay-Z started playing in my head. Damn it. I had been humming along to the Pixies.
I just have to ask-
Of course you do.
Where are you from?
I fucking hate this question.
May I hazard a guess?
Well at least if they guess, its kind of entertaining to hear what they come up with I was suddenly less annoyed. I wonder if people are going to ask my children this shit.
Are you middle eastern?
If I were elsewhere, Id think he meant desi by that, but this is D.C., where Saudi royals can be found in every third pair of Diesel jeans. I suddenly had a flashback to my first year of grad school, when I used to take cabs home to my Logan Circle apartment every night because my classes finished between 10 and 11pm. After I stated my preferred destination, a cab driver had once asked me, Are you Kuwaiti? I remembered being so amused by this, because it was the first time anyone had guessed THAT. Possessed by a silly whim, I said, Sure. GW was chock full of Arab kids. It wasnt a stretch.
I suddenly felt a little queasy, because my next thought was obviously a memory of 9.11, which only emphasized how innocent I felt back in 1999, the year of my memory. Id never do that now and I felt slightly ashamed but mostly sad. This is what we lost on that day, this freedom from fear, panic and anxiety. Has it already been five years? Mein gott.
The dapper inquisitor looked perplexed at my pause.
No Im not.
Can I try again?
Sure! I smiled at his hesitant enthusiasm.
Thats kind of impressive, considering I know desis who think thats what we are. Not bad, not bad at all.
Not exactly
Indian?
His single-word question brought comments from Sepia threads past rushing back to my consciousness. I am Indian, I am not Indian, I cannot be Indian because I do not have a passport, I have the right to self-define, I do not have the right to choose Indian I suddenly felt a bit dizzy.
My parents theyre Indian, I was born here.
Ah, I thought, with the name, you couldnt be Indian. He was eyeing my work I.D., clipped to the bottom of my pale pink shirt. I was in no mood to play name games. I smiled back at him, he reminded me of a certain Brown Mayor who had a penchant for Brioni and Borsalino.
So youre American?
As American as Fenway.
You from Boston???
Nope. I had just seen Fever Pitch on cable last night.
Have a good day, Indian princess.
I willed every muscle in my neck to freeze, to prevent me from shaking my head. Dont roll your eyes, either! Lets forget for a moment that Im a born Amreekan citizen: Indian Princess oddly felt more Native American to me, possibly because I remember some Girl Scouts knock-off troop which the kids across the street had joined with that name and premise. No wonder I pictured feathers, not red dots.
The door closed gently behind him, setting off a little bell, which reminded me of little girls’ ankles. I took a cleansing breath. It was too early in the morning for me to fall in to my head with the questions I could consume myself with who has the time or energy for that shit? Not me. Especially not when it was time to take my South Asian American commoner kundi to work.
“This happens to me every damned day”, I thought, pondering why I have desi friends who NEVER get asked this (presumably they never get accosted by Scam-way types either). Lucky me. Then I thought of this weekend, and what being “other” has gifted me with, even as it prevents me from just “fitting in”. Lucky me, indeed.
anna on May 31, 2006 12:17 PM in Musings · T·r·a·c·k·b·a·c·k address · Direct link · Email post
Well Anna, I am 100% white, but nearly every day I get asked if im half something.....mexican, inuit(Eskimo), "red indian" (native american, but in India they called me a Red Indian!), half black, half nepalese (nepali, whats the word?), half chinese even!
I guess I think it's funny....at this point I use it to my advantage......sure my mom is from Canada and my dad from Nepal when Im in South INdia...why not, it works better for me.....
In Mexico, yep, my mom is Mexican, my dad american...they love it....
But actually my mum is Canadian and my dad American....dont know how I came out lookin' like this, but I dont mind.
Cant comment on coffee, I have never had it....but,I think that guy was just flirting with you and really what he was saying was, "you are gorgeous and I'd like to get to know you" ..think maybe?
Peace out!
Anna, I wouldnt advise you to click my link today to see what I look like...I have posted a totally crazy pic of me with berry juices all over my face and you wont be able to see my "halfness!" :P
That dude was clearly just trying to get some action....
I myself cringe anytime anyone asks me where I'm from or if I'm "east Indian." I usually respond:
1. By saying, "I'm from Houston. Yes, that's where I'm really from."
2. By asking back, "where are you from? No really, where are you from?" That usually shuts them up.
I LOVE screwing with people's heads anytime this situation comes up. The more "random" my supposed point of origin is, (i.e., Appalachia, Denmark, Korea) the more fun I get out of these encounters -- and the more likely the inquisitor will realize that it's none of their business in the first place.
Seems to me you're being hit upon and this is an obvious opening line. Must be b/c you're attactive. Be careful what you wish for, you just might...
Here's a link to my favorite blog entry about that question.
yeah, I think it's just the lowest common denominator attempt at getting a gorgeous girl in a conversation. If you'd had an orange vest on and been carrying a shovel, he'd have gone for the "so, you work construction?" route...
Nonetheless, you should have picked up a packet of crackers to go with that cheese.
Lately I've been trying out a pre-emptive "Where are you from?" or "Are you from India?" but only with desi shopkeepers etc. I actually enjoy this dialogue now because I like to think that, although I was born in Illinois and the guy behind the counter is from outside Mumbai or whatever, we could in fact be one another. When it's not a desi asking the question, though, and I know it's an attempt at bonerly (yes bonerly) exotification I stress my Midwestern origins, quietly and unsmilingly, and leave as soon as possible. Eww "Indian Princess" just makes me cringe.
I can attest to that, I find it easier to start a conversation with "So Where are you from ?". But then again, I do not use it unless I am meeting someone at a party or something, not somewhere public.
And Lavanya
I could not agree more. When I walk into a gas station, I always get asked that. If the guy behind the counter is Indian, I always use the "I'm from Pakistan. What about you?" line and see their reaction. OMG its funny to see them stutter.
I have to admire the gaul of the guy though...
Indian Princess! LOL
I can only guess at how much action the dude got, ANNA! :D
On a totally side note, I'm visiting NYC for a week in mid-July, and I intend to try out the Central Asian restaurants in Queens (samsas!) that Manish had blogged about a while ago. Anyone who cares to join for some ethnic foodism, well, email me.
Different enrivonment, same deal - every time I open my mouth in India I get the same question.
... I hope that the auto drivers weren't looking for any action!
Do you have an American Accent? In India it might just be someone trying to figure out where the brown dude with the "non-brown" accent comes from. Although they might be lookin for some play...
Awesome link Ikram.
It works that way in India too. We moved all over the place when I was small and so I always had trouble answering the 'where are you from?' question. I schooled in X and Y, I was born in Z, but my parents actually speak a language that is from some other place W. It is frustrating, but it helps that I always have some personal connection with 4 places instead of one. So when any of these places come up in conversation, there is something personal I can associate the place with. Being multicultural at the individual level is an easy way to go about being cosmopolitan.
My postprandial navel gazing is now over.
I know. Those French dudes think they can just charm any girl (they might actually be right)
:-)
Never paid much attention to spelling. have always tried to get the point across as fast as possible.
Stuff like this happens a lot less to me now than it did even five years ago. Even then, it didn't happen much. I guess people just use it as an ice-breaker when they are trying to hit on someone and that doesn't really seem to happen to tall, gangly, hairy brown dudes like myself.
This kind of thing happens to me all the time. In the case of a pretty girl it is getting hit on. in the case of a lame guy, it is a case of mainly white people deciding on the spot that a brown dude cant be REALLY american. This guy might have been "from" here, but he is really a "ferner".
Ah, the eternally confounding question, which fortunately I don't get asked much anymore. But in my days of living in DC, and even while traveling outside of the US, the "Where are you from?" was always two steps behind me. At any given time, according to total strangers on the street, I was: (1) generically Latino, (2) specifically Nicaraguan, Ecudorean, Spaniard, etc., (3) Italian (specifically, an Italian woman asked if I was Sicilian, I replied "Every time I get away from this, you pull me back in", (4) mixed (i.e. "Are both your parents Indian?", i.e. there must be some white in me somewhere.
The most uterly ignorant statement from a complete stranger: "You speak English so well! You don't even have an accent." And she was a nice middle-aged lady who had no clue how silly she sounded.
Evreytime I go walking about town with one of my desi friends, who is female, friendly and smily, she invariably gets other desis (usually men, hmmm) coming up to her asking, "Where are you from?"
"Manchester." (England; we live in London, England)
"No, no, where are you originally from?"
*sigh* "Pakistan."
"Aaaaah!"
The really crazy ones then go on to ask where exactly in Pakistan (if they are Pakistani too) and do they know their
father's brother's step-sister's son-in-lawcousin Amar?On a recent trip to California (I live in India), a colleague said, "You must have lived in the states before. You speak very good English". And this was in San Francisco, not some out of the way midwestern town. I tried to make a joke about being trained in a call center, but he was too dense to get it.
Cogito Ergo Sum:
I get this all the time. They usually think that my level of English should be comparable to his/her level of spanish/french/german (or whatever they took in high school).
awww, give anna's ephemeral friend a break. if he was as she says older, dapper, african-american with an air of willie brown, sounds to me like this was a perfectly good natured exchange and one that stems from a long-standing tradition of banter as mutual acknowledgment. there are slimy and non-slimy ways to pay a compliment. as for "indian princess," why not? it sounds sweet to me.
Cogito Ergo Sum:
That was not dense on his part. MOST foreigners in the US don't speak fluent English. Why should he have somehow realised that Indians are an exception? One thing people from India don't seem to understand is that the fluency which Indians have in English is quite an abberation in the general scheme of things. Most people in most of the world (non-native English speakers) are NOT that fluent in English. There is no reason why an American should automatically know that most educated people in India have adopted English as their mother-tongue and in fact speak it better than their own native languages. Americans would never assume that because they probably (correctly) feel that no self-respecting people would ever do that.
Thanks, Siddhartha...I was starting to feel clueless for not picking up that someone was trying to pick me up.
Nice one Anna.
KenyanDesi and ChickPea's folks and other brownies who are from Africa will attest to this one:
Them: Where in India are you from?
Me: I am indian but I am not from India. I am from Kenya
Them: Kenya? Where is that?
Me: In East Africa
Them: You look so indian though! And you're not black
Me: I smile and walk away thinking, 'No Shit Shurlock'.
I had an interesting incident yesterday. I walked in this Indian restaurant for lunch....it had some 10-15 people (me being the only desi in sight). I was busy devouring chola-bhatura ...but at the back of my mind I had this lingering feeling that somebody was observing me. I turned a little bit and saw two people staring at me....one of them was a 20 something (white) male and other was probably his girl-friend. She had the typical ABD looks (more about this later) and I'm sure that she was an indian american. They immediately took their eyes off me..and I didn't take much notice. After a couple of minutes, I could hear the girl faintly talking to her boy-friend..."this is how you eat Indian food..look at that guy..he's using his right hand to break the bread while his left hand is squeaky clean ..to hold the glass of water. This ain't messy...you should know the right way".
On hearing this, I became a bit self-conscious. It appeared a bit funny to me. I stood up, turned around and walked past their table to re-fill my drink (no ice!). The guy just winked at me..and smiled sheepishly.
I went back to my table ..but this time I started eating my bhatura as if it were a pizza. After each bite of bhatura, I used the spoon to eat some cholla. I could hear some giggling in the background.
After a while, they both came to my table and apologized for making me uncomfortable (!). The guy thanked me for saving him from yet another lesson of "Desi for Dummies".
Aaah, Msichana, the gift of being an immigrant twice over (Indian parents, born and raised in Kuwait, moved to American when an impressionable teenager). "Indian Princess" seems worlds better than "Tamilese Tigress" to me. Yes, a regular at one of my favorite haunts actually calls me that. Tamilese? What the hell is that?
That's what our Cicatrix is, duh. ;)
nicely written anna. i guess i don't really post here that much anymore but i felt like chiming in here. i've been mistaken for:
a.) black (got offered literally a brick of weed by this guy at, of all places, a 7-11)
b.) black portuguese (not sure about this one)
c.) latino (this was hilarious because a pakistani guy couldn't tell i was indian after 2 weeks of knowing each other... after i told him, he was like, "dude we're practically brothers!")
d.) middle eastern - arab
e.) middle eastern - persian
f.) the others i don't really remember
A couple of years ago, I spent an entire day at a close Sikh friend's wedding where half the people there thought I was a Pakistani Muslim (because of my facial features and skin colouring -- I wasn't walking around saying "Mashalla" or doing namaaz in the corner). Which wouldn't be so bad as that kind of mistaken identity happens to me fairly often, except for the fact that a few weeks earlier I'd attended a weekend-long bachelor party with nearly two dozen of the guys concerned. And most of them were Sikhs.
Timepass,
Getting mistaken for an Italian is actually a good thing. You know those guys have a smooth image.
By the way, did the Italian woman concerned look like Sophia Loren, Monica Bellucci, or Gina Lollobrigida ?
All Italian women look like that. Yes they do. Stop arguing. I'm not listening to you.
@Cogito Ergo Sum
You should take that as a compliment. Just because Indians can cobble together some english into the semblance of a sentence doesn't mean they can speak English. Most of time, its very difficult to understand their "pronunciation." I remember reading this article by Khushwant Singh about pronunciation by English newscasters in India. It was hilarious. It started with how they can't even pronounce 'Welcome.' After having lived outside India for a number of years, those errors and the thick accent is glaring. I remember watching a news broadcast last month on an Indian satellite channel and the pronunciation was atrocious! And no, it was not British pronunciation, as Indians love to say. I have never heard surveillance pronounced as "Survey Lance."
You should take the compliment because it was a genuine admiration for fluency since we usually hear too much "desi english" from the "we speak like the british" crowd.
What is kappipala? Google gives nothing.
Kappi = coffee
Pala = milk
:)
Though I must say, I know several Malayalees who never use this word, even though my Father said it daily.
Anjan:
Not always. Not if it comes from a person who uses the word "like" more than 3 times in a sentecne.
The best is when I travel in South America or hang out with Latinos down here in Houston. Mexicans claim I look colombian, colombians claim I look dominican...and the list goes on and on :)
Nobody's ever called me an 'Indian prince' though :C
Spelling? I thought it was an extremely smart pun. Really.
mschiana :) nice one.
i've been mistaken for everything under the sun...greek, middle eastern, eastern european...italian.. hawaiian? i should be a spy...every person i encounter in my work asks me where the hell i'm from.. one guy started jabbering at me in farsi... i just looked..and smiled..and said nothing until he stopped...and i told him i'm indian...
one person said: 'but honey.. i lived next door to italians all my life..and you're ITALIAN..'... okay maam... more percocet and sleepy pills for you..i think i know how brown i am....;)
i was eating lunch with a group of folks, an elderly indian physician was also at the table.. somehow india came up as a topic, and we were chatting about travels and such.. she looked at me, and said, 'wow, for a nonindian, you know a lot about india!'... okay.. when indian aunties don't know what you are.. what GIVES? my attending couldn't believe how another indian didn't know i was indian (i had told her that before...and this just put a lock on the door)
and then one of the other memorable incidents was this..
You'd need a Vij for that...
I suppose you mean to say, that "you" find it "difficult".
@brown_fob
If you were to use that standard then only the people who speak the Queen's English can claim to be native speakers. You name it, Scots, Irish, Aussies, Americans, Welsh - have their colloqualisms. And there is a distinct, lucid distinction between using local euphemism/shorcuts and not being able to converse coherently.
Internalized Self-Hatred! Party of One!
In my veedu, we called it Pal Kappi ie Coffee with milk or Cafe' au lait, inversely Kattan Kappi was Black coffee or Cafe' sans lait.
Just getting my 2 paisas worth in while the topic was still "garma-garam"
Hey Anna,lookin' Good ;-)
Yeah, I was pretty stoked to be mistaken for a Sicilian. But then I realized she probably asked that question based more on my "swarthy" complexion than my smooth image. My ego boost came crashing down.
Unfortunately I don't remember what the Italian woman looked like. And dude, don't get me started on lovely Italian (or Spanish) women. If the woman who mistook me for a Sicilian looked anything like Maria Grazia Cucinotta (sfw), she could have said I looked like a baboon's butt and I would have lapped it up. :-)
Ugh. Try lookin' about half as hungover as I actually was, after a night of doing shots of Black with the bride's Dad. Kindly keep in mind that THAT madness came after I had already downed seven black and diet cokes while only eating the side dishes at dinner, since I'm the only vegetarian in the world who won't eat eggplant parm. When three out of five girls in a hotel room are puking after the reception, that's one legendary night. *Shakes fist* I curse you, open premium bar! We all do!
I'm done. Done, I tell you. You will call me sharaabi no more. Owwww, my tummy...my head...my liver...
You may want to add "Indian English" to that list.
Most of the Indians are able to carry out coherent conversations. They do have problems with pronouncing some words....but that does not mean that they don't know how to "speak English".
Indians ain't speaking no good english.
I get that question every damned day.
Best of friendster messages: "You look so exotic in your picture!"
WTF!?!? I'm wearing a shirt and tie and look whiter than Bing Crosby.
There's also a healthy dose of hilarity whenever I go to a Greek church and the little old ladies try to set me up with their daughters. . . until they find out I'm not Greek. Then we go through the litany. . . Italian, Israeli, Arab, Spanish, and the big winner:
Black Irish.
WTF!?
Eventually they get to Indian. And then say something in that @#($*&^ accent. From now on I'm Krzkstani.
and doesn't our friend Russell Peters have a routine about this? (the Italy bit)
@anna #45,
nope, you have company. i abhor all eggplant-ed dishes. eggplants are like cockroaches, same color outer skin, and the little white seeds... don't even get me started.
Ikram (#6) -- that was a wonderfully written post. Check it out if you haven't read it already.
I haven't faced it here in UK, but I lived in the US till last year, and had similar experiences.
In fact, on my very first visit in 2001, I stepped out of JFK, and was waiting for the bus to La Guardia, to catch a connecting flight. And this guy comes up to me and starts talking in rapid Spanish. And when I told him in English that I can't speak Spanish, he apologized and said he is from Texas and that I look very hispanic.
And in Indianpolis where I lived for some time, people routinely used to mistake me for a Hispanic as well. Of course, when a pretty Cuban girl mistook me for a Cubano (on a visit to Florida), I gratefully utilized the ice breaker to get to know her better :-)
Reminds me of the very filmi saying: Bade Bade deshon mein, aise chote chote cheez hojaate hain.
Cheers,
Kumar
Ahem...know her better, eh? Should try that myself, then... ;-)
I'm going to call you chukaray and leave it at that. I empathize with your desire to be inclusively South Asian. Viva la revolucion.
The best I've ever got was "mi indio lindo". I think being called an indian prince would be too traumatic for me.
mmm. baingan bartha. yum.
At some level I understand why people get tired of the derivation question - not only is it tedious to have to pull out the pat answer, but sometimes you just want to feel part of things in a way that the question itself disallows. But at the same time I usually feel like people are just being friendly and curious. That's not so bad, is it?
My all time fav is when I was verbally assailed by this munchkin - couldn't have been more than 10 or 11 - trolling about the Crown Center (Plaza?) mall in Kansas City: "Yo, darkness!" A nice, catch-all phrase. I told him I was old enough to be his auntie. OK - not really, I was about 16 at the time, but it made his young posse giggle, and deflated his...pride. (He was too young to have anything resembling 'manhood'.)
My all time favorite response to "where are you from/are you (insert olive-drab ethnicity) - "Oh, thank you for asking - but I'm already promised to a prince from my country." For whatever reason, that seems to quell unwanted conversation. (Depending on who's asking and how, I'm usually a lot more gracious and patient.)
Since we are sharing...
I was at the mall in DC a couple years back, and got assailed as well by a bunch of teens, the typical "Hey, baby, wussup" usual speak, and then he had the nerves to say, "I'm Bin Ladin. You wanna piece of me now?" (Don't remember the ver batem, but you get my drift) I was fuming, but alas, was never one for witty comebacks...
Indian Princess. Ugh. Exotic. Ugh.
i have a reverse complaint than some of you. i can't understand why the potent combination of my accent (carefully nurtured and perfected 'speak english like kannada' accent btw) and my no-mistaking-all-too-mysore look cannot place me in india.
i was at a persian club during new year, and this woman asks me if i am turkish. me: no. she: farsi? me: no. she: arab? me: no. she: pakistan? me: no. and finally... she: oh hindu? me: (puzzled at the choice of term) yes. well, so some middle easterners think i am one of them. even so, no logistical problems while flying---the airport security fellows are always mexican, and mexicans also think i am one of them anyway. so no hassles. and i am a bro when necessary.
that is not all. a few years ago. my neighbor (vietnamese): where are you from? me (in thick karnataka accent): i'm from india. she: i know, but you were not born there, were you?
where did that come from? in retrospect, i should have asked her before she moved out where she thought i was from.
now, am i becoming zelig?
I hear you on the "I hate that question" thing. Though now that I've been in da muthaland for 10 months, where my name is always pronounced correctly and where people can peg what religion and caste they think I am part of ("think" because I'm the product of one of those scandalous intercaste lowe marriages. Hail Ambedkar!) based on my last name, I sort of miss the murkiness of being brown in America.
That said, it's been awhile since I had an overtly racist experience, so this is perhaps another one of those homesickness induced romantic notions of life on the wesside of the planet.
I suspect people sometimes disguise the "where are you from?" question by asking about names. As in, "Kuveeduh...hmm, so what kind of name is that?". I confess that I'm not beyond such techniques myself. Sometimes you just want to know. Sometimes it's just a way to connect with another person whom you suspect might share experiences similar to your own...
Byteword: "Bengalooru" or "Mysooru" Accent??
It's usually people in check out counters who ask me- "Where are you from, Honey (THAT fake honey)"- I say me?? Tennessee.
The reactions to these varies on my geographic location-
In the bible belt- You dont look like Mexican- You can't be black either- so we wonder..where are you from? and the black lady in Detroit laughed so hard that I told her I was Indian.
I have got Brazilian and Columbian though mostly from men in Coffee Shops and Grocery Stores..
I actually love this question. I love the look of disbelief that passes over peoples faces when I tell them I'm from Kenya.
And when they say "but you're not black" I reply, "Neither are many Ethiopians, Somalis, Egyptians, Tunisians, etc." This usually befuddles them enough to stop this line of questioning.
My dad's the best. When he goes to desi functions he's often asked (in Gujrati) "What town are you from?" His reply, "Kisumu" (i.e. the town in Kenya where he/his father were born)...
Kenyandesi:
I hear what you're saying, but aren't you on SOME level "from" Gujarat? Origins, culture, identity? The town that your great-grandfather (and probably countless generations before him) was born? I know 3rd generation Sikhs in the UK who still proudly proclaim which village in Punjab they are "from" (which is actually their paternal grandfather's village). Just the fact that you visit this site and have 'desi' in your handle tells me that "Kenya" alone does not describe you. Am I wrong?
#24 Most educated Americans should know that since India was a part of the British empire, privileged upper-class Indians, often the professionals who come to the US, speak very good English. I always say it is a first not a second langauge for me since I started learning English in India when I was three years old, simultaneously with other languages. This concept usually boggles the Euro-American world which has been so focused on monolingualism as the norm. The same is true of other colonies.
# 32 I have a vague memory that at one time Indians were supposed to be the best speakers of English outside of England (and I mean pronunciation as well). My own memories from the 80's of Doordarshan (national TV) news announcers such as Tejeshwar Singh and Nidhi (forget her last name), and this is before BBC and CNN went to India, are that they were fantastic. In at least a couple of decades of listening to news, I never once heard them say things like 'survey lance.' Many of the English news announcers in those days had experience in theatre or radio or some other media that had trained their voices and accents. And if you compare Indian English to most other regional Englishes, it's the least 'accented' of any. US universities will tell you they prefer Indian TAs because of their English SPEAKING skills. BTW, I personally, have nothing against accents and am all for the spread of 'englishes.'
Have any of the US-born desis here had the experience of going back to India and being immediately recognized as an American? I've had more than a few people walk up to me on the street and ask me if I wanted to exchange dollars on the black market. At first, it used to only happen in the airports which is a no-brainer, but it has also happened randomly around the cities too. Is that just a lucky guess based on appearances, clothes, etc? And mind you, they specifically asked if I wanted to exchange dollars, not just any foreign currency.
Also, regarding the kappipala, palu kappi debate... I guess the transliteration is all up to debate, but I don't think I've ever heard the word for milk pronounced as "pala" with an "a" at the end. I think that's the word for a bridge, right? pala or palam? At least, that's the way it is in my tharavadu, we represent hardcore mallu styles, like the autorickshaw on 20" dubs.
DJ88,
Happened to me after a scant 4 years stateside. This was in Madras and I was waiting at a bus stop and asked the next guy, if the 23A, or whatever I was waiting for, was expected in the next ten min. I was proudly flaunting my language skills and I thought I had managed to supress my accent and instinct to lapse into english slang as I was wont to do stateside, with my tamizh friends. I guess my accent must've leaked through.
Ob. Ethnicity reference:
It doesn't bother me at all when people ask me where I'm from. I know exactly what they mean...then again I AM from India..ah ah ah.
Most people are not mean spirited when they ask the question. Chill!
I've been specifically mistaken for latino drug dealer (long haired motorcycling days in the late 80's) by an undercover cop who tried to buy from me.
Recently I keep getting "Salaam alaikum'ed" (bald, goatee/beard) by strangers who are not obviously muslim (but I think are). What is the etiquette? It always takes me by surprise and I'm too thrown to respond with the "Alaikum asalaam" and I end up with a sheepish Hello.
That's nice, but I'm not going to let it invalidate my irritation. It's not like my Asian friends of Chinese descent get asked what they are every time they go out. Experiencing curiousity is understandable but expressing it isn't always the wisest or most appropriate thing to do.
This guy was benign compared to most, btw. I wrote about this instance vs. others b/c I had those two dissonant moments I mentioned:
1) when I wondered if someone would ask my child similar
2) when I remembered how certain commenters stated that there was no way in hell I could ever be "Indian".
If I wanted to be admonished with that word, I would've stayed on my home coast, over on the left paretheses of Amreeka. ;)
Chandi (#62):
The problem is not with people speaking fluent English. That's obviously a huge advantage in today's world. The problem in my view is that the subset of Indians you describe barely knows how to speak its own language(s). Urban educated youth in India are gradually losing fluency in their so-called mother tongues (I say 'so-called' because as you yourself acknowledged, English has become their de facto mother tongue). And I stand by my assertion that people with self-respect would never allow that to happen.
Globalisation may mean that you need to know English. It DOES NOT mean that you have to invite English into your homes, into your most intimate of relationships, into the very hard-wiring of your brain. English-medium education is having such harmful effects on Indian languages, the full outcome of which will only be apparent in 2-3 generations. Nowadays, getting into a good primary school is so tough in India. They interview children as young as three IN ENGLISH. Parents deliberately start speaking to their newborns in English so that 'they don't get left behind' and so they can be ready for that interview. Not to mention the snob appeal of speaking fluent English. Now, if your parents are speaking to you in English, and your siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors, friends, etc. are speaking to you in English (since most of the time they will come from the same socio-economic status as you), and your school is in English (many schools fine the kids if they are caught speaking anything other than English), how the hell can you become fluent in your mother tongue (so-called)? I know that in Mumbai, Hindi is introduced relatively late into the curriculum, and is over by 8th standard (10th in some cases). You also have a few years of Marathi which do not really teach you to speak the language. In Punjab in the English-medium schools, Hindi is introduced somewhat earlier, but shamefully, Punjabi is not introduced until 4th grade, and is over by 8th grade. You tell me how our languages are expected to survive in this environment.
All this would not matter if it was restricted to just the upper class. But English has penetrated middle-class India in a BIG way, and as the middle class expands (currently expanding rapidly) English will expand with it. Conversely, our languages will continue to deteriorate, and eventually be stigmatised as the preserve of illiterates, servants, and rural poor. When the British were in India, they learned a bit of Hindi (or other local language) to communicate with their servants. If you observe the English-speaking Indians, that seems to be their only use for Indian languages as well. So we have become so colonised mentally that we view our own tongues as fit for the servants only.
Sorry for this long post, this issue is a really bitter one for me. I feel so bad about the linguistic changes going on in India, and the constantly deteriorating status and condition of our languages. I know I can't change anything, I can just vent, and hope some people agree with me.
To pull a "kaavya" on John Lee Hooker "The left coast is in him and bound to come out".
In reality I don't know how I would react if I WAS born here. Maybe I'd be pissed as well. I'll ask my son when he can talk in complete sentences and his attention span isn't 2 min!
If your Asian friends of Chinese decent were asked if they were Japanese (or if they asked the Koreans if they were Japanese) they'd be just as pissed. As far as the "generic amreekan" goes they are all chinese so it doesn't matter.
As far as being Indian enough for commentators, I just love the nasty, politically incorrect, quote about the similarities between arguing on the Internet and participating in the Special Olympics.
I just want to add that your mothertongue is your cultural heritage, it's your birthright, and parents who do not speak to their children in their mothertongue are robbing them of that, and doing them a great disservice. My opinion.
Amitabh,
So you mean to say that English is not a superior language of superior people? C'mon now, everyone knows that, only domestic help speaks in the "native" tounge ... OK *sarcasm off*
You describe my sentiments exactly in the above. About Americans being surprised at fluency in spoken English demonstrated by an ethnic (I hate that term, but ..) person may be annoying, but the fact still is that amongst people of Indian/Desi ancestory, less than 20% are probably fluent English speakers. (Conting the diasporic Desis), So actually the numbers are on the side of the person being surprised at a Desi speaking good English. (Although I dont agree with that person, as his/her surprise is due to a stereotype and all sterotypes suck !!!)
Maybe, but I think your grandchild will probably be spared the question. I believe New York just became the first state where whites are now a minority and 30 years down the road there'll be many more such states.
But now that i think about it, I've often heard this question asked of whites as well and think it's just a generic conversation starter. Also, I remember reading somewhere that the 4th generation tries hard to get in touch with its roots. My boss is nth generation american of Scottish origin and is a member of every society - tartan club, burns club, bagpipers something - and is very happy to talk about where he's from. Who knows, our children may end up being miffed at not being recognized as Indians :)
Very cute point. :)
Hell, you don't have to wait 'til the 4th generation, I already get miffed when people think I'm not Indian.
This question is a curse. Glad to know that I am not the only one who has had to deal with it all her life.
One point of contention: American Born Desis do not like this quesiton, ie, "We are not set apart from the US", but yet they enjoy being set apart from other Americans for their supposed intelligence, instruction at elite universities, and so on.
Can't win either way.
Clarifier: we do not, rightfully so, enjoy being seen as not American, given the fact that we were born and raised here in Amreeka. So we are American, and this question "Where are you from" suggests that there is an ideal real "American"- basically white or African American-- while the rest of us are really from somewhere else.
However, there are also American Desis who appreciate and embrace "positive stereotypes" (defined by the white elites) which suggest that we are somehow more intelligent, educated, and so on by virtue of our ethnicity (Indian), in contrast to other ethnic groups. In this sense, we are proud of being set apart from the other Americans: ethnicially, we are not from America, and this different ethnicity is socio-economically superior to the other ethnicities.
Not sure if I am making sense, but those are my two cents/paisa.
Chandi and Amitabh: This has happened before, you know. The last person to speak kannada fluently in my family - much the less Hindi, or anything save the Queen's English, was my great-grandmother. However I'm a 2nd-gen; my mother's the immigrant. Frankly, I feel like a slightly-lame desi for being brown but Anglophone. Yes, kannada and hindi are on my list of languages to learn, but there's practically no-one to study with (side note: anyone know kannada speakers in Boston?).
There's a whole identity crisis in the family as a result; are we Indian, Canadian, English, Amrikan. . . it seems that we are all these things, and emphatically. It's actually a bit tragic; we who were poets in Mangalore are identity crises in the New World. So how can the current generation in India gain English -- and economic power -- without losing identity? Surely it can't be the French-Canadian method of shutting off all non-French discourse and thus torpedoing the economy.
I think part of me is miffed at not being recognised as Indian, and having to sit through the litany of medium-beige ethnicities until someone reluctantly guesses aright.
Anyhow, as a side note, if anyone ever tries to call my grandmother Anglo-Indian (as I did once), I pity da fool.
Amitabh, Chandi and Anandos:
Here's another disturbing observation.
In most of the schools (English medium) in North India, Hindi is taught as a "second langauge". Entire education..right from kindergarten to 12th grade is in English. Hindi is just another subject, and is given very little importance. Very few people opt for Hindi in 11th and 12th grades. We were taught basic Sanskrit for 4 years (grade 5 to grade 8), but the funny (bizzare) thing about our textbook was the fact that it had English-to-Sanskrit or Sanskrit-to-English translations! We never had any Sanskrit-to-Hindi translation questions in our exam.
None of my friends have written a single word in Hindi in the last 10 years! None of them remember the 'aksharmala' (ka kha etc). The situation will only get worse.
I have been mistaken for:
1. Yemenite, by Yemenites who think I am one of their sistas
2. Kurdish, by the Kurds
3. Brazilian
4. Sicilian, by Sicilians
5. Afghani, by Afghanis
In each case, members of the respective ethnic group started speaking to me in their language, and I just looked at them bewildered, telling them that I did not understand what they were saying. I repeatedly reassured them, despite their disbelief and protests, that I am 100% Desi (at least, as far as I know) and no, I am not "Kurdish" {insert one of the above ethnic groups here}.
This is very interesting, because I think that I look obviously Indian (well, "Indian" meaning stereotypically Indian).
The only ones who are able to identify me right away are Punjabis and Pakistani Punjabis: "You're Gujarati, aren't you?" Me: "Yes! How did you know?". Them: "I can just tell".
When White and African Americans ask me, "Where in India were you born?" I respond, "New Jersey". If they ask me, "Where do you come from?" I say "America". When White Americans insist, "No, really, where are you from?" I always say, "Really. I'm from here. I'm American. How about you? Where are you really from?"* Then they laugh uncomfortably and concede that the point has been taken.
Isn't it funny living in Amreeka?
*I only make this point to Euro Americans, not African Americans.
Clarifier:
This point is what I do not stress to African Americans. Asking them "where are you really from" is quite insensitive and demonstrates a lack of knowledge about African American history. In my opinion
CAD:
Are you less offended by african americans asking you that question? Why would you get all sensitive about it? I say if somebody offends you, offend them back. Otherwise, just let it all slide.
JayV:
To be honest, yes, I'm less offended by African Americans when they ask me this question. I may be wrong, but from my experiences, they have been marginalized and place on the fringes of American society all throughout US history, where they haven't been given equal rights and haven't been treated as equal citizens (well, theoretically they have since the CRM). So, taking that into account, if they see me as someone coming from somewhere else, I don't get as offended (though I do tell them that I am American).
The reason I get sensitive about this question is because when there are volatile political and social moments, it's not fun being singled out for not being "American" when I am in fact American, by virtue of birth and having been born and raised here, at least. Sometimes I do let it slide-- after all, you pick and choose your fights-- but many times I don't. Why should I? It's not like I'm pulling out an AK-47 and saying "Now, bitch, tell me where you're really from"; I ask them in the same tone and spirit that they have asked me; nothing aggressive about my parroting their question. If my questioners really insist, beyond good manners and etiquette, I tell them that my parents are from India, but I was born and raised here.
Furthermore, this impression that I am somehow a foreigner just because I look different unsettles me even more. It's not like I have an accent when I speak; I have the thickest California accent. Yet I have been complimented on my "perfect English" by the passenger sitting next to me on every single plane ride.
Lastly, this question implies that only White Americans are and can be the true, real, native Americans, when they are clearly nOT. They are descendents of colonial settlers, immigrants, and they too, come from "somewhere else". Why doesn't anybody ever think of asking a White American randomly, in public places, upon the very first meeting, "where are you from"? Because White is the default of American identity.
NOTE: My opinions are based on my own personal experiences.
Hope this answers your question!
CAD:
I think it is fair to say that is the truth in a nutshell.
However we slice it, the US was created by white folk for white folk. It's character may change over time as the demographic grows more brown skinned and latino (much to many a desi uncle's chagrin) but in it's roots it is a white xtian country.
African-americans who were brought here against their will, have been been here as long, as if not longer, than many whites. So nobody questions their origins, ever. I am sure latinos from texas and so-cal have had to put up with this stuff for a lot longer than we have (remember the song "Born in East LA"?).
I think the rest of us will just have to suck up our insecurities and go with the flow.
repping for the mixed-desis in the mutiny, this question is often loaded different ways. On top of the cheesy "indian princess" crap, there's a high percentage of "oh, MIXED people are so gorgeous"... as if we're all the same mix... or as if we should beam and say "gee, thanks" when really I had nothing to do with it.
I see where ANNA is coming from; it's not so much outrage as much as it is "here we go again", and after years and years of answering the question, I think at the core of it, some of us wonder "why does it matter to you??"
It's different to be approached by a stranger, where this is their opening line, versus a friend you've known or worked with for a while who has gotten to know you, as a person, and asks only after learning enough about you that race or culture isn't going to cause any judgements or assumptions on their part.
"...after years and years of answering the question, I think at the core of it, some of us wonder "why does it matter to you??"
Desidancer, I 'm sure you have already figured out that most people like to put others in neat little boxes. I am in the "married-10-years-but-no-kids-so-must-be-infertile-poor-thing" box, at least according to some comments I receive.
touche, SK, touche.
DD (who-fled-nyc-before-i-got-here, ahem),
well, aren't we?
:)
JayV:
Yes, I completely agree with you. Incidentally, I just finished reading a book on American nationalism, and it's interesting that white nationalist movements define themselves as the "native Americans"-- "native American" not meaning Native Americans, but white Americans.
I hear you, ANNA. Another thing is the whole "exotic Indian woman" garble. Once, when I was standing at the bus stop to go to work, this random white guy came up to me and asked me the dreaded question: "Where are you from?" Me: "I'm American". Him: "But where are you originally from?". Then, he launched into a whole spiel -- mind you, it was 6:30 in the morning, I not being completely awake yet-- about how he's convinced that "Eve was Indian. The first woman on this planet was Indian. No other woman as seminal [!] and beautiful as Eve could have been anything but Indian. An Indian woman set the standards on what is a woman and what beauty is" and how he just loves Indian women, they're so exotic, blah blah blah.
DesiDancer:
I'm with you on this one, DD. It's one thing when someone who knows you or is getting to know you and asks this question. But it's another thing when the first thing that comes out of a stranger's mouth, upon the first meeting (usually supermarket check-out lines and cashiers, cafes and pastry shops) is this question.
Relatedly, other 1-ger immigrants-- like Arabs, for example-- will ask me this question. After the whole, "I was born and raised in the States but my parents are from India" line, the response I usually get is "So what if you were born here? Your blood is Indian." Huh.
JayV,
I was just listening to this hiphop song, on a mixed CD (so I can't name the artist) that ended with an MLK speech and the opening line for the speech was that same quote! I was impressed and thought of SM, but than again, there's a lot of wonky types on SM, so I shouldn't be surprised...!
Taz:
Hmmm...
That was definitely pulling a kaavya. Didn't mean to rip off MLK! Sounds soo Malcolm-Xey (maybe even Garveyesque) though.
Does this mean I don't get to keep my advance?
@59, su
bengalooru. we shifted from mysore, what can be done. i still get all nostalgic abt the holidays when we used to go back. mysore was so laid back: many stores would open past 11, bakeries smelling amazing at 4pm (remember those palya buns?) and the city virtually folding down at 6pm :). my parents would have no problems abt me running anywhere in mysore, b'lore was "big bad city" and mysore was safe. then we shifted to kolkatta for a few years, and then b'lore was considered safe too :). i can only imagine what would have happened if we shifted to delhi!
@Indo American Cheap Ass Desi, #77
you look brazilian eh? always loved them. long lost browns they are. tell you something, why dont you leave brown_fob and come and marry me? instead of taj mahal, we will do carnival. i will then take you to the royal palace in mysore instead of the royal tomb in agra. see, things are looking better already right? :) and because i feel guilty abt brown_fob, we will gift him the taj mahal.
bytewords wrote:
Man! your words do bite! Leave my Cheap_Ass_Desi alone (with me). Cheap_Ass_Desi IS my Taj Mahal ;-)
brown_fob, you are like a brother to me. except when we fight over cad.
but maybe she should decide? tomb or palace, cad?
I was born in Australia and when Anglos ask where I am from they are happy when I answer India. However other Indians need details like what part or city so I have to go into details of both parents origins. Then they proceed to berate me for not knowing at least 3 Indian languages...
You're saying then, that you really wouldn't get what the fuss is about if you're Indian and are from India?
That said, I've been accused of being Spanish by my Thai colleague, French by a university acquintaince (sp.), Singaporean by a Malaysian backpacker, and Cambodian at heart, apparently for my love of things Khmer. I still insist that I will truly find my roots only when I seek lunatic asylum in Samoa and finally realise my dream of being a beachcomber.
Missed this post...
Roma's off A St.? I remember it being on E St.; my jazz band used to play gigs there all the time in 7th & 8th grade.
Anyhoo...
A few years ago I was in Chicago for my cousin's wedding, and my family had put up in some hotel. A few of us got into the elevator to go up to our floor along with an older black woman. It was a long ride, and the woman had plenty of time to look us over and ask the question (in a solid American accent).
My cousin and I instinctively replied with our US places of origin, and the woman of course wanted to know where we were REALLY from. But this time it was different - she asked in a way which said, "Come on, I'm not like everyone else asking you this question - you can tell me, look at me, I'm different too." It was interesting...
kavita (#58):
Indeed!
There were two locations; your band played downtown, I hung out at the other Roma, which was near the deathstar, off-campus books, Raja's, Ali Baba's et al, not that any of this exists anymore (aside from the deathstar).
I don't even know if you'll read this, but I'm in the mood to talk identity, so here goes.
I'm Kenyan. That's a national identity. I'm also VERY Guju/Desi, a cultural identity, but, that too, I'm Guju East African'ly so (for eg. I can't stand the syrup that passes for food, tea etc. in Gujrat. Sugar/Gor is not meant to be a staple item in any diet).
Much like desi-Americans (who are usually the first gen born here) don't like being challenged on their Americaness, I get offended if someone challenges my Kenyaness. My family has been there over 100 years. I'm THIRD gen born East African. My ancestors left the subcontinent before modern India (as it stands today with the borders that make it "India") was born.
yes, Kenya, India, they're all bound by imaginary borders. I get this (which is why I identify with East Africa, and South Asia), but while Kenyan borders are a part of my family's cognizant past, Indian borders are not. Which is why I'm Kenyan and not Indian.
in that case, we're all "from" east Africa anyway :D
When I was in college the few Indians from East Africa considered themselves "Africans first," hung out with other black Africans, and generally looked down on the ABDs. But then, everyone looked down on ABDs, even the Canuck Desis :-)
Thanks because we have no culture. didnt you know that?!
When somebody asks me if I'm from Africa, I usually say:
"We're all from Africa, but my family left a long time back"
;)
sigh.
Hi.... you wanna no sum in!! ppl ask me dat evry day to!!! My father and his family were mostly from italy, but his mother and her mother were northen irish. But m moms side is all greek cypriot. I was born in greece in 1990. And well yea ....its so annoying having to explain things to ppl bout where you from...all i say in reply is....God knows where!!! and they dont know how to react to that.
I loved your entry. You write extremely well. I can't even remember