October 18, 2007
On Feeling *Extra* Brown This AfternoonMusings
After finally deciphering and then completing the most challenging assignment I’ve had yet, I grabbed my badge and headed out. I wanted to take a little walk…I deserved to…I was done two hours before I expected to be and I felt a tiny sense of “Victory is mine!” because of it. Since I had skipped lunch, now was the perfect time to get some fresh air (and look for turning leaves). Once outside, I realized that today was the the day for our weekly Farmer’s Market. This made me mindful of how there were a finite number of Thursdays left before the weather would end the charming gathering of, oh, all of a dozen artisans and farmers, and that made me determined to appreciate everything even more. Excessive positivity (and the relief which blissfully arrives after meeting a deadline) inspired my lame ankle to try for whatever spring in my step I could muster. This was going to be nice.
I wasn’t looking for groceries, I was in search of a treat. I immediately recognized one when I saw a baker and his assistant arranging a decadent array of breads, scones, brownies, muffins and best of all…cookies. If I could list “home-made cookies” under my interests, I would. “C is for cookie, that’s good enough for me”, indeed. I spotted apple cinnamon, oatmeal raisin…then a few dozen peanut butter appeared…and then something which I couldn’t visually place, it was darker than the PB and didn’t have nuts dotting its smooth surface like so many allergy-inducing polka dots. Chocolate chip, my favorite hadn’t been unloaded yet. I smiled at the three women who were crowding the stand, impatient for the official start of the market. Oh yes, I’m not joking— you cannot sell anything until it is exactly 3pm and a bell has been rung. It’s a fair and thus lovely thing, apparently.
While the three, a duo and a single milled between me and those delectable baked petit morts, I observed the women as they observed the baker. Two were old enough to be my grandmother, and one of them had beautiful skin, bright reddish-orange lipstick and very pretty hair. She was so arresting, I couldn’t even look at the other two. I was fascinated, thinking silly AnnaThoughts like “I wonder what moisturizer she uses” and “I bet she wears lots of hats”. I was so transfixed, I almost missed what was occurring directly in front of us. Almost. Thanks to being perpetually high-strung, even things in my peripheral vision cause me to swivel and investigate, so that’s what commenced my micro-Monk-like-adventure: the gesture I saw, which I wish I hadn’t, while I was looking elsewhere.
I spied, with my round Southie eyes, the baker’s assistant, dropping one and then another cookie on the ground. He lunged for both, but alas, alack, they were goners. Leaning over, he picked them up with his latex-gloved hands and then walked a few steps back to the van which he had been unloading. After hesitating, he put the two dirty cookies somewhere we couldn’t see and came back out. I resisted the urge to mutter, “I hope those didn’t go right back in the case” mostly because I was too appalled by what the assistant did next—he walked right back to the racks near us and picked up the most beautiful, luscious chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever desired. He started arranging them in the last, forlorn, empty basket. I was astounded.
No one else seemed to mind.
Let me see if I underwear this—this man, who was wearing gloves, apparently for sanitary reasons, dropped food, picked it up and then, without changing gloves, grabbed several “fresh” and so “clean” cookies like it was no big thang?
This would be an opportune time to point out that this farmer’s market occurs on 8th street NW, in Penn Quarter. That’s right, it’s a city street. Just a scant hour before, cars had been rushing over this very spot, dripping oil while perhaps crushing the dead bird I saw a few feet away. This wasn’t indoors. This. was. a. filthy (albeit pretty!) street.
I started to feel a bit anxious. I turned to the woman on my right and asked, sotto voce, “Did he just pick up stuff from the ground and then NOT change his gloves before touching the rest of the cookies?” She looked a bit stunned, then shook it off. “You’re right. That is exactly what he did.” And with a grimace, she turned and walked away, towards the mellow mushroom farmer.
The majority of chocolate chips were still safe. I was trying to stay positive—maybe he was rushed, absent-minded, unintentionally icky…it would occur to him…now…or…erm…now? How about now? Oh, for the love of sugar, please change your nasty #?@%!%& gloves! He walked away and I thought, “Yes! See what happens when you hope for the best?”
The duo who remained between me and the stall started speaking.
“What did I tell you?”
“No, you were so right, these are gorgeous…I can’t wait ‘til 3!”
“I’m not sure what to choose!”
“What about you, dear?”
That last question was meant for me. Now both were looking my way, expectantly. It was kind of them to include me in their conversation. I love how people in cities just do that, they just insert themselves in to your life and then a few seconds later, float out, so naturally. I also love how contrary to popular belief, New Yorkers are NOT MEAN, nooo, people in DC are way ruder, in my experience. But that’s neither here nor fair.
“Well…I know this might sound obnoxious, but…I don’t know if I can buy something after seeing him pick up cookies off the street and then NOT change his gloves.”
“Oh, I hadn’t even thought of that! My dear, you are very observant.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to seem…I don’t know…unreasonable?”
“Not at ALL. You raise a very valid concern. That’s unsanitary handling of food.”
And with that, they both turned back to the baker.
The cookies were glistening in the late afternoon sunlight. How much butter did those babies get battered with? Oh, why, WHY does this guy have to be so naree*? My cookie-lust got the better of me, empowering me to be bold. I’m a consumer! They want me to buy things, so they would want me to be satisfied, right? That’s the whole point of supporting indie everything, you get such kind, personal service, that you feel extra good when you walk out with your purchase. As long as I’m polite, a question is perfectly acceptable. If that’s all it takes to get a glove change…and thus a clean cookie…
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Yes?” He was ready for my question. He had the slightest accent and he looked and sounded a bit like the “pool boy” in Legally Blonde. You know, the one who was all…”Don’t you go tapping your last season Prada shoes at me missy” or similar. No? Didn’t watch it? Fine, let’s move on.
“Did two cookies drop on the ground?”
“Yes, but I threw them away. There’s trash in the truck.” He looked at me like, “come on, you should know better…of course I threw them out!”
“Oh, but…didn’t you…pick them up while wearing…those gloves?” I gestured towards his hands, each of which were holding 4-5 now-tainted cookies.
The smile immediately disappeared from his face. In fact, he was scowling. The epiphany had smacked him, all oops upside his head, like.
“Look, I touch the cookies, not the road!”
I nodded. “Thank you so much.”
I don’t know how he had magically avoided asphalt and thus preserved the integrity of his food-handling equipment, but I felt that it was appropriate to leave, since a line was forming for all the baked goodness.
Glum, I wandered past organic cheese samples, dried apple rings and a mini-orchid shop, over to the woman who always brings such gorgeous flowers to market. I had a question for her, about a certain…green, plant-y thing which I didn’t know the official name for. Since they were in the last few bouquets I had been given, everyone expected me to know what they were called. I’m asking for it; they are eye-catching. On Fridays, when I take the vase home (they last for over a week!) on the metro and while walking, I constantly hear “What ARE those?”
I was about to pose my question, since she had finished with an actual customer, when the two cookie ladies “cut in line”.
“Do you have dahlias?”, one asked.
The other older woman, the one who hadn’t spoken to me was eyeing me as she slowly, sensuously bit in to a chocolate chip circle of bliss. I know, she wasn’t doing it just to make me feel bad, but that was obviously the end effect.
This was really starting to bug me. I started wishing I was more “chill” about such things, her cookie looked THAT fantastic. I’m famous for washing my hands before I touch food, after I touch my laptop, upon re-entering the house, after I take off my shoes in the hallway…any time that they might be dirty. I have no more control over such rituals than I do over my obsession for 120 Minutes-era music. No cookie for me.
Here, have some context, it’s free today: I don’t think this is anything but familial myth-making, but allegedly, my first word was “chee-dirty!”. Does that count as a word? Whatevs, I grew up with typical, anal-retentive, paranoid brown parents. Which is not to say that I think Desis are somehow cleaner than everyone else, rather that they are more consumed with the concept than some.
After college, my two prospective Asian roommates (Chinese and half-Japanese, respectively) became probable and not possible roomies when I kicked off my shoes without being told, before touring the white carpeted apartment (what genius installs white rugs in a college apartment complex? Something about the G-line makes people wacky, I tell you.) Apparently, every other interested party had just stumbled on in; half had observed all the shoes by the door and asked about it…only to then strut right past, shoes still on.
See? And some of you think we have practically nothing in common with “real” Asians. ;)
[Aside: as if that last sentence wasn’t incendiary enough, I’ve got more flame bait for ya. I recall a very controversial early-early-morning breakfast, i.e. in the wee hours, after a night of partying, which was heated because the question stupidly being considered by several people in various stages of intoxication was, “Were South Indians cleaner than North Indians?”. We were all referencing our parents in our arguments for and against, as if we were still infants who hadn’t realized that we weren’t physically attached to them. Later, a Guju gf confided to me that she felt she had more in common with Southies, and not just because a Tamil family friend had taught her Mother how to make fantastic sambar…”No, it’s the cleanliness thing. I feel like with North Indians, the shoe thing is optional. My house? Not optional. Yours too, right??” Right. “But…aren’t you technically North Indian??”, I asked. She arched her back, squared her shoulders and sniffed at me. “I most certainly am not. I am Gujarati.”]
Back to the story within a story. So, after hearing about my possible first word(s), you won’t be surprised to hear about the time when I was five and my sister, in her stroller, had dropped her bottle on the sidewalk, in San Francisco. “Chee!” my mother hissed, grabbing it and swinging it above my baby sister’s dimpled, grasping hands. We were near the park, so it wasn’t so odd that we almost immediately encountered another stroller. That baby’s pacifier fell out, and bounced on the ground, twice. That mother stopped, shrugged, picked it up, wiped it on the back of her pants and popped it right back in her baby’s waiting mouth. I still remember the disgusted look on my mom’s face. “Why are Americans so dirty?” she muttered in Malayalam.
“Aren’t we Americans?”
“Where is your brain and smart mouth when Americans ask you that? You just stare at them, like you are a dumb. Of course we are. But we are clean ones.”
Beyond the fact that “Americans” seemed to be code for white people, I was perplexed by this new designation of “clean” vs. “dirty” Americans.
When I was growing up, there was no five-second rule; if it dropped, it got tossed, and yes, a “Chee! Dirty!” was usually uttered by someone in the vicinity, to commemorate the fallen.
Twenty-seven years after a scolding on a San Francisco sidewalk, my phone rang, on a street 3,000 miles from fog, hills and proper sourdough bread. I answered. It was my best friend.
“You have good timing!”
“Not really. You’re just uber-predictable. I knew you’d be free for a bit.”
“Hey…can I ask you if I overreacted to something?”
“hold on…let me clear my throat…I’ve got Dionne Warwick on the brain…”
I told her everything (obviously with less punctuation or consideration for detail) and by the time I got to the part where the assistant had returned from tossing the dirty cookies, only to pick up the innocent choc-
“GASP! NO!! That is NASTY. And on a freaking city street! Eww, eww, eww, eww, ewww.”
“Oh…wow. Thanks. I thought that maybe I was the weird one, since the other people weren’t bothered, but you caught it before I could even-”
“NO! Who does that? I mean, it’s one thing when you’re in a restaurant, I’ll grant you that you have no knowledge of what’s going on in the kitchen, etcetera…but to see it first-hand…I wouldn’t have been able to eat it, either. You’re not veird.”
I sighed with relief as I contemplated the odd mish-mash of feelings within. There are moments when I just feel more desi than I usually do, or when I’m reminded that I was raised differently. I’m not talking about being othered by others, I mean little eurekas of my own, about something just like this. Often, when I question myself about a reaction to something, the answer will float to my surface like one of Razib’s old comedic comments…
…Brown.”
“Gawd, why do you tell me this stuff? It’s like the time that guy at Au Bon Pain dropped all those bagels on the ground, made eye contact with you and STILL put them out to be sold. I couldn’t eat bagels for like, a year. Who are these narees?”
“I think they’re a tiny, indie…not exactly a storefront-in-dc type of establishment.”
“Good.”
“Yes. Your Marvelous Market addiction can continue, in peace.”
“Isn’t it amazing?”, she asked.
“What?”
“The ridiculously different standards we have about cleanliness, compared to others.”
Ah, there. I was not alone. Perhaps we never are, despite how we feel.
“Amazing and inconvenient”, I said. “My attempt at cookie-ing uncovered an…inconvenient truth.”
“That your parents raised you right?”
“Yeeeeah, let’s go with that one.”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Naree…is such a brilliant Malayalam word. It encompasses so much in its two potent syllables; it’s the epitome of “Chee! Dirty!”-osity. It’s one of the examples I think of when our seemingly-stodgy-about-certain-things Amitabh rails about the loss of languages and how that’s a tragedy. He is right to rail, because it is tragic, because words are magical, potent, precious. There are some things I just can’t say precisely, in English, and I’m not even THAT fluent in Malayalam; there are words (beyond kundi, silly) which are perfect for what I am thinking, even if they are in the “wrong” language, and those are the only words which my mind can or will summon, in that moment.
As for what “naree” means…well, I was never one of those who liked having a glossary in the back of a mehndi book; I visibly grimace when I see such things, unless it’s ironic, in which case the most annoying song ever gets stuck in my head.
I always thought that if you were a skilled enough writer, a strange word could be understood via context. I am no “skilled” anything, but this is one of the guidelines I attempt to consider when I am writing, “does this sentence and this sentence reveal what ‘kundi’ means, to a non-Mal speaker, in this paragraph?”
anna on October 18, 2007 07:15 PM in Humor, Identity, Musings · T·r·a·c·k·b·a·c·k address · Direct link · Email post
Americans dirty? You should see the people here. Sharing drinks, food, no wonder Epstein-Barr spreads so quickly in this country. Not to mention tramping in the house everywhere with shoes on. Cleaning lenses with saliva. Unfortunately I've assimilated some of their dirty habits as well as the good stuff. Aren't Americans supposed to be really anal about cleanliness? Wet wipes and disinfectants for every handle and seat in the metro. Germs are good for your immune system.
I feel like it's very all-or-nothing, i.e. either they walk around with anti-bac crap and cringe a lot (*cough*) or they are utterly sans souci.
okay i'm sorry i have to ask you this anna, but what does "naree" mean?
i'm mallu and can speak it informally and I keep saying "naree" to myself and can't recall it meaning anything like dirty. I think that there are so many accents or dialects depending what part of kerala you are from, and my malayalam is rudimentary as it is, that I'm not recognizing the word.
There's a horror story associated with that truly horrific practice. One of my favorite Australian boxers ended his career with one lick of the Oasys.
but really Anna, my mother's ability to detect micron-sized dirt particles on carpets, dishes and my hands (prior to every meal, funny enough) had me thinking for a long time that I was the least hygienic fellow on the planet. Then I went to college and lived in an all-male, mostly freshman dorm.
Heh, ^^#5 reminds me of how my mother can detect microscopic spots of chipping paint on the wall, nearly invisible scratches on the floors, tiny stains on the sofa, she can see a crumb from a mile away, etc. So I guess in that sense she is very neat. And she always told me to wash my hands after coming home, especially if I'd been on the subway, and still admonishes me for biting my nails for this reason. I have to admit though, that recently we went to the temple with another family and then went to their house, and my mother's friend asked if she wanted to wash her feet in the tub upstairs, and my mother declined (it wouldn't matter much because, to be honest, she doesn't take care of her feet anyway, unless I massage them with lotion... yes I am the best daughter ever). This friend of my mother's has talked before about some people from Guntur she has met who were very very dirty, and could have made a joke then about us being from Guntur, reputed to be the home of the dirtiest people in Andhra Pradesh. Any other Telugu folks care to corroborate on this?
It is jarring for me to visit the homes of friends who don't take their shoes off... it's just bizarre to me. But isn't it 'ironic' that we're talking about this we are mostly descended from a country full of these? And I'd be wary of being 'too' clean with respect to disinfectant, etc., simply because it's good for the immune system to have some things to fight off. And it makes me sad that my weakling Americanized immune system can't handle so much of the vendor food in India anymore. :(
oh and while I can totally understood how you couldn't eat the cookie anymore after seeing that ANNA, I have to admit that in my younger days (when I could still eat that much sugar... sigh), my ice cream fell off my ice cream cone into the grass and I just picked it up, put it back on, and ate it. My parents weren't around...
I'm a parent now, and my once high (ok, moderately high) standards for hygiene have taken a beating.
Example: baby throws his cracker down on the carpet, then picks it up. He puts it in his mouth. I do not protest. (Indeed, I'm actually happy that he's finally eating that damn cracker...)
My point: I know where the mommy with the baby in the stroller and the fallen pacifier is coming from now. Once your kid becomes dependent on a pacifier, taking it away from him/her becomes a very bad idea, especially if you're out in a public place. (Note: We don't actually use a pacifier, but I've seen it happen.)
To me, that's STILL not as bad as a DC street, covered with motor oil, mystery fluids, small dead things etc.
I always think of grass as being cleaner than I think...
See, so I was saying to my friend on the phone, "it would be one thing if this were home or even the office-"
and she was all, "you would eat something that fell on the floor in the OFFICE?"
but I mention all this to say I kinda see where you're coming from. I vacuum daily, mop, disinfect, don't wear shoes indoors etc. I think (I hope!) my floor is cleaner than 8th street. ;)
You are right, I'm not a parent and I've heard similar from my other friends with wee ones, that certain standards go out the window, usually due to desperation...but still, did the woman in my story have to wipe the pacificer on her butt? :D
-chuckle- I was waiting for a parent to chip in with something like that. I saw a friend evolve to your experiences with his first son. Then they had TWINS - and it was goodbye sanity. I got into their van the other day and found a reptile skull - apparently something a kid had dragged in. It's good fun. I think they do the dishes now by letting the dog lick it clean :-)
It's bitter sweet watching folks around my age turn into those they have mocked once kids happens, not that this is likely to happen to the good professor. For example, one child, and it's goodbye TTC and hello SUV. No more granola at $5.39 a pound - it's hitting the costco for a whale sized carton of noname corn flakes :-)
Totally relateable.
I think Americans and desis (or westerners and easterners) are both clean but in different ways, and both dirty, but in different ways. (I guess the ways in which desis are clean, Americans are dirty, and they way in which Americans are clean, desis are dirty.)
Indians tend to be cleaner when it comes to personal hygeine than Americans, whereas Americans are cleaner in regards their outside environment, fines for litering, etc.
In India you can find people who are extremely clean to the point of obsessive compulsive about their bodies and home, but just outside their front door is a huge, open garbage heap. In America you can find people obsessively clean about home or outside environment but they don't wash their hands after eating something like a burger or taco which requires using hands instead of utensils.
Also, to wake up in the morning and not take bath but lounge around the house in the clothes you slept in until 12 noon is considered a dirty and un-disciplined bad habit in India. In India you wake up and take bath immediately, or wake up, clean your house a bit, and then take bath before you proceed to sit down in front of the pc and surf net. Also, in many homes there is a shrine and the family member who does the worship at it wakes up early, baths, observes certain rules of cleanliness and proceeds to do the worship. Others who have not bathed yet are not to touch that person. This is called "sadachar", or rules of conduct in the mode of goodness (sattva), which is required for persons observing religion and things of that nature.
People who say things like, "they use their hands to wipe their butts", are not aware of the fact that water and oftentimes soap is used, and more often than not in many communities, full shower from head to toe is taken after going number 2, which is alot cleaner than just wiping with toilet paper.
The term "naree"; Is it comparable to "mleccha"??? The term "mleccha" is used by certain communities in India who follow strict rules of sadachar, to refer to persons from outside of India who do not follow such rules, or perhaps even to certain persons or communities within India's borders who do not follow them but have what are considered quite dirty habits like roasting and eating swine, etc.
Another thing, touching one's hand to the mouth, like biting nails and then touching something with that hand is "chee worthy". Likewise, biting on a pen is chee worthy. Also chee worthy to some is to touch your mouth to the opening of a water bottle or glass when drinking. The pen, bottle, glass or object that you touch with the nail you bit all become "juta" or contaminated.
General speaking I can understand the value of all of this, because it does spread germs to touch your mouth with something and then touch something else with that.
That is an excellent/interesting idea. Love the rest of the comment, too. Got me thinking. :)
Anna:
You should be thankful the guy didn't do a Poppie. Remember Seinfeld flinching when his pizza pie doesn't get handled by clean hands? :-)
Remember the COUCH? So gross!
not where the dogs walk!!!
I agree fully with Amardeep, your cleanliness standards lower when you have a little one.
It's not so much desperation as much as you just can't control everything with the little ones. They drop cookies, treats, etc. and before you can say "no, dirty!", they've popped it back into their mouths.
There are some Americans who live by the Puritan code of "Cleanliness is next to Godliness" and there are those who find having high standards to be inconvenient.
A N N A, good call on pointing out the tainted gloves...oh wait, I feel a song coming on: Tainted glove...oh oh oh...tainted glove...once I ran from you...
Shall I tell you about the time I saw the cook exiting the restroom who was still wearing his gloves? Please ignore the dangling participle.
'Naaari' derives from 'naattam'
oh that makes a lot of sense - I've only heard "natham" (how I'd pronounce it though I do have bad malayalam) which to me resonates with someone scrunching up their nose. When I hear naree, I'm thinking "nary" - just doesn't sound like a bad word to me.
It's more "nthaa-ree" vs. "nery" (nary). :)
PS, is your fam from central Kerala?
the irony of Indians in so many of our experiences, being obsessed with clean, is that I've heard that a common stereotype of Indians/south asians is that they stink. But I think that is b/c of the smell of the spices we use in our food which is probably unusual smelling to people not used to it and clings to our clothes.
PS, is your fam from central Kerala?
I'd say north Kerala - from Kannur or also spelled Cannanore.
I've heard my mom sometimes conversing with malayalee friends from south kerala and they tease her about her pronounciation/accent.
ai ai ai ai ai chee-chee eck. This is as good a time as any to reiterate my half-baked theory that mild compulsivity is an evolved (whether socially or genetically) trait aiding survival. It's less important in the cleaner First World but utterly practical whence we all came. We all have stories about the mild OCD of our relatives; most particular in my mind is that of my Uncle Eddie, who had three sets of slippers which only stayed in their particular areas of the house so as not to contaminate the bedroom, kitchen, et cetera. I'm closing in on that myself.
I concur with nala on the ol' immune system, though; destroy too many bugs and we lack the ability to fight them off.
I meant bald!
Anandos, I don't know, I liked "blad", myself. "You know I'm BLAD, I'm BLAD...Come On, You Know (Blad Blad-Really, Blad)". ;)
::
PS, my family is from central. People from the North can't understand me...neither can those from Trivandrum, for that matter. It's so interesting how certain words or usages can place us on a Malabar map. :)
boooooooo. . .
This moment of intelligent commentary brought to you by anandos.
just want to add that naree is my ABSOLUTE favorite malayalam word:) depending on how much disdain and emphasis you put into pronouncing it, it's quite satisfying. my favorite manglish phrase is "what an ultra-naree". i'm squealing in glee:)
it's weird...i used to be uber spotless when i had 4 other roomies. now that i'm living solo, i've loosened up a ton. i'm not a slob, but i don't dust as often as i should, junk mail gets scattered, and my mirrors aren't windexed but once a month!
overall, i think an indian household tends to be swept/mopped more frequently, while many american households have a layer of cat/dog hair on their couches (all of my friends have cats!). but, i do see more indian men picking their noses in public...and i have my doubts on the number of people who soap after wiping themselves with their hands. Hep A and E scare me!
It's certainly an unusual transformation - I used to be completely blasé about food in India. Here in the US I'm much more careful about what I eat - trans fat level, empty carb level, cholesterol, sodium, whatever else is in there. But then, 8 years back in India I would have recoiled in horror at the mention of dosa with sour cream and ketchup. Now I think more about "How much Nutella can I mix with my gongura rice without exceeding daily fat amounts?". The concept of "clean" and "dirty" has changed for me as much as my sense of "good food", veering away from tradition to whatever is held to be healthy.
ria: not where the dogs walk!!!
You mean, "Not where the dogs pee or poop."
I hate it when the guy who makes my wrap from scratch drops the sauce tubes on the floor, picks them up with his gloved hands and continues to fix my meal. That's just gross, especially when you live in downtown New Orleans, and I'm reporting it ASAP.
There was a article in the New England Journal of Medicine that concluded the obsessive behavior with cleaning products in the US is partially responsible for the increase in allergies/asthma.
As a poster mentioned earlier... wait until you have kids. Make that two in diapers... we'll see where your standards go...
Truth in food changes every six months. One is off better eating traditionally cooked foods - regardless of country of origin - and then exercising. Both food and exercise in moderation.
Maitri: You mean, "Not where the dogs pee or poop."
Have you ever watched grasshoppers or daddy long legs(s? es?) walk around in the grass? Their poop is VISIBLE TO THE NAKED EYE! Just think about how many insects are trolling around in that grass, and how much they defecate in it...ugh.
Yes, we'll see. My parents must have been miracle-workers to keep their standards up, with TWO kids. More recently, the months I spent living with my Godson and keeping him clean/washing my hands before I touched him/after I changed him etc were probably a hallucination. ;)
On a sincere note, both of my best friends from h.s. and college are now mothers of little boys...and they are still as clean as I am, if not more so, so I think it's possible to remain persnickety; if it's a huge part of your personality, I think it is probable. I think we tend to mimic our parents and if I do that...I'll have kids who are so clean, they'll be constantly sick, just like I am! Yay!
...forgot to add, they're not even brown! One's a Persian Jew, the other is Pinay. Their parents were just like mine. Clean-freaks. No pets indoors. Daily dusting/vacuuming. Washing infant butts vs. diaper wipes. Etcetera ad awesome parentums.
Warning; CRASS Generalisation Alert.
I think it depends. Indians are sloppier with hair falling in food. Whites are not.
DBD and some ABD Indians like to wash their behinds after wiping. Whites just wipe and wash when they got to prep for some action.
Indians dont mind eating with their hands, but wash their hands carefully after they do so. Whites look down upon it, but when they do happen to eat with their hands, they think napkins are good enough after eating.
Indians(mainly DBDs) like to clean their tongues. Whites are erratic about this, but will brush more often.
Anna, if you watch Kitchen Nightmares episode on Dillon's Indian restaurant(renamed Purnima's) in NYC, you will not go to a restaurant again. The episode is on the FOX website.
Ugh, ugh, ugh...maybe for Halloween. Sounds appropriately scary.
i LOVE warm chocolate chip cookies.. yumm!
I love Doubletree cookies. Whenever I stay at a Doubletree, i pretty much get half of my roomrate paid for with free cookies.
Mmmmm cookies.
You know what, this is a real cute little bit of prose. I loved reading it, especially at 4 am when for no reason I just propped up in my bed and felt like reading something. This is a delightful little piece.
Points for extreme cutness!
Grass isn't clean. It's just as filthy as the sidewalk, perhaps even more. I know in the USA everyone is required to pick up after their dogs but not so in my country. Except in the town where I live. This place is spotless compared to my hometown. Actually, swimming pools are REALLY gross, despite the chlorine. You'll never know until you've actually been at the bottom of the pool.
I'm afraid that ever since I've moved out I've turned into even more of a slob than I already was. My parents refuse to set a foot into my room and don't want to know the horror stories. I haven't vacuumed in two weeks and have never properly cleaned my desk with soap and water. There are crumbs and clothes lying everywhere. :)
Since I'm in molecular biology I have to keep sterile when working on my experiments. Which means repeated desinfection with special ultra-strength soaps and chlorine. Which is not good for your skin. It kills all the good bacteria and dries out your skin. So remember, don't wash your hands more than necessary. :)
I share a floor in a flat with 15 other people. There are 10 floors with 16 residents each. All your previous standards go out of the window as soon as you move into a student flat. Cheap rent, shared facilities and a cleaning roster. Those who dont clean up in the appointed week encounter a punitive fine, unfortunately there are still some who would forsake cleaning for the fine. Actually, my dad's the one who spots dirt from miles off. He claims to have seen flats in Brooklyn, NYC that look better than ours. The kitchen is especially filthy. I've seen some horrific toilet situations as well. Though my house is not nearly as bad as the all-male frat houses elsewhere in the rather picturesque neighbourhood I live in.
Actually, Anna, I find your sentiment pretty bizarre. I understand that America's disinfectant culture is striking deep roots - obviously - but to me, even the contention that the first two cookies needed to be thrown away is wasteful. Car tyres are hardly the nastiest infection-vectors you can imagine.
It really isnt my intention to sound self-righteous, although I'm about to. I cannot believe that we're talking about Indians being so hygienic they'd throw away food that touched the ground. Quite apart from the obvious fact that most Indians couldn't afford a treat like a street-stained chocolate chip cookie if they wanted to, the culture of preserving food has a far stronger sway here than the culture of hygiene, if you can call it that. Trashing cookies that fell on the ground would be disgraceful, as it still seems to me; in most parts of India - and what else is India? - it would be a fantasy of waste and indulgence.
The Indian obsession with washing and taking off shoes has less to do with hygiene (as a way to counter disease) than it has to do with Brahminical notions of cleanliness (as a way to counter impurity). It sound very much the same way in your case. A much better analogy than the one you made between taking off shoes and throwing away food is the one between taking off shoes and not sharing food (ecchal in Kannada.
I can't believe somebody would expend close to 3000 words on a thunderous build-up to something so trivial. I think the next time you go out shopping, you oughta get yourself some REAL problems so you have some perspective on what's worth writing a jeremiad about.
Wow, bitchy. I can't believe you chose to expend all that energy on one inane comment.
I must ask: Pravin, how much time have you spent in the restroom with "whites who wipe"?
Bidets: It's not just for Europeans!
I cannot believe that we're talking about Indians being so hygienic they'd throw away food that touched the ground. Quite apart from the obvious fact that most Indians couldn't afford a treat like a street-stained chocolate chip cookie if they wanted to, the culture of preserving food has a far stronger sway here than the culture of hygiene, if you can call it that.
But I don't think when people are reciting their experiences with cleanliness we're talking about Indians or Americans living in dire poverty. Poverty brings a completely other facet into cleanliness. When many people are talking about cleanliness in Indian homes, I would think they are just referring to their average middle-class household, which probably most SM-ers come from - anyone who lives in dire poverty, whether its the US, India, or wherever will have a different perspective on cleanliness.
#45 Meena: Wow. I can't believe you just expended all that energy on your fascinating family history, and the even more fascinating account of how to ward off bacteria after coming into contact with grass.
#47 ... PS, people experiencing dire poverty are only the most extreme case where the instinct to preserve food applies.
In the many economic brackets between the direly poor and the average middle-class household (which, I should point out, does not get served by waitstaff in latex gloves) and between the average middle-class household and the upper-class, you will find that instinct - I would call it a value - reiterated again and again. You'll find homemakers selectively cleaning moulds out of jars of jam so that what remains can be eaten. I daresay that is going to make Anna go "eww, eww, eww, ewww!" but its a habit that is informed, not necessarily by the personal experience of deprivation, but by the apprehension of its existence. Food, quite simply, is not wasted until it is clearly and completely compromised.
Moreover, we're talking about Indians, right? As tempting as it is to conflate "the households most SM-ers come from" with "Indians," posts like this make it seem increasingly inaccurate. Frankly, I think its careless and almost offensive to generalize to Indians some standard of hygiene that is only feasible in the first world, if at all.
FYI- "Tara Bohra" and "Nizam of Sarakki" are the same IP. This is a perfect example of why we prohibit handle-switching. When you're making a strong point and you create another handle to agree with yourself/flame others you disagree with, that's not right.
Please stick to one handle per thread.
Other things to keep in mind, especially since many of you are new to the Mutiny:
- This is blog written by people who were born and/or raised in this country, not India
- Posts filed under "musings" are just that (Musing: contemplation: a calm lengthy intent consideration)
Next time you are outraged that someone has the nerve to worry about unsanitary practices, when in India that would be wasteful and indulgent or when you think that a topic "wasn't worth writing about", kindly keep both of those in mind. You'll be less upset if you do.
I don't know if cleanliness is a particularly "desi" thing. Even within my own family, there are folks who, in my opinion, have appallingly low standards of cleanliness and others who have OCD-like obsessions with it. I also don't think it's a north vs. south issue, either. I think it varies by family/person, and that we assume that because everyone in our social circle does it, everyone who is not in our social circle does not. I do remember being surprised, though, when I first started visiting people who didn't take off their shoes going into their homes, let their animals run amok outside and inside the house, etc.
Almost (or perhaps equally) gross as dropping stuff on the street is the appallingly low number of people who wash their hands after using the restroom. I'm one of those people who always has a crazy paper-towel based routine for opening up the restroom door for exactly that reason.
As far as house cleanliness, I have seen no trend whatsoever that Indian homes are cleaner than White Homes. The only difference being that Indians tend to remove their footwear a lot more often. IN fact, the curry smell in some Indian homes makes me want to wash my clothes after some visits. I remember avoiding wearing my better coats before I used to visit some family friends house for dinners.
I am a sloppy guy. I am clean with food(no food on the floor). But I am very messy with paper. My white roommates were always less messier than I was(well, with one exception, one was a total slob with food).
I have been to Indian controlled Dunkin Donuts (isnt that a lil redundant. OK, hush, PC police). And I think Anna might reconsider feeling "extra brown" when she observes the way some of these employees handle the donuts. That chocolate chip cookie will look a whole lot more appetizing after she witnesses the lack of meticulous use of gloves or someone sneezing near the donuts. Once again, major generalization here. Actually employees sneezing but not taking enough care to sneeze in another direction and then not taking the care to wash their hands after that is a pet peeve of mine regardless of who runs the establishment.
PS @ #47 said:
Are you saying that poor people are dirty or middle-class people are wasteful?
gen_xer made a great point in #31. Personally, I'm more disgustified by those nasty latex gloves than bare hands. Latex gloves conjure images of hospitals and proctologists in my mind, images which evoke disease, not sterility...and even the word "sterile" does not carry a purely positive connotation in my twisted mind. I think the only place I wouldn't put my mouth is on some money--now that's some nasty shiznit!
Ummm I am going to have to go ahead and disagree with you there Peter.
Keeping impurity out is a way of controlling disease. Granted, it is not the best way to do it, but it is a start. Now you have to remember that back in the day, there were no disinfectants. I will give you an example. People use cow dung to clean the floors after you have eaten on it. Besides the fact that it is used to keep the floor intact (think mud floors), it is also a disinfectant
We can keep going round and round, there is always a germ killing / avoiding factor, given the limited scientific knowledge they had back in the day. Sharing food, same thing. You do not want another persons saliva in your food.
I partly agree with this statement. I was always taught that food is god and you just do not waste it. Then again, no one cleaned mold out of the Jam, we made sure that we avoided the mold to begin with.
And latex gloves are in. The last time I went to a wedding (in India), the people serving food were dressed, hair covered, wearing gloves.
Personally, I have to agree with PS, because the quote sums up my thoughts.
IMO it's all overrated..once in a while it is good to eat dirty food (unintentionally and intentionally) and get sick and then get better..keeps your immune system healthy. This story reveals perfect example of typical ABD syndrome.
I am not a stickler for gloves either unless the handler has less than good hands. Cut the nails, trim the hangnails, wash it often and I wont freak if he or she handles the food. I actually prefer those little waxy sheets they use to handle the donuts and cookies to use of gloves.
Watch it, please.
Even if you weren't ignoring the fact that plenty of ABDs are disagreeing with her, your statement was uncalled for.
I think it's all relative. (White) Americans probably think that brown folks who eat with their hands are dirty, that brown men who grow an extra long pinky fingernail are strange, that going around barefoot in a non-carpeted house is dirty, that bathing in a room that gets flooded every time a bucket and pail are emptied is unsanitary, that combing Vatika oil into your tresses is dirty, etc.
We're all clean and all dirty in different ways. Anna - I can 100% relate to my initial judgements being SO DESI when I observe people around me...
SM..I take back my hasty generalization statement (perhaps not the faulty one).
I am a DBD and both my parents are very concerned about cleanliness. Although they don't have enough time to keep everything clean (both are working). When I was little, just to keep me and my sister occupied, they would scatter a bunch of peanuts on the floor and I would pick and eat each one of them. The floor was clean enough for that. And for putting salt when we ate lunch/dinner. Anyway, what surprises me is how dirty I am when I stay away from them in a hostel. There is some sort of transformation that occurs and I never end up keeping the hostel room clean. This is not to say that it stinks, just a lot of dust on the PC and any other infrequently used items.
A N N A: I am glad you at least have inherited the cleanliness from your parents. I wish I had.
P.S.: Is SM Intern a blogger or just the poojari?
I am a DBD and a veggie at that. Once in US, I made myself get used to the idea that the veggie-non veggie kitchens are not separate as in some of the restaurants back home. But it still freaks me out when I see my subway sandwich being made by the same gloved hands that made a chicken/beef sandwich a second ago. Is it considered rude to ask them to change their gloves?
I Would say no. the customer is always right. you are paying them money. you deserve good service. money is hard to earn. why give it away for bad service?
Interesting point about Asians being natural roomies. I roomed with an Indonesian Chinese girl, two Koreans and a (token) white girl. I miss those days because I had to have it pointed out to me how 'multicultural' our apartment was; hadn't even thought about it.
Dirty secrets on sex and hygiene
Kind things first: towannagetsapankha, thank you, that was a very sweet comment. :)
::
Camille:
It's not crazy, I do it, too, right after I use my elbow for the paper towel dispenser. And I'm more bothered by lack-of-post-poo-handwashing than dropping stuff on the street, easily.
Pravin:
I guess I should be thankful that (AFAIK) we don't have Dunkin' in DC. :)
I don't have a finite amount of disgust. I'm also horrified when people sneeze near food, it's why I try and avoid salad bars and the like. And before someone else brings it up, I would NEVER cut someone desi slack for improper food handling. It's like that ancient ('92) Cross Colors slogan..."Naree see no color".
Nizam:
Just to clarify, I was not writing about Indians in India or "who can afford what", so please don't manipulate my "musings" to make it seem like I'm a privileged, trifling, first world-twat-- now I might be exactly that, but it sure as hell ain't because of this.
Proper food handling is a right, not a privilege. There are LAWS about this, I don't pull this stuff out of my ass. I don't claim to speak for people in India. I was born and raised here. The last time I went to India, it was 1989. I write from the perspective of a second-generation (South) Asian American...which is what the majority of bloggers, readers and lurkers here are. Trolls, I don't know about, so, like life in India, I won't speak to that. ;)
I find your handle-switching bizarre, so we're even!
This wasn't about whether the cookies should be tossed; this was about touching the filthy street with food-handling gloves, which may or may not have been latex and THEN cross contaminating other food by touching it with the same gloves. That's stupid, reckless, lazy and disgusting. Look, the whole reason I went at the start of the Market was because after the first 15 minutes of open-air vending, flies are on everything and I won't eat those cookies, either.
If one is truly concerned about deprivation, if one is aware of its existence, one would not allow food to mold in the first place. If we value food, we'd store AND handle it properly. We don't allow it to be compromised.
And finally Nizam, for the record, it was my friend who went "eww, eww, eww". :)
Tara Bohra:
And I can't believe you felt the need to possibly switch handles to say that. :)
I do have real problems, but that doesn't mean I will or have to blog about them. Your prescription for perspective is insensitive and unnecessary. :(
koppakabana:
I would think it's strange, too. :) I've never encountered this. That's the best part of threads like this-- I learn about other parts of India, stuff I haven't been exposed to. Anyone know about the long pinky nail thing? I'm curious.
I do not see why it is rude. You are allowed to customize your order, with no meat and that goes for the gloves too.
The places I go to regularly, they know it's coming. I do not have to ask anymore, the guy goes, "I did not touch meat" or changes his gloves as soon as he sees me. It's kinda funny.
heh heh. That reminds me of when I used to karate kick the flush bar of those urinals instead of using my hands to flush.
Thank god for automatic flushers. Also notice how guys will progressively stand further behind a urinal as the day goes by to avoid stepping in someone else's pee.
And regarding the link in Khoofia's comment(#67), it is funny when some of the older DBDs will go "chee chee" when they see a lot of tongue kissing on tv. I am also odorphobic when doing you know what with you know who.
Spelling of my handle was accidentally changed.
Oy, all this sandwich talk is making me hungry. I hope it's stopped raining. Suddenly, I have an inkling of what happens to all of you when I put up dosa pr0n, and you live in a city which doesn't have a Southie restaurant. :)
this phrase reminds me of the movie 'idiocracy' when "frito" is watching the "m@strubation network", and the show hes watching is "feet and food".
when i was a kid most of the DBD parents used to spend A LOT of time talking about how "americans" are "filthy"...never knew what to make of it. didnt think of it for years, till now.
Anyone know about the long pinky nail thing? I'm curious.
And they are uncleaned + colored. And once I actually saw that, I stopped buying from that vendor, which previously used to be my favorite for this.
I have mixed feelings about sanitation, hygiene and general cleanliness. I generally trust people who are in the food business, as opposed to the retail business. Hence, I wouldnt blink twice if the baker picked up a couple of loafs and placed it on the counter for me - but would not be comfortable if the cashier did the same. Also brings back memories of a time I worked in a kitchen. I sliced my hand open and remember someone recommending I put on a glove before getting back in the line. I put it on of course - but couldnt help thinking about it. You see, we were serving beef or pork in various shades of pink - surely human blood would be more salubrious than a cow or pig who's been eating feces or bugs and generally lounging around shit and shaking with vermin. And seriously, has anyone been on a fishing boat and seen the kidn of crap that gets pulled in.
I wrote an essay about how my desi-born family finds it disgusting that Americans eat breakfast before they brush their teeth in the morning.
"Chee chee chee chee, they swallow all those germs that have been festering in their mouths all night!"
Anna's take on Desi's being uber-clean was news to me.
I don't know if it's because I'm in public health, but I have very little fear of germs because (1) I know the importance of being exposed to them, (2) Seriously, there's more germs on your keyboard (no matter how hard you clean) than on a toilet seat.
But I clean my keyboard daily with a Clorox wipe. :(
As for your first point, I guess your second means I'll be okay. ;)
Interesting discussion. I've found great variation among desi folks (both ABD and DBD) when it comes to cleanliness. Although, I have to say that the hyperclean regardless of where they are from are sometimes difficult to handle ...I had some acquaintances over for dinner and consider myself to be a fairly clean person - this woman started freaking out over little things and has taught her small baby to wince and be ultra sensitive about cleanliness - which was annoying for me as a host - I think it interferes with social interaction where others are put on the defensive because some folks have very high expectations of cleanliness. Other than that - its each to their own.
Also, related -- don't know if any of you have been following the rather dramatic news stories about killer staph infections in this country - the reports all came out this week about how Staph infections now kill more people more AIDS per year here in the US. The interesting thing in all these articles was that all the doctors and public health folks were really against anti-bacterials and ultra-sanitizing - the argument of course is that when you use anti-bacterial soaps too often you kill the good bacteria along with the bad and that only makes bacteria more vicious and resistant - and also makes our immune systems weaker because we are not letting the body battle it out....of course, most of us knew that but its good to remind ourselves that a little mess is a good thing people! Of course, speaking from personal experience (a sample of one, mind you) - I do find that my immune system is a lot less robust now than say 15 years ago when I lived in India......After seeing all that discussion about not sanitizing too much - I heaved a huge sigh of relief that I dont need to obsess -- its so easy to get anal about this.
Also, Anna - I have mallu family via marriage (I am not mallu - but am a southie) - have to say most mallus I've met are huge neat/clean freaks....which in general I am OK with as long as I am not forced to do what I dont want to do... again each to their own as long as they are not making others miserable.
Anna said:
Seriously? Daily? Wow. In that case I think you've effectively brought #1 back in concern.But really, the whole super germ thing is more scary than coming into contact with every day ones.
Whew! I was starting to wonder if it was merely my, Maitri's, Karthik's and Puli's families which were the odd ones out. :) Hmm, maybe this desire for order IS a Southie disorder. ;)
Well, that's what I try to live by, too. I hope I don't give any impression otherwise. I was not forced to buy the cookie and I didn't. I didn't counsel others against buying, in fact, I wrote that I was a bit envious of the woman who wasn't bothered by the cross-contamination, because those cookies are wonderful. Be that as it may, the taboo is too powerful for me to overcome.
These are all highly personal issues, and I want to thank you mutineers for keeping it respectful, especially since for some of us, this is just a typical, meandering thread where we discuss what we have the choice to do...whereas for others, the compulsive desire to be clean isn't an optional decision. I'm just putting that out there, for the sake of a friendly reminder (after I received a friendly reminder from one of you).
In my family, they frown on tasting food you are cooking unless you use a separate spoon, especially the stews or soups.
Obviously, I will defer to you, because you are in public health and I am not, but this is the way I view the situation: I am going to be exposed to germs no matter what, despite cleaning my keyboard, my cellphone (weekly) and using my paper towel to open the bathroom door (thank you, cleaning staff, for wisely leaving the trash can right by it!). I accept this and I'm aware of this. But even though I'm going to be exposed to germs anyway, does that mean I should let other things which are within my control be dirty/throw my hands in the air, wave them all around like I just don't care and embrace defeat? :)
There is more at play, here; to me, the emotional relief I get from washing my hands before I touch food, even while eating out, is worth whatever risk you say I am taking by being persnickety. I won't enjoy my food if I haven't washed my hands. I'll be grossed out and uncomfortable...so sometimes (a lot of times, maybe, b/c people don't want to admit that this is a part of the reasoning behind cleanliness) this is more about mental health than physical, if that makes sense.
Also, I do read and pay attention to the news. ;) Well, and I obey my mother. Once she explained the danger of O.D.ing on the anti-bac everything, I started making sure that I was buying hand soap which wasn't, etc. I'm starting to think that (with the whole staph infection thing, which is truly scary) others are viewing people like me the way I view people who eat chicken which has been pumped full of antibiotics. I blame them, you blame me, ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
Same. My mom always poured rasam/sambar et al in the palm of her cupped hand, then sipped it.
Though unless you cool it first by blowing into it and letting it wait a while in the ladle - I imagine it can be very - scaldingly - hot, especially rasam! Not that I've ever made rasam (made sambar just once in my life - so far) :)
She flips chapathi with no spatula, too. Her hands are ridiculous when it comes to handling hot food. :)
Yes, in India the floors are marble or concrete or tile and part of the "daily routine" is to sweep and mop in the morning. Also, more Indians than Americans have hired help which is a great load of one's back when keeping a house clean. Carpets which are used much more in America hold allergens like pet hair in them and it is very dirty, in my opinion.
The people in India who can afford to buy a regular supply of soap are the ones who are soaping up after wiping themselves.
In one sense this is true. Religion is tied to daily domestic life, "daily routines", in India way more than it is tied to daily life here in USA. Whatever one's religion, there is a worship center where high standards of cleanliness are kept. As most Indians tend to bring their religion home and have routines centered around it, whether it is morning and evening puja in the shrine room just off the kitchen or daily recitation of Koran or Bible, the same standards followed in the formal public place of worship are followed in the home as well, albeit more relaxed.
If one is Hindu the kitchen becomes an extended shrine and high levels of cleanliness are kept there; separate plates for offering to the deity on the alter and separate plates for humans to eat off of. No licking out of the blender or cooking bowls either. Several brahmin communities still do not allow non family members into their kitchen, guests are kept in living room.
Overall there is much more "structure" to domestic life in India than I find here in USA. This can be a great help to people like myself who tend to get lazy without a full schedule of routines.
I was just wondering about this. While I don't have pets, I do have allergies, so I'm thinking of getting rid of the carpet in my apt (which has wood floors anyway), after being advised to consider it by my doc.
I rinse and will brush very lightly before brea