Girl Talk

Today the electricity (or as they say here "current") went out during work. As a result, no one could do much because the computers were off. For a while everyone helped rearrange "the library", composed of three hefty book cases. Afterword, Raja left to go to another one of our offices. Tamil also took off on his scooter, again commenting about girls from the neighboring high school looking at him (I love Tamil… but he is so eccentric). We of course said it was because he was a monkey and "Hey, korungal [monkey]! Do you want a banana?" I claim ownership of this last joke.

With Raja and Tamil gone, this left just us girls. We sat in the shade and on the steps of the veranda. Everyone taught me more Tamil words: "po"! Go! "Naanam" Me too. "Neeam" You too. Then we went through the whole round of calling each other akkaa, older sister, and tanggachi, younger sister. When I learn a new phrase and use it, they always laugh. So I of course try my best to perpetuate the laughter, talking to random people walking by on the street.

Then it wore off and we just sat quietly. Sita, of course, had scrounged up some flowers from somewhere and was tying them together to put in my hair.

{Agila on the left and Sita on the right.}


I looked at Agila and Nandhini sitting on either side of me. Both of them are still single. I had the urge to lean back on my elbows and say, "Sooooo…how is dating going?" Then I remembered our cultures' concepts of dating are completely different.

Instead I asked them, with some hesitation, if they were going to have arranged marriages. They replied that yes, they were. Love marriages are extremely risky, since marrying someone outside of one's caste means losing his/her family's support and relationship. Most family would tell him/her to go, get married, but never come back.

Nandhini and Agila then explained to me the formalities of arranging marriages. It has a lot to do with jataakum, numerology -- matching up the girl and boy according to various formulas that take into account the day and date of their births, etc. And of course, caste plays a big part, as well as the opinion's of both sets of parents. If both parents are thus far satisfied with numerology, caste, standing of the prospective partner's family, and various other factors, they arrange for the girl and boy to meet. First, the boy and his family will come to the girl's home to meet her and her family. If both are still satisfied, the vice versa occurs. Then more meetings. If all goes well, a marriage date is set at least three months in advance, and always on an auspicious day. The soon-to-be couple then have the time before the wedding to get to know each other.

With all that being said, I want to make clear that I am summarizing. Secondly, all of this is according to Agila and Nandhini. I assume this process can vary from region to region. I do know the wedding length varies from caste to caste. The higher one's caste, the longer the wedding is. A higher caste can have a four to five day wedding.

After Nandhini explained all of this to me, which took a long time, we again sat in silence for a couple of seconds. Then Agila asks about formalities of how one comes to be married in America.

Of course my response began with, "Uhhmmmm…" How in the world do I explain it? I started, "Well, you have this horrible thing called dating, where you…" blah blah blah. I didn't say the "horrible" part, but…yeah. When I explained it, the process sounded so foreign and odd after hearing about marriage in India. I explained it all, or rather tried to explain, in a couple of minutes.

All Agila said was, "I like this."

This perplexed me, as the Western way of dating and marriage has its own problems. I wasn't trying to convince them our way was better, but rather had merely tried to describe it in response to Agila's question.

The three Indian women spoke in Tamil for a bit. From Nandhini's hand motions and the fact that many here say more modern words in English (Tamil is so old of a language that there are no words for more contemporary concepts), I could tell she was explaining more details to Agila and Sita. I also could tell that the topic of divorce came up.

This was brought up by Sita, the only married one. And of course, she loving her family so much, also asked, "Kids! What about the kids!" What happens to the kids when a divorce happens?

A long discussion ensued. Nandhini and I discussed and tried to explain to the other two both the pros and cons of the U.S.-American way. I attempted to explain the West's more individualistic values, and how that also comes with its vices.

It was a good talk. I mostly defend the Indian side of things, and always point out that U.S.-America and the West is not all happiness and wealth. With so-called "modernity" also comes the loss of something important, and something which I feel our "modern" society needs to remember. I'm not sure what this "something" is. I cannot pinpoint it with words, but I know it is a conglomeration of many things.

I know that I have never seen families as close-knit as I have here. I have never been more touched by a mother's love for her children. I know that the families I have visited in the villages, devoid of toilets or electricity, seem to have so much more peace and simplicity amid the rice paddies and the farm fields. Perhaps this is all merely a delusion created from my own perspective, always tainted with my experiences of Western society no matter how hard I try to pull the U.S. American lenses from my eyes.

When the conversation meandered off, I went back home for lunch. The neighborhood kids all stopped me to talk to me and listen to the few Tamil things I know. "Auntie! Auntie!" they'll cry until I stop to talk to them.

I felt lighter and a lot happier.