Incognito

I was in New York City during the weekend, which is why I've been absent from here for a few days. I have a lot of email to respond to, but I'll have something substantial here soon. :)

In the meantime, I wanted to tell you all about something I overheard on the bus. Me and my group got on first and commandeered the back of the bus, and soon after a group of three desi guys, who situated themselves in the next block of seats closest to us, speaking in Hindi. I was able to understand almost everything they were saying, and was trying not to eavesdrop until they started talking about my group. Nothing bad - just general stuff. 

"Don't sit over there, I think one of those ladies has their stuff on that seat"

"Why are five girls taking up 12 seats"

"There's plenty of seats on the bus - no on is sharing a row"

"I know, bhai, but I wanted to sit in the back and lay down in the back row"

I had all but forgotten them when I heard a conversation start between them - all three of them - and a white lady on the bus sitting in front of them. She'd asked about what they were eating because it smelled so good. "Is that a 'hero?'" she asked.

You should have seen those desi boys. It was like they'd finally gotten their chance to hit on a white girl and they were going to use it for all it was worth! One of theme was giving her directions to the gyro stand in NYC, one was giving her a recipe, one was telling her about "halal" food and how you can't get good gyros (pronounced ji-row) where we were headed. 

I so badly wanted to help them out. Let them know that "gyro" is pronounced like "hero" sometimes. Let HER know that when they said capsicum they meant bell pepper. Tell them all about a good gyro place near where we were going. But I didn't have the guts. Or the time. The conversation very quickly died down when the lady mentioned her husband. And three children.

Edit: Millz in the comments suggests they might have been talking about this place!

By The Way...

You can always tell that I have something else I should be doing when there are suddenly four (now five) posts in the same day. I'm what you might call a procrastinator. 

Back to studying now, I s'pose.

Shalwar Kameez

Shalwar Kameez. The Pakistani outfit. My nemesis. 

Not really, but I do have a fair bit of trouble with it. The shirt is long and the pants are W I D E, so it can be a bit cumbersome. It's hard to know what's in fashion and I fear that no matter what, everything my mother-in-law sends me is actually way way out of fashion. People are always looking at me to see if I'm wearing American clothes or Shalwar Kameez, like it's some party trick to show up in shalwar kameez (at which point I'll have to endure questions about how I like it...)

LuckyFatima asked me (back on this post when I shamelessly solicited for blog ideas) about my experiences with shalwar kameez, "shopping, tailoring, choosing a design, wearing, etc." 

First up I guess would be wearing. I don't really mind shalwar kameez, which literally translates to "pants shirt." It's wide, billowy pants that cinch around the waist with a rope (or elastic if you Pakistani mother in law thinks you might not be able to handle the zarban) and a long tunic with slits halfway up the sides. The length and width and cut of the material varies as fashion dictates. Apparently when my mother in law was a young newlywed in the 70's, kameez, or shirts, where not really that long. As with all fashion, that shorter-shirt style has come back into fashion just recently. But I've seen some where the shirt reached way past the knees, too! 

I don't mind the shirt at all, and in fact I love to wear it paired with jeans. I've never been a fan on the shalwar, or billowy pants, though. It's just too much material, and it's insubstantial compared to the jeans I wear every day. Plus, when I'm wearing jeans & a kameez (or kurta, which is similar) I feel like it represents my 1/2 of both identities. And people always stop me to say what a pretty top I'm wearing. 

The last component of the shalwar kameez outfit for women is the dupatta. It's a scarf that women wear, and shalwar kameez is sold as a 3-piece set just for that reason. Sometimes women use the scarf as a hijab to cover their hair, sometimes they just drape it over their bodies, and sometimes they drape it over and wear a different hair-cover. Now THAT thing is a pain in the butt. It's long, sometimes four feet, and it's always in the way, or stuck in the door, or getting splashed near the sink! In the early years I would not even use it, but it's like - scandalous! - to be without a dupatta when we're in Pakistan, so I'd take it along when we left the house.

When you're a mother, though, you realize the wonder that is the dupatta! Imagine having an always-accesible baby wipe! Need to clean some hands or wipe a nose? Dupatta! Need to dry out a baby's bottle? Dupatta! (use a different corner than the nose-wipe one, though. Ick!)

Really, it's just time that helps one deal with the dupatta, and eventually you'll be as adept with it as the desi girls are, whipping it around into all sorts of positions and fashions. Except for that one crazy fabric that's always poufy. I still look like a fool when I wear shalwar kameez made out of that fabric.

Ladies, if you struggle with your dupatta, I like this site for the basic styles to wear a dupatta. (Oh yes, there are ADVANCED ones out there too!) Just practice in your mirror, and safety-pin it in various positions so that you're not constantly fussing with it. But remember not to safety-pin too much, or you'll have to find someone to help you go to the bathroom. (Hypothetically.....speaking.....of course.)

Next up: Tailors! Fabric! Designs! Oh my!

Ask The Gori Wife

One of my favorite things about this blog is that I get a fair bit of email from the email address I put up over there ---> 

It's always so much fun to read, and you guys have all sorts of questions! I'm thinking of starting a weekly "Ask The Gori Wife" post, but I don't know if you all have enough questions for me? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? 

So, if you DO have a question for me, send it to me at thegoriwife@gmail.com and we'll see what happens! (It has to be a question I can post up here, though. I mean, you can ask other questions if you want, but I'm looking for interesting things I can put up here in particular. And it can't be anything too big to tackle in a few paragraphs. Nothing like "how do you deal with being married to a Pakistani" because Jeez, people! That's what this WHOLE THING is about!)

Do His Parents Know?

I just saw this cool video that this blogger posted (warning: the video is about very geeky computer science stuff.) You don't actually have to watch it, but in the last few seconds, the speaker points out her student with a very desi name, and says that he deserves a lot of applause because while working on the project, he hasn't slept much and his girlfriend wasn't very happy with him. 

My first though was "Uh Oh! Wonder if that guy's parents know about the girlfriend!" 

Digging My Feet In

I know it's generally a love-fest around here, what with me gushing about how great my in-laws are, but it's not always sunshine & roses. Granted, it almost always IS, but I can remember one particular difficult we had in the very beginning: my name.

They wanted me to change my name. Converts change their names! M's grandmother had even picked one out for me! (Presumptuous, much?) I didn't even know any discussion of this was going on until a day or two before our wedding, when M mentioned the heated discussions he was having back at the place his parents were staying. Apparently, they'd been inquiring about my "new name" since shortly after seeing my picture for the first time.

First of all, no. I was not going to, did not, and will change my name. It's not required, not everyone does it, and I like my name just fine, thanks! Also, my parents gave me that name after a lot of thought and with a lot of love. And in the process of converting to Islam, I felt I'd been called to the religion - and my name was fine then, right? God was able to find me back then, what's wrong with my name now? I was totally against it (for me - to each his or her own!)

Turns out this was the thing M's parents had decided to take up as their cause. "What will we call her?" they asked. "Beti!" M replied (meaning daughter.) "How will we explain?" they cried "Don't" said M. "Your cousin's wife changed her name!" they asserted. (Um, yeah - no one calls her that - not even HIM, and anyway that was her decision, it doesn't have to be mine.)

Eventually, after meeting stubborn refusal after stubborn refusal, they let it go. Thankfully, and in part because my in-laws really ARE great, they never asked me about it to my face, and they never went crying to other people about their terrible fate/son/new daughter-in-law. 

UNfortunately, that wasn't the last of it. On my first trip to Pakistan, a year later, it was always the first question out of people's mouths after meeting me. 

Them, to me: "Nice to meet you."  Looks at ML "What's her name?"

M: "(Redacted)"

Them: "Hm. And her Muslim name?"

M: She only has one name.

Them (to M): You didn't change it?

Blargh! First, why the heck do you care, anyway? And what's a "Muslim" name? You mean Arabic or Urdu name. And you read that right folks, they were asking M if HE had changed my name, as if he could, or should, or whatever. Also, it doesn't always end there, and they go on and on and ON, even trying to convince me/us that it really is required that I change my name. Or giving suggestions. My head explodes if I think about that too much. 

One of the worst things is that these conversations always happen in front of my in-laws; just a little salt in their old wounds. Like, SEE! We told! They're gracious, though, and have begun to get annoyed at it too, even joining in my complaints about these inquiries sometimes.

What do these people care, anyway?

Joru Ka Ghulam

The idea of "women's work" is still alive and well in Pakistan and the minds of many diasporic Pakistanis. A man who "helps" his wife with household tasks like sweeping or cooking will often get called the dreaded Joru Ka Ghulam - the slave of the wife. 

M is very much a Joru Ka Ghulam. He cooks, he cleans. He actually cleans more than I do! These days he's been doing all the laundry and a majority of the kitchen cleaning, too. (School has been really hectic since it's my last year!) He's even worse that your regular Joru Ka Ghulam because of his radical views. He doesn't even like to say or hear that he's "helping" with these tasks because he says that implies that cooking/cleaning/etc. are MINE to begin with, and if he does these tasks he's merely "helping" with MY work. He says that everyone has household duties, and he's right!

Another thing that really upsets him is when people deride him for spending time with our baby. He changes diapers and he's in charge of bed & bath time. He sometimes does more baby-related stuff than I do (again: school.) But god help you if you say that he's "babysitting" for the night. He really gets upset about this one! He'll tell you that this is HIS SON, how can he "babysit" his own son? And he'll also tell you that he LOVES to do ANYthing his son needs, and to spend time with him, and that yes, he even loves to change diapers.

Luckily, I don't think M often gets told to his face that he's a Joru Ka Ghulam, but I've heard it after he leaves a room because people assume I don't understand when they speak in Urdu. It's not nice and it's often the women who say it. I don't understand - why wouldn't they want their own husbands to do these things, too? Why would they deride the one guy in the room who's actually participating in the family responsibilities rather than talking about cricket and politics?

And the very idea that he's the slave of me is preposterous. He's kind and caring and loving and helpful because it's a part of him and because he thinks these things are required of him by his religion. And don't make him quote religious sayings to demonstrate it, because he's got those memorized!

A Lifetime Of Travel

I was thinking today, and I thought of a good analogy for intercultural marriage. (I was mulling this Sepia Mutiny post around in my head, which a commenter was kind enough to draw my attention to.) It's like you're traveling. You're in a near-constant state of strangeness. You eat different foods, you don't always understand the language, sometimes you go to weird places...

And it's both parties to the marriage, too. Both of you are learning news things every day about your significant other and their culture. I also thought this analogy lended itself well to the idea that some people would totally dig the idea of spending their entire lives - each and every day - traveling, while some people would not at all want to do that. To each his or her own, right?!

Oh Yeah! Milk!

I forgot to write in my "What to Bring" post about what we did for formula/milk. Milk was one of my BIGGEST stresses before AND during the whole trip, I'm surprised I forgot about it!

I was really conflicted about what to do because his pediatrician recommended formula until 12 months, and then cow's milk afterwards. We were leaving when the baby was 14 months old, and staying for four weeks. And in Pakistan, M's family drinks water buffalo milk, so I wasn't sure what to do. I was even nervous about this well before he turned 12 months...

One option would have been to just continue with the formula throughout the trip as well, bringing as much as we'd need with us in powdered form. Another option would be to use Pakistani powdered formula, or try to track down some sort of cows milk in Pakistan.

At the 12 month checkup at the baby's pediatrician office, we saw a new doctor (it's a big office with a number of different pediatricians; you can request a specific doctor, or if you need a more immediate appointment you can go to whoever is available that day.) 

The new doctor was a Pakistani woman, and she had two children who she had taken to Pakistan. She assured me that cows milk would be readily and inexpensively available. It didn't mean anything to me at the time, but she kept talking about being able to find "milk packs." She said her son made the transition to cows milk while they were in Pakistan, and he had that kind of milk and it was fine.

So, reassured that I would be able to find cows milk while in Pakistan and it would be easily tolerated by the baby, we stopped using formula when he turned 1. Two months later, we embarked on our trip. I was still nervous about what we were going to do for milk, and while we were in transit I saw some Nido in the duty free shops. Nido is some sort of powdered milk. Still not sure what the milk situation would be like in Pakistan, I bought the big bag of Nido and when we got to Pakistan, we started mixing him bottles of that.

He hated it. I can only assume it was the taste he didn't like. It took a few days to notice, but he drank less and less of it, until a week into our trip we was drinking less than an ounce at a time, sometimes refusing it all together. At first I thought perhaps he just was sick, or his stomach was adjusting to Pakistani food. Whenever he's sick he always eats less than usual. A few days later, though, and I was starting to get worried. One day he drank less than 8 ounces TOTAL all day & night, and his diapers weren't heavy enough. I gave him water and juice so he wouldn't dehydrate, and eventually I figured out that for whatever reason, he just wouldn't drink the Nido. (Also, cleaning bottles was a nightmare, I don't know what's in that Nido, but it gunks up a bottle pretty grossly!)

I had found out about the "milk packs" our doctor had been talking about within a few days; She was talking about Nestle's Milk Pak which is some kind of milk in a box that's not refrigerated. In the beginning, I was reluctant to give him that. The not-refigerated thing made me nervous, and I hadn't connected the he-hates-Nido dots yet. I was nervous about anything, really - a lot of people do get travel sick when visiting Pakistan, and I just was so nervous about travel sickness in a little baby, y'know? I mean, I know someone who lost 15 pounds the first time they went, and my baby barely weighed 20!

Eventually when he just stopped drinking all together, I realized that Nido was the problem and switched to the Milk Pak, and the baby drank a full bottle the first time. He must have been so thirsty! We gave him the Milk Pak the whole rest of the time we were there and he never had any problem with it. 

I'd probably still be just a worried if we took another baby. There's just no way of knowing if the baby didn't get sick because the milk is actually good and good for you, or if we were just lucky. I read somewhere that "Pakistan does not have laws to regulate the marketing of infant foods" (Link) And I've heard those news stories about terrible things in powdered formulas and milk substitutes. If we go again with another baby, I'd try to make sure I was breastfeeding or bring enough powdered formula for the whole trip, just so I definitely know what's going into the baby's system. No reason not to be extra careful. If I found myself without either, I'd go the Milk Pak route again because that's what worked for us last time. (Because we really didn't have any problem with the Nestle Milk Pak and we used it for more than 2 weeks.)

International Travel With Baby - What To Bring?

When we arrived in Karachi, we went straight to M's family's house. Because we were three people and five bags, we had to take a couple of cars, but luckily we'd been met at the airport by a lot of different family members, so we just shoved a suitcase in each of their cars and were able to ride home together. 

M's mom was the only one who had ever met the baby. She had been in America when he was born and stayed for the first seven weeks of his life. She held him in her lap on the drive home and he was so tired from all the travel and interrupted sleep, that he just laid there quietly and looked at all the interesting things outside the window.

Which brings us to our first craziness of taking a baby to Pakistan - no car seats. My son had never in his life been in a moving automobile without being fully, properly strapped into a car seat. I tried my best before leaving to figure out some sort of solution to this. We couldn't take a car seat with us because he was traveling on our lap. I could not find any car seat for sale on any website that would ship to Pakistan, nor could I find any Pakistani company selling car seats. In facts, while we were there both times, I NEVER once saw a car seat for sale OR IN USE. 

Another problem with the idea of a car seat is that not all cars in Pakistan even have seat belts. M's family's old car - a Volkswagen bug that they had all M's life until just recently - didn't have any seatbelts at all. Their new car only has seatbelts in the front seats, and none in the backseat. But all the information about car seats says NOT to put a car seat in the front seat. Some stuff I read online talked about people taking a car seat, but then resting it in the footwell in the backseat behind the driver. But who knows if this kind of thing is safer or ever MORE dangerous? I can imagine that footwell completely crumpling in an accident, and god forbid if there were an infant seat sideways there, because that's just the kind of impact the seat was designed to withstand. 

The only solution I ever figured out was that we could pay for an extra piece of luggage to take our car seat with us, and then attach it somehow to the back seat using some kind of tie-downs. If it couldn't be secured to the backseat, we'd make sure there were no airbags in the car (unlikely what with the missing seatbelts and all) and secure it to the front seat. 

This created a lot of problems. Everyone was against us, and ridiculed us and told us it was useless. That it would not be needed; driving in Pakistan was different, there were no real accidents like you see in America; that lots of people pile into the car and devoting the entire front seat to a baby when two full size adults could share it was foolish; that it would make our car a magnet for thieves. I wish I could say I didn't let all their protests bother me and that I was able to stick to my convictions...

A recurring theme of problems we faced was the lack of baby products. We'd been told that we didn't need to bring ANY food or diapers, as everything was available in Pakistan. That was not the case for us. The baby was eating exclusively jarred food, mostly from this line which has all kinds of variety of dishes; fruits, veggies, grains, casseroles and SOUPS, even! I was expecting that there would at least be a good variety of Gerber stuff - but all we could ever find even in the big American- and European-style supermarkets was a few differ jars of some Heinz baby food. No casseroles, no veggies at all, no grains. I could only find a few fruits, mostly in "pudding" combinations like Mango pudding, and dessert-y things like vanilla custard and stuff like that. 

We had serious issues finding food for the baby to eat. I took a very hard line stance that he was not allowed to eat ANY uncooked fruits and vegetables, with tiny exceptions only for VERY thick skinned fruits like oranges and bananas that whose outsides were washed with soap before peeling and feeding. (That and only bottled water and oft-washed hands = a baby who never got travel-sick, thank God!)

Very quickly, my small reserves of travel jars of food ran out, and I didn't want the remaining three weeks of the trip to be a mango pudding and vanilla custard only diet, so I started making food for him. I boiled rice until it was almost disintegrated and then added diced bananas and other fruits and cooked for awhile until it was all mushy and bacteria free. 

(Although I want to make clear that I don't think that food in Pakistan is disease-ridden; I just personally no-science-to-back-it-up think that people's digestive systems adapt to their environment. I always stay away from fruits & vegetables unless they're cooked, and I always drink bottled water from a reliable source where I open the cap myself. An incriminating example: M and I often leave food out overnight because we forget to put it in the fridge, and then we just cook it again the next day and eat it anyway. Maybe this would cause other people some digestive issues, but because we do it pretty often, we're just used to it. And we've been lucky, too, not to have cultivated anything major in our neglected leftovers overnight.)

Anyway, we made that rice pudding-ish thing for breakfast in bulk and he ate it most mornings. Other times I was able to spoon-feed him some imported breakfast cereals, but only when I found them in those big-box stores and the boxes looked like they were definitely from somewhere more American-baby-stomach friendly like Europe. Toward the end of the trip I also found some Gerber rice cereal. 

For dinners, I usually made vegetable bhaji (mixed vegetable curry and daal (lentils) or just cut up whatever well-cooked dinner we were eating. The baby was really interested in finger foods then, and he'd anything in chunk form basically. We've always exposed him to fairly spicy foods, so the spice level wasn't a problem for him, either. (Besides, most people seem to lower the heat level when they're cooking for me anyway, even though I tell them time and again that I can take the heat!)

If I had to do it again, though, I think I'd just take enough food for the whole trip. Seriously - assuming I had an under 18-month or maybr 2-year old who's fairly inflexible in what they eat, I'd just take enough jars or powdered rice cereal for the whole trip. If I couldn't fit enough of everything, I'd definitely pack enough fruits & veggies for the entire trip so that the kid gets as many servings of those as he would have at home. Stave off the rickets, y'know...

Diapers were another thing that everyone said would be available the same as in America, and this was less of a problem, but there still was a bit of difference. Pampers were available in lots of places, even some of the smaller, local stores, but they were expensive! Even more expensive that in America, sometimes. Also, there have been SO MANY innovations in diapers. You would not believe what these things are capable of these day! The Pampers we found were good and had all the basics, but some of the better features were still missing (stretchy tabs, repostionable velcro-y fasteners rather than one-use tape-y ones, the softness of the material, etc.) BUT - when we were stuck in the house for 4 days, my father-in-law eventually had to venture out to get more diapers (there were two toddlers at the home at that time) and he couldn't go very far, so we were stuff with a Pakistani brand of disposable diaper. It was terrible. It was like a 1980s diaper that actually smelled BAD! So keep some reserves of the good kind of diapers.

Baby wipes were available, too, but they were a lot less nice than what you can buy in America. Seriously, have you smelled these Pampers Swipe & Go wipes? I'd wear that scent as a PERFUME! 

And speaking about how the baby smells; our kid got DIRTY while we were there. Some homes in Pakistan and just like western homes, with interior kitchens and stairwells and full bathrooms - M's house is not like that. The kitchen is still detached from the house and there is not a full bathroom, just a small showerhead and a bucket for bathing. The dining table is outdoors, many of the rooms are open to the outdoors, and they live in a part of the city that's very dusty & dirty. Even though a maid comes every day to sweep, the bottoms of your feet will always be dirty if you walk barefoot. The kid needed a lot of baths! And baby soap & lotion was also hard to find (we'd forgotten the no-tears baby soap!) We borrowed some of his cousin's soap until we were able to track down some from another family member. No idea where they'd gotten it or if it's available widely.

As for sleeping, M's house is small, and our entire family was given a 8x6 room called Chota Kamra (or, the small room) to sleep in as a family. Believe me, this was a lot! Everyone else was sleeping in various combinations in the 2 common rooms! Our son, however, has his own bedroom at home and sleeps alone in a dark room in a crib. We needed a crib! Same thing with the car seat; no way to take a crib with us unless we wanted to pay almost $100 for an extra piece of luggage, no idea if a pack n' play was going to be available to buy for a reasonable price. Eventually, we found a close family friend who had a pack n' play whose kid "wouldn't sleep in it at all" and they lent it to us for the full month. We actually travel a lot and after returning from out trip I found two very lightweight travel crib options, so I'd probably go that route if you have a little bit of money to plink down, if you travel a lot, and if your kid is particularly attached to sleeping in a crib.

So to recap; bring some fruits & veggies (dehydrated, jarred, greens powder; whatever) and bring some wipes if you are partial to a nice-smelling, thicker baby wipe. Bring things like baby wash and lotion if you have a specific brand. Find a friend or family member with a travel crib - someone's bound to have one.

Travel to a 3rd World Country With a Baby - Part 1

Do you plan to travel to Pakistan, India or the like? Do you have a small child? Are you crazy? If the answer to any of those questions is yes, then Please! Join me! On the wonderful oddessy that is schlepping your children to a third world country.

Part One - Baby GOES to Pakistan!

First: the tickets. If you're American, you might be used to flying with your under-2-year-old toddler on your lap for FREE! Not so with an international flight. Even if you plan to hold onto your precious child in you own lap (for the entire 16 or more hours in flight!!) you still have to pay. For us, the fee was 20% of the adult fare. That's right - 20% for them to do nothing and for you to be miserable for many many hours. Oh, except with the infant airfare you also get one more tiny 20-pound luggage allowance, presumably for the baby's things, but we all know you're just going to pack more candy bars and shampoo bottles. 

So you've got your ticket (i.e. the airline just made 20% for selling your lap.) Now you must actually take your kid to the airport. And get on an airplane. That's ultimate destination is Pakistan. And it will take your 24 hours to get there. I recommend putting the baby in pajamas. 

Remember that since you're traveling with a kid, you can pack liquids in excess of the 3oz. rules. I packed so much food you can't even imagine. Like, 8 jars of baby food and 4 of pre-mixed formula, plus some cut-up fruit and raisins and even some yogurt. I didn't know what would be available and I could just imagine being stuck in a foreign airport with no baby food. Going through the security line, the TSA agent took one look at my two huge bags of liquids and said suspiciously, "Where is your destination?" and when I said "Karachi, Pakistan," he was like "Oh, okay then" and didn't bat another eye at me contravening the liquid guidelines so egregiously. 

Also, get a porter. It's so worth the $10-$15 not to try to manage all the luggage and baby and stroller and diaper bag between the two of you (assuming it's a husband-wife traveling alone with their child(ren)) and if you think about what you paid for those tickets, really, what's $10-15 more? Also, stop overpacking your bags. There are weight limits and the airlines are going to enforce them. They'll either charge you more or they'll force you to take out the extra things and carry them with you in shopping bags. (Seriously, I saw a Virgin Atlantic check-in counter lady force some woman to take out two pairs of jeans and a sweater and give her a plastic shopping bag - that poor woman had to hand-carry all that crap with her through the American security & airport, on the plane, through Heathrow and who knows where else! Hassle!)

So I strictly enforce the weight limits as we're packing out bags. M always wants to fudge it a little. "What's two more pounds in each bag?" he asks, "everyone does it." Maybe they do, and maybe the airlines let 2 pounds slide, but there's already enough stress in traveling, I don't need any more, thanks. And what does it really matter if you take 15 Almond Joys or only 10?

We've flown both 3- and 2-leg flights to Karachi. The first was America to London, then Dubai, then Karachi; (about 8 hours, 8 hours, and 2 hours, respectively) and the second was America straight to Dubai, then to Karachi (14 hours, then 3 hours). Clearly with those long flights, you're going to have to feed your kid. If you breastfeed, remember that there are laws in almost every state that say you can do so even if you expose yourself. (Although you should try to avoid that, make sure you know your rights if some flight attendant suggests that your should stop or tries to throw you off the plane.) (<== Just print out & bring that article with you, then shove it in the face of any airline employee who gives you trouble.)

If you're bottle feeding, the flight attendants can get you water or milk, or even heat up bottles for you (they do it by floating the bottle in very hot water from the coffee maker - it works REALLY fast, so check it every 10-20 seconds or so.) Large international airlines even have diapers & baby food onboard they can give you! We got a couple of jars of Heinz baby food - some meat & pasta dish, a beef stew-ish thing, and fruits and puddings. You can even order a "baby meal" for your little 20% wallet-drainer. Ask your travel agent about it, or ask the crew as you're boarding. 

About that crew though: not always very helpful. You might have to ask several crew members several times for certain things (changing seats, baby food, warming bottles.) Mommy and baby needs just don't seem to be their top priority all the time...)

There's also the aircraft baby bassinet. I honestly never even noticed this thing on airplanes before I had kids of my own. On the bulkhead rows, there are these flip-down tables. If it's not flipped down it just looks like some paneling on the wall, but a flight attendant comes over after you're in the air and flips it down and straps a tiny bassinet onto it. The bassinet is pretty tightly attached, and on the plane we were on (Emirates) the flight attendant lined it with blankets and a pillow, and the bassinet had a little zippered cover, so after takeoff we could just get him to sleep in that thing, zip him in, and ideally you also be able to sleep without a kid on your lap. 

Unfortunately for us our 14 month old son didn't really fit in it anymore. We tried folding him up into it, laying him down sideways and tucking his legs up a little bit, but he wasn't able to move around much and he usually moves around a bit while he sleeps, so he didn't sleep for more than 1-2 hour stretches and need some cuddling & comfort in between. On the return flight, we had a bit or turbulence less than an hour after takeoff and they make us take him out of the bassinet and flip up the table because it's like the "seat back and tray tables in the upright position" things. The turbulence lasted for several hours, so we barely got our 20% worth. 

During the layovers, we just tried to tire him out - airports are pretty interesting places and he was just starting to walk unassisted, so that meant a lot of exploration. A what a sight he was - a cute kid in alligator pajamas can draw a crowd in Qatar, let me tell you! 

For the second leg of the flight, our kid got pretty tired of being on an airplane. We exhausted all of my special toys & treasures and he was even tired of watching cartoons on the in-flight TV. Walking around the plane was a nice diversion, and so was checking out the plane's bathroom. I let him play in the for 15 minutes and then slathered him in anti-bacterial sanitizer. Anything to distract him by that point. The last thing I thought of turned out to be one of my greatest traveling-with-kids tips - the air-sickness bag! It's fantastic. I give my son all sorts of little toys to play with on the plane, one by one as he tired of them. When he's finally tired of ALL of them, I give him the air sickness bag and he has fun putting all the little toys IN and then OUT of the bag, closing it, opening it, shaking it; seriously folks, this occupies him for a half an hour sometimes. I have to force myself not to grab the air sickness bag when he first starts clamoring for my attention, it's that good - save it for when you really need it! I use this on every flight we take now.

We did make one huge mistake in that we didn't take a stroller. We'd just recently purchased a baby backpack, and I don't know WHAT we were THINKing, but somehow we thought that would be a better option to travel with. Believe me - when you're stuck in an airport for 6 hours, you need somewhere to sit the baby down that is NOT YOUR OWN SHOULDERS. Also, a stroller can act as a highchair and even entertainment if you let them push it around themselves. TAKE the stroller!

After we landed, I wanted to change the baby into something more fitting for a "First Grandson's First Visit" - alligator pajamas just don't do it, y'know? But apparently, there is no such thing as a changing table in Pakistani public restrooms, so I ended up just changing him on the floor of the airport in a corner. 

Also: immigration. M was, at that time, not even a green card holder so we had to go through two different immigration lines. (hello pain in the butt baby backpack - where the heck is my stroller?!?) My line finished quicker than his, so I asked the lady at the immigration counter if I could go stand with my husband and she said yes. I asked BEFORE I'd left the counter; another time I walked away and then tried to walk back and a security guard stopped me from re-entering. 

We did a lot of talking with our son about the trip beforehand, too, and that seemed to help. We told him about what we were doing and why, what it would be like in the plane, how a lot of people would be at the airport when we arrived and they'd all be so happy to see him that they would want to hug him and pinch his cheeks. Really, even a 14 month old can understand more than you know - this preparation really did seem to help a lot with the transition and all the unfamiliar situations. 

As for adjustment and jetlag, I think kids adjust MUCH more easily that we adults do. Our son only had one day & night of poor sleeping/eating and then he was on Pakistan time just fine. It gets harder with age and each time I go, but so far I think the trick is to just live your life as if you're on Pakistan time the minute you start traveling. If you sleep as much as you can in the plane, and then arrive at your destination at 5am, just stay awake as much as you can and nap for only an hour or two if you need to; that way, by nightfall you'll sleep really well and be rested and adjusted and ready for the next day.

Next up: Baby IN Pakistan!

On Traveling To Pakistan (Or India, or Nepal, or Sri Lanka, or....)

Having just completed a trip wherein I heaved my child through five different airports, I am reminded of what traveling to Pakistan was like. I want to write about the nuts & bolts of international travel to a third world country (developing nation? emerging? what are we calling it these days?) with a toddler. One 14 month old toddler, specifically, because that is what I had at the time.

But first, many people were concerned about me traveling to Pakistan with my kid. Or even before that, when I was going to go for the first time my family was all up in arms about it. We went in December 2005 & 2007. In 2007, there were supposed to be elections held in Pakistan a few months after we went. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court had been sacked recently, and there was some political unrest in parts of Pakistan. My parents & grandparents especially did not want me to go.

They hadn't wanted me to go the first time in December 2005, either. Political unrest again, but no baby to throw into the mix. It's not that I don't understand their worry; Pakistan can sound like a scary, dangerous place if you watch Fox News. Heck, even if you watch the real news! And I know that in Pakistan there is real danger sometimes. But not all the time. And you can try to stay OUT of danger. And it's not like this is a college student's backpacking trek. This isn't frivolous on-a-whim travel - It's my life.

This is my life. I am married to a Pakistani and we both make compromises to ensure that we both get enough of what we need in our marriage. For us, right now in our life and in the world as it is now, that means that we travel to Pakistan regularly. Ideally we'd go there once a year. M would like his kids to spend large chunks of their summer vacations in the home he grew up on, feasting on mangos and spending lazy days chasing cousins around the alleys where he learned to play cricket and catch fish in the "pond" down the street. (read: dirty sewer water) I hope most of our travel will occur during the winter vacations, where we can spend a lovely three weeks (not months) in nice weather (rather than 120 degree heat.)

Either way, these kids are going to Pakistan.  Don't get me wrong, I'd never want my children to be in danger. But we're not attending political rallies just south of the Afghan border, y'know? We're going to be spending time in the homes of M's family in Karachi. 

In fact, when we were there in 2007, Bhutto was assassinated and there were riots in the street. Cars were burned, factories were destroyed. We were out shopping that day and had just arrived home when we heard. We just locked the doors and stayed home. I was terrified because M's house is just on the line that divides where two different ethnic groups live - M's and the ones who supported Bhutto. I was terrified that if any tension erupted between those groups, we'd be right in the middle of it. Because in America, people break into houses to kill you sometimes. Locks on the doors aren't always enough. There's danger everywhere. But in Pakistan, no one really had any idea what I was so scared about, no one knew about home invasion. It's just different - in Pakistan angry people take to the streets and burn tires.

I mean seriously, folks! People go to Greece every day right? How lovely does a tour of Greece sound, right? And then a few months ago, all of a sudden there's this outbreak of riots and violence. And the L.A. riots, right here in America! Bridges collapse - trains derail! Cars crash! Danger is all around us! In America, in Pakistan. We take as many precautions as possible and we stay as safe as we can. We live a half-American, half-Pakistani life. That means time in both places.

And then there's the fact that almost ALL of M's family still lives in Pakistan. He's got 2 or 3 cousins and a sister here in America, but everyone else is back in Pakistan. How can you tell the ones you love that you and your family won't visit the country - where you lived until you were 25 - because it's not safe for people. They're people too and they have to live there! 

So I went the first time, even though everyone was scared and basically begged me to postpone the trip. I came back unscathed. I sent out emails almost every day with pictures and a description of what we'd done and where we'd gone that day. My family and friends seemed to like those a lot, and it satisfied my mother that I was still alive. By the time the 2nd trip (with toddler) was looming near, I thought things were settled. I was actually pretty surprised when my family once again raised concerns that I should go. 

 To keep my parents from worrying too much, I wrote and sent pictures every day while I was gone. After Bhutto was assassinated, I kind of lied about the situation, though. Well, I didn't even know that much about the aftermath, I really just lied about our proximity to it. I said it was going on in "other parts of the city" when I really meant "other parts of the city but also other parts of the same street we live on." 

I dreaded visiting my family after that because I thought they'd say "I told you so." As if they'd predicted that Bhutto would be assassinated. Luckily it wasn't as bad as I expected, but I won't be excited to have to tell them about our next trip to Pakistan. Not that we're really planning it yet, but M's youngest brother is engaged and he's recently said he'd like for the wedding to be next summer. I can't even begin to THINK about telling this to my mother yet.

Same?

Hey, does anyone know what same is? It's like a bean, kind of like a sugar snap pea, with peas inside too; but it looks slightly different. M says it's not the same as a sugar snap pea, but I haven't been able to find a translation. My mother-in-law makes a pickle out of it, and also makes a beef & same dish. 

Sweetheart Mian

I call my husband Mian - that's where the M comes from. It means "husband" but in a sweet way, kind of like "sweetheart." Our son call him "Abbu" which means Dad. He's only two, though, so he's just starting to talk. Sometimes he forgets and calls him Mian, too, because he hears me do it. It's the cutest thing! It's the equivalent of a little boy walking around after his father saying "Hey Sweetheart!"

The Big Day

Our wedding day started early on a Saturday. M and his entourage of his parents and all his school friends got ready for the American wedding and started driving the two hour long trip to get to the wedding location. The ceremony was to start at 11 am. I hadn't been able to sleep much the night before, but I was up early too and went to the location of the ceremony - my grandparent's house. Getting into my dress and having a friend do my makeup didn't take very long, and afterwards I spent some time visiting with my family. My mom cried a little. My grandmother gave me her mother's blue handkerchief.

The wedding ceremony was preformed in my grandparent's backyard, where they have a secret garden. I was a little kid when some of those trees were planted to section off a part of the backyard, and as it has grown into a more and more secret, otherworldly place, it's become one of my favorite places in the world. 

After the ceremony, we went inside the house for a nice brunch. We only had about 40 guests and we served vegetarian quiches, fruit, croissants, and other brunch-y things. People mingled and ate for awhile, and then it was time to cut the cake. CakeS, actually, because we had two wedding cakes. 

There was more eating and mingling. Our evening wedding ceremony was planned for 6pm, and we still had the 2-hour drive and an outfit change ahead of us, so we ended up leaving while some people were still eating cake! Traditionally, the bride and groom leave the wedding reception in a car tied with coke cans or other noisemakers and head for the honeymoon, but we left like some kind of reverse Pakistani baraat; with me and M and his parents and another friend stuffed into a rented Impala.

We went to the apartment M and his parents were staying at and got dressed. My mother-in-law, who'd I'd spent less than 4 hours with until that time, helped zip me up and put the teeka in my hair. A friend of M's was supposed to come over and do some mehendi for me, but in all the day's rush it didn't happen. (I had postponed having mehendi done earlier because I didn't want to have mehendi hands in my white-dress American wedding photos.) M and his mother ended up doing a little mehendi for me, but it was still wet even when we got to the location of the Pakistani wedding ceremony.

holding out my hands in front of me because they're still wet

The nikah ceremony was held right after the evening Maghrib prayer in the local mosque. M had tried to talk to the imam, or religious leader of the mosque, and explain that I was a convert and all my white Christian family would be in attendance. It didn't go as well as I'd planned. I'd hoped that the imam would be able to say something to bridge the cultural gap and make my family feel comfortable in the mosque, but he didn't. Instead he talked about how "We love Jesus and Mary too" and his accent was really thick. He almost insisted that he act as my wali (bride's confidant), even though I'd found my own. He also sat on the floor after the prayer and preformed the whole contract-signing while surrounded entirely by M and his friends and family, not even inviting my father - or hey! the bride??!! - to come over. Eventually M brought the paper over for me and my father to sign, and the imam had spelled my father's name wrong. So much for a beautiful nikah document to cherish over the years... (sorry, rant over.)

After the official wedding ceremony was over, M's family handed out those little packets of sweets (I can't remember the name and M's away on business, so you'll have to wait until I can edit this out later!) and people mingled a little more. We had about the same number of guests as the morning ceremony, but not all the same people. Not everyone had been able to dedicate and entire day for our wedding and some people were only able to attend one of the ceremonies. The evening ceremony didn't last very long because of the fact that no one really tried to make my half of the guests feel very comfortable in the mosque, and also because there was no planned reception afterwards. (The Valima, or groom's reception, was to be held the next day.) The whole thing look less than an hour and then I went back to the apartment with the Pakistanis where we did a little sweets-forcefeeding and shoe-stealing. Everyone feds the newlyweds spoons of sweet desserts for sweet beginning to our life, and the groom's friends and family stole his shoes and extort money for their return so that the groom could leave with his new bride.)

Eventually, though, after a VERY long day (and almost $100 lighter, but with his shoes) M and I were able to take our first steps together as husband and wife as we left for the honeymoon hotel. (Which we stayed at for about 12 hours before heading back to pick up his parents and get ready for the Valima!)

Wedding Traditions

A Pakistani wedding is a week's worth of celebrations. Different ethnic groups celebrate different things, and planning an intercultural wedding that celebrates two different ideas of what a wedding should look like is no small task. This week, I'll be exploring our wedding.

I was already planning my wedding when I was a kid. My friend and I once looked through bridal magazines and made a collage of what our ideal wedding would look like. I was only 16 at the time, but surprisingly few things had changed between then and when M and I were engaged. Of course I wanted a classic white dress, and I wanted to be married in my grandparent's luscious green "Secret Garden." 

It seems that often an intercultural marriage is steeped in compromise, so of course a wedding is no different. Some parts of an American wedding were incompatible with our Pakistani-American wedding. For us, that meant no dancing and no "You may kiss the bride." Others I know who married Pakistanis did not forgo these traditions, but M was not comfortable dancing with me while his parents watched, nor did he want to kiss me in front of them. This was something I was willing to accommodate, although my mother and I had a few rounds of discussions before we got on the same page; she was concerned that I was compromising too much, as a Mother is want to do.

His graduation was on the 15th, and his parents were arriving on the 10th. We decided on the 13th for our wedding. We were going to have a traditional white-dress American wedding in the morning and a red-dress Pakistani "Nikah" in the evening. Even though this would mean a lot of driving and commotion in one day, it was really important to me that both of our weddings were on the same day. I didn't want to have two different wedding anniversaries.

Only one of the weddings would "count" though, because at one of them, the officiant would actually fill out the marriage certificate paperwork. So the plan was that we would have a morning American wedding that was totally fake, and then a small reception with nice brunch food. (Brunch food is easy to accommodate a no-meat, no-pork menu; and no need to explain the no-dancing rule.) Then, we'd have a little time to prepare for the evening and we'd have a Nikah in a mosque in the evening after the Maghrib evening prayer. The only problem was that the two wedding locations were two hours away from each other. M had to leave his house at 7am to make it to our 10am nuptials, and we barely had time to dress before for Mosque ceremony. We had a Valima in an Indian restaurant the next evening.

Luckily, everything went off without too much of a hitch. This week, I'll start cutting our heads out of pictures and I'll try to write posts for all the various wedding events. I'll try my best to explain the accompanying wedding traditions for each culture. Something to look forward to, then!

The Trouble With Thank You

In the early days, M and I had a real problem with "Thank You." 

I was raised to say Thank You for everything. For big and little things, even small things within our own home - everything deserved a Thank You. Even my parents would say Thank You to their children if we fetched something for them. Some families do or don't do certain things in certain ways - in my family, Thank You was important. 

So of course, in the early days when M was taking me out to dinners, buying me coffees, holding doors open for me and paying me lots of compliments, there were a lot of Thank Yous coming out of my mouth. M had a problem with this. He once told me not to say Thank You. 

"Don't say that!" he said, with a look of distaste. 

"Say what?" I said, wondering what could have just come out of my mouth to cause such upset. 

"Thank You," he said, "don't say that to me again." 

He explained that if I said Thank You, it would cheapen his efforts - we were too close for Thank Yous. He did these things because he wanted to, not because he expected any Thanks. 

I didn't understand that. How could my being Thankful for his kindness cheapen any of the things he did for me? I didn't say Thank You because I was required to - and in my family, everyone said Thank You no matter how close - even parents and children. Thank You was a GOOD thing to say. 

In the end it's just one of those intercultural morsels of difference. I've heard this from lots of desis and those in intercultural relationships with desis. Apparently many people have had this trouble with Thank You and I've heard similar tales from at least 6 other intercultural couples. Sometimes it's similar to our situation, with the desi party uncomfortable with all the Thank Yous, and sometimes it's the non-desi party upset with the lack of Thank Yous. 

As far as I can tell, it's just not a practice to say Thank You in many iterations of desi culture, even when someone sincerely appreciates your efforts. Hospitality is such a important part of desi culture that good hosts do not want Thank Yous - it is their honor and duty to do nice things for guests, friends and family, and Thank You is not a part of it. And as a result, people who grew up in such a culture are just not in the practice of saying Thank You. (Of course, I know plenty of desi people who do say Thank You, different families do things differently.) 

In the end, for us, I could not stop saying Thank You. A lifetime had ingrained in me the importance of vocalizing my genuine appreciation when people do nice things, just as a lifetime had ingrained in M to do such nice things and not hear that vocalization. Eventually I won, and M accepted my Thanks. He even began to say Thank You himself after some time of being inundated by mine. I even found him a little religious reference that said that those who do not Thank PEOPLE do not Thank GOD. And now my house is just as polite in this respect as my childhood home was, with Thank Yous abound. Our son's first word was even Thank You. :) Although it sounded more like "tanku."

Meet My Friend Reema

One of the most fascinating things about Pakistan is that even though it's an "Islamic Republic" and supposedly a very strict, fundamentalist religious state, there are still cross-dressers. Cross-dressers who walk around openly and beg people for money. They're called hijras and they knock on people's doors, go around to local business, and beg on the street collecting money. I first learned about hijras in a Religion & Gender class I took in college, which was fascinating on so many levels. They talked about it as an Indian thing, but as we all know, India and Pakistan share a lot of these cultural tidbits. I can't remember if they're bad luck and people are paying them to keep them away, or if they're good luck and people are paying them to acquire some kind of good luck for themselves. Reema is a beggar that came by the house the first time when I was in Pakistan. She's the first hijra I ever met. Ammi answered the door and then came back into the house to get some money for her, and when I heard there was a hijra at the door, I went out to see for myself. I asked Reema if I could take her picture and she said yes. 

After I left Pakistan, she would come by and ask about me even after I left, asking why her Bhajhi (meaning sister, which she called me) wasn't sending her jeans from Amreeka. My mother-in-law just laughed and said that Bhajhi (me) didn't know her sizes! And she replied that at the least, I should be sending her shampoo and nail polish! When Ammi came to visit us in America, I had this picture framed and had Ammi take it back for Reema. Last year, when I visited Karachi again, she came around begging again and let me take her picture again, too. 

The Auntie Problem

Anyone who is older than you and not related to you is an Auntie. In my case, I encounter Aunties mostly in the mosque, or when wandering the mall or out in a desi restaurant. Occasionally these Aunties will greet me and ask me how I am doing or start up some kind of conversation. Most often they just stare at me and do not approach me. Sometimes, though, I find myself in the company of Aunties anyway. One common way this happens is that M and I will be invited to a dinner party at someone's house, and the guest list will include people of all age. If the dinner party ends up segregated by gender, I end up stuck alone in a room full of Aunties.

Relating to Aunties can be difficult for me. We seemingly have nothing in common. They often are unresponsive to questions I ask about hobbies or recently read books. I often have seen the movies they mention. I've yet to meet an Auntie who was interested in discussing politics with me (though I know there are some), save for one who wanted to talk about whether Obama is a secret Muslim. I'm not the best conversation starter, and most of the Aunties I've encountered don't seem to care about uncomfortable silences. So how does one relate to an Auntie?

First, Aunties are people too. You have to smile. Say Hello or Salaam or Namaste. Ask how they are. Remember that they might be just as nervous about talking to you as you are about talking to them. Try to remember that not everyone is judging you. (I still struggle with this one.) Also, I sometimes think that elder desis feel like it's the responsibility of the younger generation to initiate small talk, so they might be waiting for you to start.

I find the easiest way to relate to these Aunties is just to ask more and more questions about THEM. People love to talk about themselves, right? If an Auntie works, you can ask her about her job and how she likes it. If she has kids, you can ask about them and where they go to college. The BEST results I've gotten have to do with asking where in Pakistan or India she or her family is from. Having traveled a bit in Pakistan myself, this often leads to a lengthy conversation about how I'd been to that city, too. How did I like it? Did I go to this place? Did I get sick? (Hey, I like to talk about myself too. You: We know, we read your drivel every day.) If you haven't traveled much in the Auntie's country of origin, you could ask her about her travels in YOUR country, how she liked them, did she see this place, did she get sick? :)

Also, remember that these Aunties can be a RESOURCE for you! You finally have a captive desi audience that is not your significant other. Now you can finally ask questions about cultural issues, or double-check your significant other's version of things. It was an auntie who first corroborated M's explanation of why he didn't like to say or hear "Thank you." It was also an auntie who first told me about Lahore. M had been too busy telling stories about Karachi. 

So, as always, my advice for how to tackle "The Auntie Problem" as someone coined the term in my comments section, is questions questions questions! Make a list of possible questions anytime you're going to be encountering Aunties and soon you'll see which line of questions work best for you.

I do have one fail-proof way to suddenly get along with every Auntie you'll ever meet. This method will ensure that you always get smiled at, always get greeted and offered a seat, always have something to talk about. Using this method you will more easily make friends and find your place in a foreign community. Are you ready? 

Have a kid. 

Well, I guess you should probably have a CUTE kid. A kid that sings old Hindi songs, helps too. Every Auntie in the house will smile at you, and you will feel like you've finally found your ticket in. They're always something to talk about when you're pandering your own child for social acceptance. "Hey kid! Sing Lata & Mukesh's Kabhi Kabhi Mere Dil Main Khayal Aata Hai again!"

My Conversion Story

I am a muslim. I converted to Islam on October 25, 2003 - the 1st day of Ramadan that year.. I pray five times a day, I fast for a full month during Ramadan, I pay zakat, and God willing, one day soon I will go for Hajj. At lot of you said you wanted to hear about how or why I converted to Islam, and I'm going to be writing about that soon.

I'm not really writing about religion much on this blog and there's a reason for that. I want this blog to be what I WISH had been available to me 6+ years ago when I first met M. Intercultural relationships are such an enigma, and there's just so much to learn and so many questions. Even without a religion difference. Had there been someone out there writing about their own experiences in this then (and there probably were, I just never found them,)  I would have had a place to go where people understood. Where I could see a glimpse into my possible future and avoid the pitfalls and bumps and bruises that come with trying to navigate these kinds of paths alone. 

But I also know that intercultural marriage does not have to include religious conversion. In fact, one of my biggest concerns about a permanent relationship with M were religion. And I felt decidedly different than the converts I met. I know that I was biased.

I remember that M did have one Pakistani acquaintance who had married a white American girl. About a year into M & my relationship, when things were still in the we-can-never-be-together stage, but maybe he and I were starting to feel like we couldn't settle for "No," he contacted his friend. I guess they talked about the possibility of marrying a non-Pakistani, and the friend told his wife to contact me. I received a lovely email from her with a little description of this woman, a few tips about how to wear hijab, and a link to a website about her. The website was mostly about her conversion to Islam. In my mind, all possibility of communication with this woman shut down. That wasn't going to be me - she and I had nothing in common - how could I possibly talk to this woman? 

It's my own stupidity. I was struggling with Islam at that point in my life, and I couldn't see that life for myself, so I didn't pursue what could have been a very valuable resource. I'm sure that had I contacted her, even if I had told her I wasn't a convert and didn't plan on converting, she still would have been willing to talk to me about the intercultural aspects of dating and/or marrying a Pakistani. She even had a child from a previous marriage and had already travelled to Pakistan - how interesting would THAT have been to hear about?!! And maybe if I had talked to her, it could have made my own journey to Islam quicker and less difficult. 

I feel like I need to be the resource that *I* needed back before I dived headfirst into this thing. At that point, any talk about religion would have just closed avenues of dialogue for me. That doesn't mean I WON'T talk about religion here. Like I said, I'm going to be posting my conversion story soon. And if any of you have any specific concerns or questions, I'm happy to discuss anything via email. I'm no scholar, but perhaps I can point you in the right direction. There are plenty of things I'm still looking for answers to myself, though, so maybe I won't be able to answer your questions, but I can try.   

I know some of you may disagree with this policy, or my motivations for it, but I really need to find a balance for this to be the place I needed six years ago and who I am now. For now, this is it.

Meet The Gori Wife - NOW!

A lot of your suggestions to my writer's block indicated that you'd like to know what's up with me NOW! Like who I am and what I do now, as opposed to my past or my intercultural marriage. (Don't worry, I'm going to write about the other stuff you guys asked about too.) 

You GUYYYYSSS! I'm supposed to be anonymous here! I haven't told anyone I know about this blog because I want to be able to write freely here. If I told my parents about it, then how could I freely discuss how they reacted when I told them I was going to travel to Pakistan in the midst of political turmoil? Or what it was really like to be there when Bhutto was assassinated? And if M's family knew about this blog, how could I write about them? Well, I could, but it might not be honest all the time. Plus, who isn't scared about internet privacy stuff, right? As much as I love you all, I don't want any of you showing up on my doorstep. Well, maybe a few of you could come. (*wink*)

So, what can I really tell you without giving away my secret identity? 

You already know I'm a wife and mother. I'm also a student, in the last semester of my graduate education. Those three things take up pretty much all my time. Really, if I'm not at home cooking & cleaning, or trying to spend quality time with my kid, I'm holed up at my desk trying to keep afloat in my studies. The kid's in daycare most days so that I can study & go to class. I want to work in the most boring off all areas - tax. I really love it! It's so interesting! No, really! I'll graduate in May and then I have a big licensing test I have to take in July. Somewhere in there, I'll hopefully start working. 

We live in the suburbs and love it. I always thought I'd want to live in New York City, but I really really love where we ended up. We just bought a house. We're very do-it-yourself fixer-upper people. M is a crazy hobbyist who's built most of our furniture and spends almost all his free time in his workshop. 

Our kid is seriously, heartbreakingly cute. He's almost 2 and a half, and he's a really good, really easy baby and always has been. We think it's because we're amazing parents. M speaks to him exclusively in Urdu. (He's actually working on an Urdu alphabet Powerpoint presentation that he said I can post here when he's done with it.) The kid is picking it up. Some words the kid knows ONLY in Urdu (like bhaitho - sit down - and karay ho jao - stand up, which M says to him in Urdu every night during bath time) and some words he knows in both languages (like car/gaRi, elephant/haathi.) He started talking a little later than other kids, but not very late. Now he's really hitting a language bubble and talking all the time. 

He's such a happy, great kid. He loves music and M has a huge collection of old records and record players, so he and M sing and dance together a lot. M is an amazing father, in part due to some excellent parenting role models he's had and in part to all the research and reading we do on the subject. We do want to have more kids, but not until I'm definitely out of school. I was pregnant with the kid in the first year of my degree program and it has seriously affected my studies. Since I'm graduating soon, hopefully that will happen soon too. 

Other than that, what else is there to know about me NOW? If I had any free time, I'd spend it traveling, reading, looking into home renovation ideas (which I do even though I don't have any free time, actually.) I have a serious addiction to luxury hotels. In fact, the only hotel I've ever been to in Pakistan is the now-destroyed Islamabad Marriott, which was wonderful. 

I'm very happy, I have a great husband and kid. We have a wonderful, wonderful life.

Back.

Hello folks. I've been out braving the snowy Northeast. We attended a friend's Aqeeka over the weekend, so now I've got plenty of desi fodder to write about! I'll also start answering those questions you guy asked on the last post. So many of you asked about The Gori Wife "NOW" - I'm supposed to be anonymous, remember?! How will I foster my mystique if I reveal my true self? Well, I'll try to figure out what tidbits I can tell you without ruining it all. I wouldn't want my family to find me. Seriously - NO ONE in real life except M knows about this site (even though I've been DYING to tell someone about you all!)

All right - stay tuned. More to come soon.