I am a big old aunty and it's getting worse with each passing day. And trust me, I started off at a pretty high threshold. In our South Asian Cultural Shows in college, I played the aunty. There wasn't even a question about it - if there was an old Indian woman in any portion of the show, chances are I played her. My favorite experience was that during my senior year, I got to wear a fake butt in the performance. Quite authentic.
Other data points: I speak with a slight Indian accent. I don't know why. Born and raised in NY (Long Island, to be precise). Forget saying "coffee" like "cau-fee" and "Long Island" like "lawn guyland." I say "Chai" with a little headshake and "What" like "Vot?" And I can slip in and out of this accent like nobody's business. It turns on automatically when I'm around my parents. Not that THEY speak with an Indian accent. My parents sound more American than I ever will. This is, how you say in English? ... ironic?
My fobbishness is starting to become very pronounced. On Sunday, to recuperate after a big night out partying, my friends and I met up at a little Indian restaurant that I love. My head hurt. It was raining outside. I was sleepy. I needed my Chai. The restaurant serves their chai out of a metal thermos. Rock on! I poured myself a styrofoam cup of steaming goodness and sat down. I took my first sip, closed my eyes ... and channeled my mother. It was eerie. I had the exact reaction that my mom has when she takes her first sip of any of the four cups of tea that she has in a given day. And to top it all off, one of my friends commented aloud that I had the same reaction that his mom has when she drinks tea. Well, what do you know.
But today was definitely the kicker. A few weeks ago, my mom had sent some food with me back up to Boston after I was home. The food went really well with some hot sauce that she included. I had gone straight to work from the bus station, and had the food she gave me for lunch. Since then, the bottle of hot sauce has remained on my desk at work.
About 30 minutes ago, I went to the cafeteria and picked up a ready made tuna sandwich. It was so bland. As I sat at my desk eating the sandwich, I thought "Man, this sucks." And then ... I saw the hot sauce. I poured it all over the sandwich and ate it. Trust me, there was no taste of tuna at all. It was like bread soaked in chili peppers. And to me, that was much more enjoyable than a tuna sandwich.
Somewhere out there ... there is a middle aged Indian woman wearing a mini skirt and listening to 50 cent.
5 comments:
There is absolutely nothing wrong with waking up on weekend mornings just so you can watch the Desi programming. Oh wait...that wasn't mentioned in your blog entry. Maybe I'm just projecting my own fobby antics on to you...Or maybe I'm not. ;)
And btw, Hot Sauce makes the world a better place. How do you think I survived in college? The "Indian-style potatoes" and "Chicken curry" weren't so bad once you doused them with some RedHot. :)
i relate to the chai drinking revelry that you too experience. Every time i blow at the steam and slurp up a tiny sip and then close my eyes and let out a tiny sigh, my friends love to laugh and tell me i'm like an indian grandmother. Not even aunty, but a grandma!
YOU wore the prosthetic ass! I completely forgot about that.
hi there, i found your blog via joyce's flog. i have to tell you, you're really amusing! i'm pretty much dying of boredom during my last week at work so you've helped make my afternoon fly by. =)
i douse everything in hot sauce too.
HEY! there's nothing wrong w/ being a FOB =)
I found your blog on Joykee's flog also!
I love your hairstyle. It suits you very well.
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