West Meets East (2)

Every time I return to Kayamkulam I take on a new battle. Quite frankly, I was hoping there wouldn't be one this time around. After all, haven't I ticked off most of the duties on my good daughter checklist? Sure I am no easy-going, observing the norms of Kerala society kind of a lady, but..but..

Several things made this a most unpleasant stay. Lets start with the first one, the insect bites. Most of the windows and vents are sealed by a relatively impenetrable net. But both Mike and I were bitten incessantly. After being away from these "petty" distresses for 2 years, it felt more distressing than back in the day. Mike insisted there were bed bugs, I wasn't sure and I didn't want to acknowledge the possibility because I knew if it was the case my parents weren't going to do enough to get rid of the problem on a permanent basis. We weren't able to find bed bugs, but on examining the underside of the mattress we discovered big black ants. I was pissed. For two reasons. One, if there is one thing I repeatedly ask my parents to do, it is to ensure that I have a clean, painless room in the house-- one where I don't get allergies, where I don't fall sick, where I don't sweat like a pig. A clean, dust free, ac room. Yep, I am a first-world bitch now. Amma does a lot to ensure these things. But sometimes you just need a cash injection and that is a decision negotiated with Acha.
Secondly, there is the Mike element. May be I can excuse my parents' oddities and their insistence on not spending money on things until the problem is too big, but how do I justify it to the American I want to accompany me to India year after year. Like I said, I was pissed and I expressed it. I said the bed is disgusting and Acha was convinced it wasn't. I asked him to check it himself, after which we all got on the same page. Amma laid the mattress out in the sun, and I made it clear that reusing it was a no-go. They bought a new mattress the next day.

After a day or two of lolling about, I had to go into professor mode and get all the final student projects graded. This is a lot of work, not only because of the volume and length of the assignments, but also because I overthink when it comes to grading. I suppose I will get better at this with time. But in the present instance, it meant that I was mostly unavailable to people for a week, other than during breakfast, lunch and dinner. Acha and amma spent quality time with Mike instead and I felt bad for leaving him stranded. In the future I will make it a point to wrap up grading before heading off to India, even if it means I spend less time there. By the time I was done with work, all the remaining time was spoken for. We had to go to TVM to meet relatives. I loathed this. Yes, it is common custom to go see these people, especially as a newly married couple. But I don't think that is a good enough reason. One, we were in India for only so long and just the idea of them being entitled to a visit is bloody obnoxious. Two, I don't care about these people, they make our lives more difficult than it needs to be, I can never be honest with them because they live in their own stuffy world full of priggish and outdated notions. All I have in common with them are some childhood memories, from a time when I was incapable of committing any of the adult wrongs and therefore fully uninhibited and loved. To make things easier, Achaamma set up an all-relatives-in-one-go dinner at a resort. For the longest time, I had no idea they did all this. And I didn't question it for the most part, because I was in auto-pilot mode. Do whatever the fuck I can and get out. Then Amma is informed by one aunt that some other aunt is displeased because they didn't invite her to the party. I found this insane. I don't ever see this woman or hang with her. I still don't know who this woman is, other than that she is linked to me through a string of other familiar relatives. This has nothing to do with affection, but everything to do with people insisting on being treated as if they are VIPs. Well, you are not lady. So get over it. Anyway, that is not what anyone says, is it? So Amma calls her up and gives her all the appropriate excuses for not inviting her, placating her ego. These are the sort of things I would like to kick my Amma for. Just stop giving people a sense of importance they don't deserve. Stop acting like you are literally on the bottom of the ladder for no reason. Like I still do with my ex-advisors (sigh).

Anyway, the next day we headed out to TVM. There were a bunch of people there whom I don't care a fig for, though I am sure they are perfectly nice people. I don't know why we were doing all this. No one really wanted to talk to me or Mike. The table immediately got divided into 3 sections, with women on one side, men on the other side, Mike, me and a couple of the kids in the middle. It was a ridiculous set up all around and completely meaningless. The only purpose it served was that of avoiding whiny complaints from a bunch of relatives who are always on the lookout for any social faux pas, so that they can drone on about things that mean absolutely nothing to anyone.

The upside was that I got to meet one of my nephews (my first cousin's son) after a long time. Probably the nicest kid in our extensive circle of nephews and nieces, and someone who yearns to run away from Kerala and ideally India. He felt suffocated and he wanted out. He couldn't stand how close-minded people were and how little he got to live the life he wanted.

We were put up in a hotel by the beach as a treat. Absolutely unnecessary, but I knew this made Achaamma feel better about making us jump through hoops, or at least it gave them a sense of having bought our cooperation fair and square. Ofcourse, you have to understand that Mike who is an adjusting fellow for the most part is pointing out problems every step of the way. Is that the smell of pee? What the fuck is with the size of cockroaches here? Your relatives are so boring. So I am left with this feeling of how I am much obliged to Mike for tagging along with me for all this, but I am also thinking someone just kill me already. Like what the fuck am I doing here, doing all this crap that pleases no one.

We walked along the beach the next day. Beaches thankfully have that quality of making life seem an easy-breezy affair. It also made me go back to that same idea, that I've been over many times at this point. I like being in Kerala, someday I would like to have a roughly 70-30 set up going between US and India. But I can't deal with these obligations and relatives, and I need my own space, not my parents' place because they run it in their own terms. Are these problems inescapable?

Afterwards, we went back to evil aunt's place, where I got to meet another nephew, who has decided that the best name for a hot dog is a bun burger. He is very into self-expression. He has a book where he illustrates everything around him and writes semi-fictional stories based on everyone he meets and his toys. His mum, my cousin, was in a less pleasant state. It seemed like the source of it was the politics and bureaucracy involved in her work-life. Later, the day before I was leaving for US, she called me and told me she felt disconnected from me. What could I say? Yes, we are very different people? She asked me to stay in touch and I said sure.

After TVM the plan was to meet up with two of my closest friends in Cochin. One of them backed out saying her husband needed to be taken to a hospital for surgery, which on its own sounds like a legitimate reason. However, she backed out of what should have been an all girl's bachelorette trip to Goa before my wedding. The trip I singularly arranged, even though I was the bride. I can forgive these things if I could have an inkling of hope of her taking the initiative to make real amends. Not some shoddy quick meet up over lunch.

I made sure she knew I was unhappy, because I am sick of beating around the bush with my friends. These people are supposed to be my best friends, but we are all growing apart on top of which flakiness doesn't stand a chance. I met up with her for lunch in Cochin because I figured I wouldn't see her for another year. And I didn't want to leave the entire thing hopeless. But frankly, I think it is. Her priorities are different from mine, her ideas of what is a good idea in terms of maintaining friendships are different from mine. Hers involves being a shoulder to cry on, even if that shoulder is a whatssap message. Mine involves spending time in person and making new fun memories.

I spent the first 2 days in Cochin with Mike. We went to Fort Cochin, had a nice chill time, got back to the city and the hotel which seemed a steal for the price we paid (Travancore Hotel). We got massages in the morning which was great except for the incessant chatter from the masseuse. Even though it was interesting chatter. She came from a conservative, cash-strapped household, and had to work her ass off to get her sisters married and provide for her parents. But her parents were on her case to marry some dude that her parents chose, to leave her job which they thought immodest. But she had other plans and a lot of ambition and optimism. I think she will ultimately succeed in getting her way. Mike and I had an ok dinner on a lovely evening in Fort Cochin—by the water, with a red moon hovering above us. This felt right. We tried to catch an auto to get back to the hotel, but the autowala suggested we get an Uber instead. It seems like autowalas now specialize in short trips and uber folks take on the rest.

The next day, my other friend came to Cochin and Mike made his exit. Achamma wanted to go to Athirapally, and Mike tagged along with them, giving me and Nats time to ourselves. I got Nats a dress which I hoped would show off her slim body. She looked sexy as hell in it and I was pleased. I want her to know how much of a babe she is, because husbands do forget. We hung out, ate, chatted, shopped. All the classic things that girls do. But even those things felt different with only the two of us and because stuff is just stuff, unless you have people to enjoy it with.

Back in Kayamkulam, Mike and I were lounging on the veranda, when we heard something go "Thap!" against the windowpane. We realized it was some sort of a bird. It turned out to be a baby kingfisher. I called out for reinforcements and Sheela chechi and Amma came by and worked their magic. They stroked it gently and the bird gained consciousness and flew away.

On New Year's, my cousin (the one who went around telling everyone that Mike is from Israel) invited us all over to his parents' place next door. They do the usual cake-cutting, and once again we were forced to eat dry fruit cake which seems to have flooded Kerala. He also announced his plan to start a new phone business. We all accepted it for what it was and congratulated him and wished him luck, all the while hoping for the best-case scenario of it never taking off.

Over the course of the stay, Acha and I didn't really get along. For a while now, I've been feeling that we don't connect the way we used to. I have been less patient with him and he more wary of my independence. One day, towards the end of the stay, as Acha sat in that familiar position, on the couch in front of the TV, and as I passed by, he asked me to go sit down beside him. For a fleeting moment I was hopeful. I think, Acha wants to say something nice to me. But then I quickly correct my expectations to Acha wants to give me some innocuous words of wisdom. He tells me that I should start thinking of having children. That Mike would like some. I tell him that I think I know my husband better than him to which he says, do you? I am pissed, very pissed, that one, my dad is manipulative, two, that what others need come above what I need, even for my dad, that getting my act together, having a job, being independent and not some leech for whom they have to pay lakhs to find a job or college admissions or anything of the sort doesn't really count for much unless I  make babies. To hell with babies. To hell with everyone.