Namaste mere dosts! (Warm greetings to everyone in Hindi). Despite residing in the United States all my life, my heart belongs to India only. Of course I have grown attached to the United States, but the multitudes of culture and traditions of India have made me the very person I am today. While being raised up in the United States, I was exposed to several instances of Indian culture, such as the grand ceremonial weddings that can last for a week (the length of my parents wedding!), the delectable foods, and the religious beliefs. I greatly respect my religion, for it gives me a sense of hope and the chains I wear around my neck illustrate this. Even though my family and I are not overly religious, we still follow some of its practices. For instance, we built a mandar (temple in Hindi) in our home for prayers, we show respect to our elders by touching their feet, and have festivities to express our love for our Bgwhaan (G0d) and Indian counterparts. In addition, I can speak and understand Hindi, but still need to learn how to read and write. In fact, I know more Spanish than I do Hindi (got to love the irony…) Nevertheless, I will continue to learn my culture and respect it.

When I was young my parents instilled many important values within and taught me about the beautiful sights in India, such as the Golden Temple of India and the Taj Mahal. I have visited India three times, but it was the last visit that I can lucidly recall. In my 3rd visit to India, I was about 13 years old and witnessed the grand culture India so magnificently displayed to me. Here, allow me to describe the scene for you (this was in New Delhi, India): houses with flat rooftops, the cows walking on the streets, children playing with stray dogs, and wonderfully designed temples permeated throughout the city. It definitely was a new sight for me, for I have seen nothing like this in New York City. Furthermore, I was fortunate enough to have been in India during the summer because I had the opportunity celebrate with my family Independence Day in India on August 15th. I remember vividly the thousands of kites that were flying in the clear, blue sky and all the children and adults who were persistently trying to knock down each others kites; the large gathering of people who were dancing to the tune of a drum and singing. Seeing everyone have a merry time was truly was a glorious sight.

Also, a cool fact of me is most of the family members from my dad’s side of the family live in the United States now and all my mom’s family, who lived in India all their lives, just recently moved to Malaysia (how exciting!). Even though I am patriotic towards my country, India, I would not opt to live there due to the difficult conditions of life there and extremely torrid, humid weather (last time I went during the summer it reached a whopping 112 degrees!). Even though I haven’t been to India in over 5 years now, I am fortunate enough to partake in many scintillating Indian festivities in the United States. For example, this summer I went to my cousin’s wedding, which lasted for about 5 days and it was spectacular. Here let me share with you the extravagant and cultural aspects of this costly wedding: the groom appeared on a white horse, which was greatly ornamented with brilliantly jeweled clothing, people dancing around the groom while the drums were being played (called ‘Dhol’), the bride wearing heavy sets of gold and clothing around her, a priest to perform the ceremonial and religious aspects of the wedding, and a beautifully decorated dining hall (there’s more…but this shall suffice, :D). Basically, even after living in the United States I have had the chance to celebrate and enjoy my Indian culture.

Next, I would like to the introduce ‘bhangra,’ a dance that holds a special significance in my culture. Basically, bhangra is a type of dance that combines pop music from Western civilizations with Indian Punjabi music. I find this dance as a significant part of my culture because it portrays the merriment and sense of community between two different groups of people; it depicts the relationship between Indians and the people from the West and a delightful amalgamation of two completely different cultures can be seen. To see this sense of unity between these groups of people makes me happy and shows that everyone can get along in some form, in this case through music and culture. Bhangra is one of the dominant forms of music in modern Indian culture today and I must say that bhangra can get a timid person like me dancing on my feet!

Overall, these Indian customs and religious beliefs have become an important part of my life. Even to this day, I enjoy listening to Indian music more than any other form of music and would prefer Indian food over anything. I might be in some sense American, but I consider myself to be a true Indian and will always uphold this belief. With all the amazing things Indian culture has offered to me, I can definitely say that I am proud to be an Indian.

I’m a mutt. Yeah, most people wouldn’t want to stick themselves with that term, but there’s no other way to describe my heritage. Puerto Rican, Italian, German, and lastly  Irish. So, where does my loyalty lie? To make my life simpler when explaining I tend to say Spanish and Italian.  However, if I really sit down and think about it, Aren’t we all just really American? If we’re born here, does that not mean we “pledge our allegiance” here? 

 ANYWAY…

When I think about what culture I really feel comfortable with, it’s definitely with the Italians. I mean come on, who could resist that amazing Sunday dinner and the entire family knowing all your business. Okay, maybe I can pass on the whole nosey family thing but the food, oh man…the food. Every time we all get together it’s like a buffet, and even though every year we promise to make less, it always seems to be more. The pasta, the chicken, the eggplant, the pasta, the salad, the pasta, its endless. I can’t even get started on the desserts! It seems like every time we meet it’s to feed an army. I live by the quote “home is where the heart is.” My heart lies with my family without a doubt.

I’ll admit it, that’s totally not my family, but in my dorm I don’t have the resources I need to uncover a family portrait. However, this could very easily be my family. The ridiculous amount of children and the rowdy adults. I may be a hell of a lot of things, but Italian is the one I’m most proud of…

Unless you watch Jersey Shore, that’s just embarrassing.

Happy October !

In my show and tell blog, blog numba five, I would like to tell you about my community: Persians. Note: also known as Iranians but frankly, Persians sounds a lot cooler. Think about it, Persia vs. The Islamic Republic of Iran…clearly, no competition.

Even though I was born in America I’ve always considered myself a Persian. After all, literally my entire family is from Persia. Now I won’t talk about any of the icky politics because it’s quite the grrr-inducing topic. Instead, I want to tell you all about the best thing about being Persian…celebrating the Persian New Year, Nowruz! Now I have nothing against our new year, I myself am a huge fan of watching the ball fall, screaming, and playing with those party noisemakers. But seriously, Nowruz is grrrrrrrrrrrrrrreat. It’s also much more logical than ours. The Persian New Year takes place on the spring equinox, March 20^th. As the Earth welcomes spring and the cycle of rebirth, Persians welcome their new year.

 The whole celebration starts on the last Wednesday night of the year, aka Chaharshanbe Suri. Based on the ancient traditions of Zoroastrians you jump over a fire (don’t knock it till you’ve tried it) singing zardi-ye man az to, sorkhi-ye to az man. Which means, my sickly yellow paleness is yours, your fiery red color is mine. This is meant as a purification rite.

Above, is a picture of the haft-sîn or the seven S’s another pivotal tradition in Nowruz. They are a collection of seven items starting with the letter s, each of which symbolizes something significant. They are: sabzeh (wheat – symbolizing rebirth), samanu (sweet pudding from wheat – symbolizing affluence), senjed (the dried fruit of the oleaster (sounds funny) tree (symbolizes love), sīr (garlic – symbolizing medicine), sīb (apples – symbolizing beauty and health), somaq (sumac berries – symbolizing the color of sunrise), serkeh (vinegar – symbolizing age and patience). Isn’t pretty? There are many more things you can put on the table like fish, candles, a mirror, etc. but they are optional while the haft-sīn is mandatory.

Now there’s one song that always makes my stomach full of Persian butterflies (terrible metaphor but whatchya gonna do), it’s called Nowruz and here’s the link to a clip of it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7TfZJ7V3yc . He’s basically saying: Happy New Year everybody! I wish your New Year is full of happiness, success and downright awesomeness. Whenever I hear this song I always start jumping up and down, getting all excited, singing and dancing a long (not very well I might add). In fact, we have established a rule in my house that the song can’t be played until Nowruz is close because then I get so excited and crazy, driving my whole family berserks and all in vain because the wondrous day is months a way. Even though I sort of maybe, broke the rule when writing this blog…but shhh.

When people asked me about my ethnicity, I would automatically say “I’m Chinese”. Although I was not born in China  (I am embarrassed to say that I have never even set foot in my own country) and have been raised in Americanized surroundings, I am still very familiar with my culture. Ever since I was young, I lived with my grandma, who was very adamant in teaching her grandchildren everything she knew about our nation. Even now, when we are all grown up, she would sit us down after dinner, and tell us about the most wonderful aspects of the Chinese culture, from the different styles of martial arts, to the great leaders we’ve had. Had it not been for her, I would have been completely ignorant about my own race.

Living in such a diverse state such as New York, it gets hard to live solely by the “standards” of my own culture. For example, Chinese people are usually very conservative, which is a great contrast from the more open and friendly lifestyle of typical Americans. Even something as simple as greeting someone…Americans would hug each other or give a quick peck on the cheek. The Chinese, however, ( like my grandma) would find those gestures “more than necessary”. I find myself leaning more towards the American style. Now, when people ask me about my ethnicity, I would say “I’m Chinese-American”. Although I was raised by strict Chinese values, living in the United States for so long has made me an American just as much as I am Chinese.

One thing that our culture emphasizes very often is “family”. “Family” is one of the things that makes our country so strong. I’ve once heard the quote, “Regulated families bring about well-governed states.”I think these words are the epitome of our family oriented culture. The first thing I was taught as a toddler was to respect my elders at all times. The second thing was that there is nothing more important in the world than your own family. My parents have always told me to put my family members first, because at the end of the day, they are the ones who are always there to support and love you no matter what.

 I’m able to relate to this painting because I’ve grown up with a very big and harmonious family. This picture expresses what is most important to me and shapes our culture very well. I hope that years from now, I would have a family of my own, just like the one in the painting and teach my children the values of both American and Chinese cultures.

What’s the one song you never forget? The one song that is passed down from generation to generation, the tune that will forever stay in your mind? The ABC’s of course!

I didn’t grow up in a house with much of distinct cultural background. I grew up among some non-practicing Christian Caucasians. Sure, my father is full blow Italian, my mother is German and Polish, but their lineage never really played a hand in shaping my cultural identity. Growing up, I watched Sesame Street, read Dr. Seuss and ate apple pie. My culture is thoroughly American, and that is why I think that the ABC’s represents my culture.

You know, honestly, this song is completely under-rated. It’s one of the first songs we all learn, my mother learned it from her mother and so on and so forth and I know I will teach it to my own children. I can not tell you how many of the kids who I have babysat have come running up to me, barely able to contain their excitement as they slowly fumbled through the letters of the alphabet to the tune that sounds suspiciously like Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. The first time one can recite the ABC’s is the first step in reading, writing, communicating. It’s the first big step of your life.

And when you think about it, you realize that this mind-numbingly simple song, this educational nursery rhyme is a fundamental statement in our lives that first instills the American Spirit into our minds. There are so many countries, so many cultures when literacy is non-essential, when the ability to read and write is a luxury-something  only the most educated can do. But in America, being literate opens the doors to all forums of communication. Through communication can be found opportunity, which is what America stands for. Learning your ABC’s is thoroughly American.

When you can spell, you can write. When you can write you can write letters, memos, essays, articles, songs, poems, novels, resumes. All of these things will ultimately lead to your success.

So, to sum up what we have learned so far, learning the ABC’s as a child leads to learning to read, learning to spell, learning to write, which leads to opportunity and then leads to success. Theretofore, learning the ABC’s leads to success.

Success: What is possibly more sought after in America? White picket fence and a green lawn surrounding that nice house with blue shutters…it takes a lot of money to afford that particular American dream, so it requires a lot of success. But even if you don’t aspire to have any great wealth, the only way to make something of yourself, to be the person that you want to be and do the career you want to do, (also part of the American way, this idea of opportunity and freedom) is to learn your ABC’s. To me, this is one of the most significant songs in my culture, even if it didn’t originate here. The song has certainly become one of the many milestones in finding not only the “American Way” but who you are. Who would have thought it was that simple?

I consider myself a Pakistani, despite being born in America. I have grown up in the United States but never fully immersed myself in its culture. My parents have instilled Pakistani culture, values and traditions in me. They have become a big part of my life. It defines who I am. Growing up, I would wear jeans and a t-shirt to school, but I would change my clothes when I got home. I would change into traditional Pakistani clothing called shalwar kameez, because it is traditional and “modest” clothing. I would usually eat Pakistani foods for lunch and dinner. But, now that my sisters and I are older, we are exposed to other types of foods and we introduce those foods to my parents as well. Actually, now when we go out to eat, my dad prefers we have anything but Pakistani food. I haven’t watched as many American movies as I do now. I haven’t listened to a lot of American music, but I do now. I have grown up listening to and watching Pakistani music and movies. It was my parent’s attempt to teach us Pakistani culture, while living in the United States.

I’ve only visited the country twice. Once when I was 2 years old and then again when I was 9. I don’t remember much from my first visit, for obvious reasons. But visiting my country at the age of 9 was a great experience for me. I attended my cousin’s wedding, met most of my relatives, and saw a part of everyday life that I wasn’t used to. I never wore jeans during my visit, because I would be considered an outsider, a foreigner. In my attempt to learn more about my country, I rode the rickshaws, the horse-drawn rides, ate street food, visited the village, and smelled the country. It has a distinct smell, that I miss at times. I would love to visit the country again, but it’s just not possible under the current circumstances of the country.

Pakistan’s Independence Day is August 14th. Every year, there are parades and festivals throughout the city to celebrate the country’s independence. It is really important for me to attend the parades and festivals because it connects me to my country. People try to make it similar to the environment of the country, by selling country flags, traditional clothing and jewelry, and street food. It’s the closest I can get to my country’s atmosphere and environment without actually being in it.

I love attending the annual parade in Manhattan; there’s a mutual feeling of pride that exists. People show their pride by wearing the colors of the flag: green and white.

Patriotic songs arouse so much pride within me because of the emotion that they convey. My favorite Pakistani song is Dil Dil Pakistan by Vital Signs. It’s linked with national occasions and ceremonies, and is probably the most famous patriotic song after the national anthem. The title of the song means Heart, Heart, Pakistan, in its literal translation. It’s so meaningful probably because of the lyrics, which focus on the land and sky of the country. The song talks about the soul and heart of the country. I heard this song about 5 years ago, when I went to my first Pakistani Day Parade. I immediately fell in love with the song because it has so much passion and inspiration.  There’s just something special about this song that I can’t explain.  It just hits home with me, because I haven’t been able to experience the land and sky of the country as much as I would like to; but there’s still a sense of homesickness.

Though I receive much opposition, I believe Egypt, in all aspects, is the greatest country on earth.  It is my homeland, a place where relief and peace reach me effortlessly. It is where I most identify, where I belong.  We (my ancient Egyptian ancestors and I :P) are most famous for building some of the longest lasting artifacts, the pyramids and the art and culture that came along with them.

    
Whenever someone says Egypt, this is the image they get in their heads.  I know because I’ve been asked plenty of ridiculous questions about whether I live in the pyramids, whether I ride camels to school, even if I get chased by mummies (I was not surrounded by the smartest of children -_-). And I am proud of it, I am proud of this image.  To know that I belong to one of the first and the longest lasting civilizations means a lot and to see the evidence of that in every museum I’ve been feels awesome!

Sadly, this feeling of awesomeness is not shared by all my fellow natives.  My relatives in Egypt hate living there, among the chaos and persecution, and constantly tell me how lucky I am for living in the land of opportunity.  My cousin is dying to go forth with the torturous immigration process just to be out of there, like many of the other youth in the country. I understand Egypt doesn’t not hold the ideal of conditions; trust me, they’re far from it.  But there’s underlying beauty in it all.  In all of the dust, in all of the chaos, even in all the heat! The people are truly genuine, something so rare in America. If they love you, they offer all they have, no matter what it is and no matter their financial condition.  If they hate you, they’ll make that very clear.  But you can deal with the hatred because at least it’s not stabbing you in the back.

Driving down the roads I can smell farmland, which never ceases to amaze me.  They live from the ground and not everything is about making money.  They make just enough to survive, making people value what they have all the more.  Their cars are drab and their fashion, well let’s just say it’s not runway material. But it fits in with it’s environment, I’m completely in love with it.

Which makes me feel terrible when people get too distracted by the politics of it. My parents, who have supposedly seen more of Egypt, are glad to have left it.  They trash the corrupt government and the thieves that own the country, and they have every right. But look at the simplicity, look for the beauty beyond all that.  My friends who have immigrant parents but only know Egypt from our community in America condemn the culture with all that they have.  Being the new generation, they have rejected anything “old-fashioned” and having to do with lives in Egypt.  I understand some things don’t work for a lifestyle here, but not everything is complete garbage.  There are some traditions and idiosyncrasies that are unique to the culture, especially for the holidays, that make it all the more special. How can you condemn it so?

Some people just can’t see it the way that I do. That’s why the song that I attribute so well to my feelings is “Mashribtish Min Nilha” by Sherine (YouTube it!).  In this song she speaks of her love for her country (Egypt) by questioning the Egyptians.  She asks, have you drank from her (her being Egypt, a feminine term) Nile? Have you walked around her streets and told her your troubles? Have you sung your heart out to her? She concludes that those who have not left Egypt cannot miss her; they have not tasted anything else, so they cannot realize her glory, though it towers over all, that glory.

I have been deprived of being able to read and write my language and to grow up with this culture imbedded within me in the name of privilege and opportunity. I am considered a foreigner there, one with different principles and belonging to the “sinful” country that is America.  I dress in a different way and definitely think differently. I misspoke earlier when I said I belonged there: I don’t, it is where I want to belong. I don’t belong here either; it is the immigrant’s plight, to no longer have a land for which to belong.  However, as unwanted as I probably am, I want nothing more than to return and visit. It is still the place of my birth, the place from which my ancestors derived. An Egyptian folk song once said, “Masr heya omi, Nilha howa dammi” directly translated to be ‘Egypt is my mother, her Nile is my blood.’ Every time I hear it I’m just like yeah, exactly, that’s exactly right.

Being born and raised in China, I have no doubt about where I belong. The minute I stepped into America, I knew exactly which community I should stay with. As time passes, the fact that I am so depended on the Chinese community often annoys me. By saying this, I do not mean my community is bad. I am afraid that I don’t have the courage to step out of this community like many others, and thus, get stuck in there for the rest of my life. I simply cannot imagine myself working in Chinatown after twenty years as I do now.

Of course, there are some aspects that I don’t like within this so-called Chinese-American community. As a native Chinese, I can say with confidence that I know Chinese cultures and traditions better than many people within this community. What I feel really sad about my community is that people abandon their traditions intentionally in order to appear to be “Americanized”. I often feel silly for people who talk in what I call “American Chinese” to show how qualify they are as Americans. Recently, some community leaders become more aware about the loss of Chinese cultures, so they create many “cultural advocacy programs” in the community. I do not think these programs will have any significant results. After all, cultures and traditions are pass on generations by generations. It cannot be “taught back” with the same quality and meaning once it is abandoned.

Spending half of this entry talking about my silly opinions, it is time to talk about arts. When you ask me which arts can represent the Chinese culture the most, I can name thousands of them. All of them are equally significant and important to me as part of the Chinese culture. However, there is a little handicraft that gradually becomes the symbol of Chinese culture in many foreigners’ eyes. You can see it on almost every Chinese style decoration. It might be the first thing you think of when talking about Chinese handicraft, but you don’t know exactly what it is. This handicraft has at least a thousand years of history and was preserved in any kind of Chinese cultures. It is Chinese knot.

Why are Chinese knots so significant? Just because it is so common and beautiful? Maybe not. Chinese knots symbolize what every Chinese treasures the most—union, auspiciousness and wellness. These “norms” are deeply founded in Chinese people’s hearts that no matter where they go, these “norms” will follow them, and remind them of their traditions. There are many kinds of Chinese knots and each has a different purpose. Yet, they all contain the same meaning—the best benediction to the people who receive them.

To me, no matter how traditional I am and how “Americanized” the people in my community are, Chinese knots can always tie us together. We once share the same cultures and traditions, just like most Chinese knots start with a single string. We then go in different directions to seek our life, just like the string is braided into different patterns. At last we are all tie together again, just like the Chinese knots. We are all bonded at the beginning by the same string of culture and origin. No matter what we abandon, the knots still tie us together with those Chinese “norms”.