White Warts and All

Good friends had a house warming yesterday. They had been renters in the complex when they first moved back from the US but after some time they decided to purchase a flat for their own. From what I understand there was a series of poojas that were performed by a priest and with the owners, but as the pooja started at 4.30 am I was not around to testify to what actually happened. The girls and Marvel dropped by before school and then Marvel and I returned mid-morning. I borrowed simply lovely sari from a friend and managed to get some help making it look “model like”. All of our Sankalp buddies had not shown up yet, so mostly the people present at the pooja were family of our friends. People we hadn’t met before (a.k.a. people who haven’t been up close and personal with a white woman married to a brown man). As we walked out of the elevators I could feel the eyes on us. And they didn’t leave us the whole time. The way Indians stare it should be an Olympic Event. There is no shame. There is no blinking. There is no smiling. There is no looking away to avoid being caught.

One long wall of the main room was lined with plastic chairs stretching from the entryway the whole length of the room. All the plastic chairs are filled with woman. As we walked in the door all eyes looked up and followed us. I try to accept the fact that folks are just curious, not malicious, and carry on. We found our friends and said hello. We found their daughter, who is Flip's best buddy, and assured her Flip would be back for lunch. We checked out the new flat, which was of course gorgeous. And then we sat on the floor. And as I looked up I found all of the woman in the plastic chairs had turned their heads away from the pooja and were staring at us. Marvel and I carried on as we do, sitting close and discussing what needed to happen in the day to be ready for our trip to Bangalore. Flip's buddy, Surahbi, came up frequently to me for help tying something on her skirt, to throw away trash or to just ask a question. When the photographer took her photo, and I asked her to, she gave a BIG smile- the kind of smile I know her mom and dad would love to see in a picture. Surahbi is a kid. Without a doubt I know she sees my white skin. She has asked me about it. But mostly what she sees is Flip’s mom. I am the lady who has given her popsicles, set up tents made of sheets, helped her go potty, wiped away her tears when her friend, Flip, wasn’t being nice, told her NO, and let her make a mess of my house.

I firmly believe everyone should embrace the chance to be the minority in their life. It is hard to be the “only one” in the room. It is hard to realize no matter what you do you will always be the odd one out, you will be judged by some unknown standards, or you might be asked the most uncomfortable questions. It is hard to accept that most of the time this is done not out of ill will, but out of ignorance from the majority. But it is even more difficult to accept and to reflect on the fact that you have probably done this to some other minority in your ignorance. But on the other side, I pray everyone has the chance to feel completely accepted, white warts and all, for exactly who they are and what they can honestly offer up to others.