Cultural divide

“Does it bother you that you’re the minority in this store?” my last serious boyfriend, who happened to be East Indian, asked as we were wandering up and down the aisles of an Indian grocery store looking for MTR brand masala and frozen roti to make for a quick dinner.

It didn’t bother me in the least and in large part I have my parents to thank. I was raised blind to color. My parents never said look at that black man or oh, what a beautiful Chinese baby. They always said things like what a nice man or apologize for bumping into that woman. I had a black roommate my freshman year of college and I’ve had white, black, German, Mexican and multiracial roommates since.

I wasn’t prepared, though, for how my recent fling ended this past weekend. The man I had been seeing the past month was, by coincidence, also East Indian but from a much stricter background than my ex. This man had attended a boarding school during his childhood years in India, a great university on the east coast and had lived in the Bay Area the past eight years.

“My parents called last night and want me to meet someone that lives in New York,” he said over brunch in the mutual location he had selected for this talk. “My dad has never asked me for a favor, my mom was crying over the phone, and I feel horribly obligated to do this. If we had been dating longer, it would be a different story. I’m the only one in the U.S. and forgot about my family obligations in Chennai.”

He told me later what I had already guessed from our long conversation that morning: his mom did not like the idea of her son dating a white woman. He had just told them about me the night before and it didn’t go over very well. And when it comes down to it, I feel sorry for the guy and am glad we dated only a short period and can remain friends.

I have experienced growing up bilingual and having half of my family living on another continent. I, however, do not have the burden of being raised Western with expectations to follow Eastern traditions. I do understand the cultural divide and I respect it. I just hate that at age 31, the guy I dated with an incredible amount of potential for a long-term relationship had to succumb to traditions that he’ll likely make sure his children never have to endure.

Race, culture, globalization and the relationships that develop carry interesting burdens, traditions and potential. It’s the process of adapting, teaching and learning from one another that really creates growth and generates understanding.

On a side note, there’s a semi-interesting new series on television regarding switching races called Black.White.