Cultural Chop suey

There are many things about the City of Angels that stand out in my mind. The sheer vastness of the landscape, the movie stars I often get to see down the street, the smog that decends ever so often, the beaches with their freezing water. And, of course, the insane enthic mix of people around. At least if you're like me and you study at UCLA. My friends range from Indian (every desi is my brother/sister:)) to Chinese (from China, Britain, American, Canada) to Greek to half-Norwegian to, of course, American. And places in between. I have always been culturally curious. I need to understand why people act the way they do and trace their behavior back in history as far as I can. I'm sure many of my friends find my constant barrage of questions quite annoying. That has never stopped me from asking though:-) A Chinese friend and I argued about the label 'Asian'. which is commonly used to refer to people of East and South-East Asian origin. I insist that I, though Indian, am as Asian as she is. So we discussed what would be least offensive - oriental (which she likened to furniture but, which another friend insisted merely meant 'from the East') or mongoloid. We still haven't reached a consensus. We Indians like to fondly refer to ourselves as brownies or desis. Then there is White America. They don't get any cool nicknames though. I don't mean to leave out any of the other groups but, right now, my story is going to be about two of my mongoloid-origin (oriental?) friends and me. (Note: As it turns out, Mongloid is an offensive term. Should probably stick to Oriental!)

It all began when we decided to do an all girl movie night. The movie - Slumdog Millionaire. Being the only Indian in L.A. who hadn't seen the movie an year after its release, I felt left out. It's true. Social pressure was on me. And my friends thought it would be more fun watching it with me so that I could explain the finer nuances. Explaining the nuances of your culture to someone outside of it is hard. And it's also illuminating. Thinking of your world from the outside instead of merely accepting it from the inside opens your mind and helps you understand yourself better. So we set the date. Now that the movie and the date were set, the next step was deciding the menu. Here's what the plan was - E & S would whip together some vegetarian Chinese food to prove to me that a. tofu had taste and b. that tofu had taste. (This seems like a good time to mention the obvious - I don't think tofu has any taste). I was going to make the one Indian dessert I can make - Mango Srikhand. I was then forced to put together some Indian curry. I decided to go for mushroom masala, one of my own favorites. Lucky for me, my mom had just been down to visit and had refilled my spice cabinet. There was no need for a trip to the Indian grocery store (phew!). So I tagged along to this magical place with my friends. R..99, a Chinese supermarket. It was like waking through the strip mall gates and entering another world, one of rice and meat. Where bread is called toast and buns are made of rice. I can honestly say it has been one of the most interesting places I've been to in my time here. I walked down the aisles in wonder.. some things were familiar of course - Del Monte stuff and tofu and soy sauce. But, it felt other-worldly somehow. Watching how these brands had adapted themselves to the Chinese palate. There were aloe drinks, and pork rinds and a LOT of sweet stuff. I couldn't find anything that was savory and vegetarian. But, I did find Indian curry powder:P The vegetables were different too. I saw so many, well, pastaries, with red beans in them. In my mind, beans are supposed to be salty. Well, not anymore. Chop sticks. Tea. So much tea. There was this one dessert - a mochi. A small ball with a whopping 485 calories in it! I came to a few conclusions about Chinese cuisine while I was there - the flavors they like are sweetish, fish-ish, and far more subtle than I am used to. Green tea is a popular flavor. They have something called seaseme crunch and peanut crunch, similar to our own chiki. But it tastes different. Bean curd is not a 'curd' at all, at least not the way we think about it. It's just harder tofu. Grains are not really dominating the dinner table in this culture. Manchurian does not exist :-( It reminded me of an Indian supermarket but, with some deliberate mistakes. Maybe a store from another dimension. I wondered if they would feel the same in an Indian store. All an attempt to preserve Chinese culture and flavors in a far off land. Some people shopping there had never even been to China! My friends were finally done with their shopping and we headed back home - each to her own kitchen. While I was cooking, I tried very hard not to make the food too spicy. As it turns out, my friends tried very hard to make the food as spicy as possible:D And there we had it, a table laden with goodies. A warm green tea-red bean muffin had started my day. De-lish. Very interesting. Sweet corn soup (something I do know and love:D) and some stir fried green stuff. And tofu. Which I tasted. It looked red but it still had no taste. My friends were shocked. So finally, they tried my mushrooms. And both burst out laughing. They understood what I was talking about at last. Now, it was my turn to be surprised. To us Indians, the curry (sabji) is something to be eaten with either rice or a bread of some sort. My friends used chop sticks and were eating my curry as a stand alone dish. Because it was too spicy they thankfully added a slice of bread to the mix. Brown bread, mushroom masala and chop sticks, in an apartment in Los Angeles, with Jai Ho playing in the background. Some things can boggle even me. They loved it though. I have never seen 2 girls eat that much curry before. I was beginning to worry about the after effect of the spices. They seemed fine though. And I was enjoying my soup:D While watching the movie, I saw their looks of alternating horror and puzzlement. We discussed whether I would call the hero good looking or not. Whether all of India was like the slums depicted in the movie. Looking at my home from the outside, I felt it was impossible to explain India, the beauty, the history and the million other different things that are a part of its being and have been for millenia. And they couldn't explain their tofu to me. Or their sweet, red beans. I like my water at room temperature. They drink warm water. In America, people drink ice cold ice water. They envy my long legs (??). I envy their small frames and straight hair and awesome skin. But we're friends. And that is the miracle. What it took, how many wars, how many lives and scientific discoveries and defining moments in history, how many forgotten sacrifices and dreams before an Indian, a Taiwanese-American and a Chinese can sit together and not feel out of place. We drank to it all, a proud salute our people and our world. Cheers, with green tea and masala-nimboo pani.