1980 Desi Aunty

Back in the 80s, as youngsters in the community we had a lot of respect for the 'desi aunties'. They were women we looked up to and held as important guides to our future. They were mothers and wives who had never-ending knowledge and a type of wisdom. They also seemed to be the ones who would catch you at the wrong place and time, always when you were wagging school, hanging out with a guy, lighting up a smoke or probably something even worse, wearing a short skirt! These were the women that your mother warned you about, that is 'what if you get seen coming out of maccas' or 'what if they find out about the birthday party at a licensed restaurant' etc. Your mother would claim in despair that she would be ruined, when in fact it was your reputation as a young unmarried woman that was really under threat.

It's interesting how now as adults we see these women for who they truly are. They were women who had migrated to Australia with their husbands, they set up house and became mothers. In their time, women didn't work outside the home even though they were educated. They raised their children and had alot of time to discuss others. These same women (I write this with amusement)were the ones who provided us with career advice! Always willing to put in their ten cents worth and yet, we took their opinions to heart instead of weighing whether or not, the advice was relevant or sound.

When I see the same women who are now elderly, I wonder if they have learnt their lesson, accepted the fact that their advice and opinions may have been hurtful and if they really understood what they were saying. They had so little life experience as independent working women, did they know? Do they know that we still remember the comments? That we still associate the comments with them, even after twenty years? Have they passed this on to the next generation?

At a crowded function a couple of weeks ago, I watched one in particular who promoted a 'rich' versus 'poor' class society. Which is funny because Australia is pretty much a classless society in comparison to the Asian sub continent. She wandered about the hall, meeting and greeting people. She would offer her limp hand for her salaams and air kiss women in the same way she did many years ago. I hoped that she has changed and that her children were better people.

One thing I have learnt is that I will not be like them!

The motherland- mine or yours?

Motherland- a simple word. One that I identify as being the place where one is born, raised and holds much affection. In my marriage, there are two places referred to as this. Each has played a part in the types of people we have become and will help to shape our children. I remember when I was younger, my father would always refer to the 'magical' motherland as the place where life was simple, full of memories of family and experiences. A village, a family, hardship but a place where love and self-belief made people stronger and able to overcome hardships. My parent's generation was the first wave of migrant in the late 60s. They were one of the many people who travelled to Australia just after the abolition of the White immigration policy. They came with little but great hope for the future. Did my parents know that many years down the track, they would still miss there motherland? That they would still be having discussions about it? Cheering for it's successes and  holding back their tears for her tragedies?

The man I married behaves in a similar way with endless stories of college antics, history and family stories. It's difficult to be encouraged to visit a place that's different and be expected to hold it with the same affection. To listen to the stories of it's past and share in the saddness of it's present state. To look at his 'motherland' in the way I respect and love mine.............. is a challenge.

The Designer War

The fight for designer clothing is ruthless and a brutal business in the Desi Wives World. Who wore what and where discussions becomes a national occupation. If it doesn't have a label then it's not worth the discussion. It seems everyone has an informed opinion. The more clothes they have and hours spent infront of satellite tv, the greater the expert.

The interesting thing about this is that people in the desi Wives world come from different parts of the country and cultures with different interpretations of style.Over time together they seem to have developed one style that's created simply because they exist as a group and need to look alike to compete.

When a new store opened in town, women rushed to check out the clothing, then long winded discussions flowed over dinners about what they saw, what the latest trends were on satellite tv and who was wearing what.

At functions, many clothes in similar colours and designs flooded the halls, each women taking compliments about their outfits and what was more interesting was that they felt obligated to stress where they had purchased the outfits. It was not for the sake of the advertising the store(which is doing well mind you), but the fact that they wanted people to know that a)they paid AUD for their clothing b) the clothes were expensive designer outfits. It became a game of 'I paid more that $100 for my outfit, oh you purchased your outfit overseas? You cheapskate!'.

The Davaat Queen 2010

The year has rolled around so quickly, it was on this new years eve were my life kinda fell into place. I had so many questions and little answers about the best way to become a Desi Wive. Unlike previous years of hanging around at home, we were dressed up and out. Not on an all nighter raging new year party but at  a Desi Wive's home for a lavish dinner. I suspect the hostess had been slaving away in the kitchen for a few days. There she stood in all her glory before all. Her hair and make-up perfect, wearing a designer salwar kameez. Smiling at her guests as she carried a huge tray of biryani to the dinning table. It all looked so perfect- the food, the hostess and guests. As she glided towards the table, her loyal guests 'ooohed' and 'ahhed' at her efforts causing her smile to deepen then  grow into a grin.I could tell that she was used to this, she looked like a queen walking slowly towards the altar. She'd pause occassionally to meet the eyes of her loyal followers. I think it's what Oprah calls an 'ah ha' moment. I had one of those, while watching her. It's the moment that all Desi Wives aim for, it's where the adulation and success meet publically. It's where she is formally crowned 'queen'. 

Why?

I wonder why,
We made the choices we did,
Why we chose the inexperienced,
The ones without wisdom,
As our guides,


I wonder why,
So many people left,
Travelling into a world alone,
Leaving their parents and friends behind,
In hope of a better life,
Away from the pain and anguish,
Faraway..
Burying their pasts,
Becoming another,
Someone new,


Two cultures,
One person,
So many critics,
Few Supporters,
A lone journey,
To find a place,
Between East and West,
A balance,
A love that's illusive,
Happiness and sorrow become one,
It's an existence,
One that's accepted,
A compromise..
Is it worth it?

The Eastern Man

On the week-end I was reading the paper and came across an article about a vibrant and decisive Syrian actress, Nihad Alaeddin. She'd led a colorful life as a dancer and then actress eventually becoming a writer and director making films criticizing the double standards of the 'eastern man'. She gained a cult following turned her back on the public eye. She was the first Muslim Syrian actress to perform a nude screen in the late 70s. She never felt the need to apologize for it when the Syrian public was outraged. The public demanded an apology but attendance at the screenings were high(wonder why?) then the film became  a box office hit.  In her interview about the 'Eastern man' she says, 'He studies in Europe (or anywhere in the West), but comes back East and returns to his old attitudes. if he could lock up his wife and sister, he would'.

Got me thinking...the Aussie Desi women have similar issues. We have the eastern man study and then stay in the west, he's happy to adopt a lot of things when he's single. But when it's time for marriage he'll fly back home for a bride or if he can't, will marry a local Desi. Then for the rest of his life when he enters his home the western values are left at the doorstep. Inside, he expects the eastern values- the food, language, clothing etc. The Eastern Man reverts back to this(often) and holds onto customs and expectations that don't even exist today in his 'motherland'.

Aussie Desi's always hope for a man who has both east and west values. i know I did. Many moons ago, the dream was to marry a desi who was modern and yet held onto important things like culture, language etc.. What I didn't know was if these things were important to me? Did I know myself well enough to desire and define these qualities? No, these were the hand me down values that we were taught, by our friends, family and the ever present Desi aunties who always seem to catch you in the wrong place and time. The First generation born didn't really develop a way to handle the Desi attitude, we just accepted that what the elders said to be right. Even though we didn't necessarily agree, we stayed quiet. There were a few people who left their families and moved onto to define a different lifestyle. Some parents were really strict, some liberal and others inbetween. Looking around now,  the inbetweens turned out the best. They hung out and did their religious obligations and then enjoyed the luxuries of the west but also got what they wanted. In the late 80s to early 90s, people began to swing against the 'imported husband' scenario and started looking around for local guys. Suddenly at functions you'd see aunties huddled in the corner of a room, pointing out guys and girls, giving a status update of their upcoming 'love marriage'. They would whisper the word 'love' quietly..I'm sure they found this to be outrageous, or perhaps, maybe they had wished they had the option but at the time, I knew a change was coming and it made me smile.It was then, that I knew I was going to join the masses in this radical movement of 1991. I wanted to move away from the lonely trips to Pakistan looking for a suitable 'life partner'. I'd watched so many people do repeat trips to Pakistan without success, I just didn't have the stamina to waive my Australian citizenship around looking for the 'doctor, lawyer. engineer'-in that order. Lastly, but happily, unlike the rest of my family, I wanted to break ranks and not marry my third uncle's son from his first marriage, who's wife’s sister is related to the cousin who owns a house next door to my aunt's house in Islamabad who is the sister of the mother of the guy who has a wheatish complexion and an accounting degree and is now working in Dubai... !