Most surreal cultural exchange
Nagaraj, my driver, is a pretty good guy--good stories, good jokes, likes Jackie Chan and Jet Li movies. I need to send him a copy of Ong Bak.
Not long after I arrived I got what is apparently the usual grilling: "Married? Kids?" Eyes widening. "No kids?" Tch-tch. I explained that Gary didn't want kids, I have a cat, we're happy.
A week and a half later, Nagaraj asked how long we'd been married. "Coming up on ten years," I said, rather proudly.
"You go to hospital?"
Huh? Flabbergasted by that non sequitur, I started to babble. "Well, no--I'm really pretty sturdy--I'm never really very sick. Sometimes I'll break something--"
"Most couples, they're married ten years no kids, they go to hospital to find out why."
Oh. No, I explained, a little more forcefully, Gary really, truly didn't want kids. If we'd been in India, where my marriage would have been arranged, no one would have picked Gary for me. He should have been a monk.
I think I was right.
Not long after I arrived I got what is apparently the usual grilling: "Married? Kids?" Eyes widening. "No kids?" Tch-tch. I explained that Gary didn't want kids, I have a cat, we're happy.
A week and a half later, Nagaraj asked how long we'd been married. "Coming up on ten years," I said, rather proudly.
"You go to hospital?"
Huh? Flabbergasted by that non sequitur, I started to babble. "Well, no--I'm really pretty sturdy--I'm never really very sick. Sometimes I'll break something--"
"Most couples, they're married ten years no kids, they go to hospital to find out why."
Oh. No, I explained, a little more forcefully, Gary really, truly didn't want kids. If we'd been in India, where my marriage would have been arranged, no one would have picked Gary for me. He should have been a monk.
I think I was right.