clash of civilizations
i tried to post while i was away on holidays in BC. really i did. and then I accidentally pressed command B and my webpage went back and lost most of the post. That wasn't good for an already lazy blogger. And although i make promises to blog more, it is difficult to summarize experiences of being harassed by police in the streets of Toronto, being illegally searched all the time for a full week and now trying to keep it together as we fundraise $250,000 for those who got arrested.
But I left for two weeks and was able to write a lot, read and re-focus my priorities. so i feel somewhat okay. still a bit intimidated at the task at hand. but hopeful.
so...do people want to hear about the G20 madness that consumed my life for most of this year? or shall we hear about me and the Norwegian penpal telling his parents that we're getting married?
perhaps the latter. I have had a draft of the G20 reflection, but think I will post it on a more respectable blog like rabble or something.
So a few months ago, there was a discussion that happened in the Beaches area of Toronto. After talking for around an hour, we decided that perhaps the easiest thing to do is close our eyes, grimace and get married. This for several reasons. First, my world of marriage-hating-emma-goldman-quoting polyamoury is severely disconnected from my family's world. They are pretty liberal as it gets - but when it comes to sexuality and gender, it is apparently impossible for them to accept co-habitation without marriage. I think my mom still thinks we just looking gazingly into each other eyes and perhaps steal a quick hand hold on our dates. Secondly, I am growing sick of lying to them. And there are plans to visit Pakistan, and me traveling as an unmarried woman with a white devil would not fly. Finally, we'll never be able to afford a cappuccino maker on our own. i hear sometimes you get one when you get married. Score!! We made a commitment to be as authentic and real to one another and our community, and if it means I sit there in front of an imam for a half hour, then perhaps it will give me more peace than what i deal with right now.
So this means that we will plan an event on our terms. We'll have an Islamic ceremony with no conversion. And then...throw the baddest, funnest party for all of our friends. It will be interesting how it will turn out since we are both known to mock weddings. When I told my friends, the most common reaction has been eyes and mouths wide open with a, "What? You??" When people try to congratulate me, I cut them off before they finish the word, hearing only, "Congra...oh...ok."
Although, as I have been telling more friends, they say there is something poignant about standing up and making promises to the person you love in front of other people. The promise in this case will be sitting down and signing a marriage contract with a negotiated dowry. Another score (for me)!
I told my family in April. First my mom when we travelled in Dubai. She was a bit ambivalent, but I think she was relieved that her 32 year old daughter who still claims to be a socialist revolutionary is no longer going to be a spinster or that G. wasn't merely a beard to hide my obvious lesbianism (I think she thought I was gay for most of my life because of the friends I brought over. and because of how i dressed. and how i talked about equality all the time). She now talks me losing weight, and how i should join jenny craig. It's annoying and offensive, but I guess that means she's excited, right?
The most annoying thing about telling my family is 1. the legitimacy i am receiving as a person and 2. this assumption that now that I am getting married, i can throw my feminist ideals down the tube and accept the reality of patriarchy. About #1 - I did not receive this much praise and congratulations on other, more meaningful events in my life. But suddenly, my life has more meaning! my grandmother calls me more and asks about the Norwegian Penpal. Like the four years of us dating wasn't real. And then, in regards to #2, my mom says things like: "Now that you're getting married, you'll have to take some cooking lessons." In all seriousness! A few weeks ago, we visited my grandmother and uncle near NYC, and they would request the G. to make sure I do things. They would refer to me in the third person when I was sitting right there. Examples:
I would be fuming with anger and making sarcastic remarks about the merging of identities and how we should move to Saudi Arabia where I would request permission for everything. Poor G. just sat there awkwardly. My family expects this to be a full out Pakistani wedding. G. is into it and my grandmother wants to get him a jodhpuri suit. I think he wants to ride in on a horse.
G. wanted to wait and tell his family in BC in person when we went for two weeks. I told him a phone call might be good enough, but I guess it was a nice sentiment. We first hit his dad's place in Victoria.
I should preface this next part by saying that...it's sometimes difficult doing the whole inter-racial thing. The inherent experiences of whiteness and racism sometimes clash in unexpected ways. small comments. assumptions. taking things for granted. g. and i talk about it a lot, he takes it seriously, we ask "What would Fanon do?" But you don't really see the clash until you meet the white boyfriends family.
G.'s Dad lives in a pretty nice house in Victoria with his second wife and their step-son, who is this 24 year old hippie-type dude who builds yurts in the back yard. They also have a huge, water-front property on Galeano Island. G's dad is this quirky jazz musician and him and his partner travel all over the world.
G. told him when we first got there and they congratulated us for few mins. But then proceeded to ignore us for the rest of the night. They didn't ask me or him any questions about our lives, what I do, etc. Instead, they raved on about G.'s step-brother buying property on Galeano Island. How it was only $208,000 and how they were going to build a yurt for a meditation centre. It was a bit awkward.
I asked Geordie how one, who is 24 and sells organic vegetables from his gardens and the partner who sells organic cider, manages to save enough for $208,000. And the answer: rich parents! riiight.
During the dinner, G.'s dad made a toast like this: "I think we should make a toast. There is, of course, the announcement about the upcoming nuptials. But to the young couple buying their first piece of property on Galeano Island." I almost choked up my tasteless, organic artichoke heart!
I saw G. slipping into a dark place when one goes when your parent disappoints you. And this is the first basic lie about marriage. We see in Hollywood how sons tell their fathers about marriage, and we expect an embrace and a heart to heart conversation, advice about the honeymoon night, etc. I think he was hoping for some alone time over drinks where he could have a bonding moment. This was not the case. I'm sorry, the step-mother did mention it once. she said:
"Well Sharmeen, now that you and G. are getting married, I'm going to be excited to eat your cooking! I really love Indian food!"
I didn't know what to say. And then it dawned on me: this outright preference over private property, orientalist comments about my so-called Indian cooking, building yurts for meditation centres, the ability to buy property with no real steady income, the lack of ability to use spices in cooking - it was like a parody. How whiteness is seen as the superior race, I will never figure out.
After dinner, we sat around looking at maps of the newly bought property. And I wanted to yell, "I know that private property is super awesome, but another form of property is happening with this marriage! you should be happy about that as well!" Instead his father just asked me, "So, are you planning on buying any property in the near future? As I say: buy low and sell high!"
Man, all this time, I have been doing the opposite of that!
By that time, I went to bed and sat staring in bed for a half hour wondering what had just happened. I know marriage is a joke, but now I know that the real worth in some people's eyes is property acquisition. I told G. after that instead of saying we were getting married, he should have told them he was buying me. Perhaps they would feign more excitement.
We left after two days and sped to Courtenay where G.'s mom lives. I was nervous given the tension two years ago when she told G. that Islam is inherently violent and she feared that my family would kill him in an honour killing rage. After we arrived at her 6.5 acre property with a personal pool (!!), we went for dinner and told her. She actually yelped in surprise and then told the waitress that I was her daughter. The waitress looked at her and then me with a quizzical look. but it went well and thankfully, no weird comments or questions about Pakistani cooking. Or our mysterious ways of doing things.
So, it's all out in the open. If you have tips of how to organize this event without losing your soul, please pass it on. I am hoping to compromise a bit, but would rather not throw all my principles out the window.
But I left for two weeks and was able to write a lot, read and re-focus my priorities. so i feel somewhat okay. still a bit intimidated at the task at hand. but hopeful.
so...do people want to hear about the G20 madness that consumed my life for most of this year? or shall we hear about me and the Norwegian penpal telling his parents that we're getting married?
perhaps the latter. I have had a draft of the G20 reflection, but think I will post it on a more respectable blog like rabble or something.
So a few months ago, there was a discussion that happened in the Beaches area of Toronto. After talking for around an hour, we decided that perhaps the easiest thing to do is close our eyes, grimace and get married. This for several reasons. First, my world of marriage-hating-emma-goldman-quoting polyamoury is severely disconnected from my family's world. They are pretty liberal as it gets - but when it comes to sexuality and gender, it is apparently impossible for them to accept co-habitation without marriage. I think my mom still thinks we just looking gazingly into each other eyes and perhaps steal a quick hand hold on our dates. Secondly, I am growing sick of lying to them. And there are plans to visit Pakistan, and me traveling as an unmarried woman with a white devil would not fly. Finally, we'll never be able to afford a cappuccino maker on our own. i hear sometimes you get one when you get married. Score!! We made a commitment to be as authentic and real to one another and our community, and if it means I sit there in front of an imam for a half hour, then perhaps it will give me more peace than what i deal with right now.
So this means that we will plan an event on our terms. We'll have an Islamic ceremony with no conversion. And then...throw the baddest, funnest party for all of our friends. It will be interesting how it will turn out since we are both known to mock weddings. When I told my friends, the most common reaction has been eyes and mouths wide open with a, "What? You??" When people try to congratulate me, I cut them off before they finish the word, hearing only, "Congra...oh...ok."
Although, as I have been telling more friends, they say there is something poignant about standing up and making promises to the person you love in front of other people. The promise in this case will be sitting down and signing a marriage contract with a negotiated dowry. Another score (for me)!
I told my family in April. First my mom when we travelled in Dubai. She was a bit ambivalent, but I think she was relieved that her 32 year old daughter who still claims to be a socialist revolutionary is no longer going to be a spinster or that G. wasn't merely a beard to hide my obvious lesbianism (I think she thought I was gay for most of my life because of the friends I brought over. and because of how i dressed. and how i talked about equality all the time). She now talks me losing weight, and how i should join jenny craig. It's annoying and offensive, but I guess that means she's excited, right?
The most annoying thing about telling my family is 1. the legitimacy i am receiving as a person and 2. this assumption that now that I am getting married, i can throw my feminist ideals down the tube and accept the reality of patriarchy. About #1 - I did not receive this much praise and congratulations on other, more meaningful events in my life. But suddenly, my life has more meaning! my grandmother calls me more and asks about the Norwegian Penpal. Like the four years of us dating wasn't real. And then, in regards to #2, my mom says things like: "Now that you're getting married, you'll have to take some cooking lessons." In all seriousness! A few weeks ago, we visited my grandmother and uncle near NYC, and they would request the G. to make sure I do things. They would refer to me in the third person when I was sitting right there. Examples:
- "Make sure you get Sharmeen to check the brake fluid oil." Even though G. doesn't even have a drivers license!
- "Make sure Sharmeen does her PhD." although this was refuted by my grandmother with a, "Sharmeen can't just pick up and move and do her PhD when she's married!" At least there's a solid excuse if people ask if I'll do my PhD. "Oh, I was going to, but then I got married! Oh well!"
- "Make sure Sharmeen no longer goes to Cuba. It is too dangerous there."
I would be fuming with anger and making sarcastic remarks about the merging of identities and how we should move to Saudi Arabia where I would request permission for everything. Poor G. just sat there awkwardly. My family expects this to be a full out Pakistani wedding. G. is into it and my grandmother wants to get him a jodhpuri suit. I think he wants to ride in on a horse.
G. wanted to wait and tell his family in BC in person when we went for two weeks. I told him a phone call might be good enough, but I guess it was a nice sentiment. We first hit his dad's place in Victoria.
I should preface this next part by saying that...it's sometimes difficult doing the whole inter-racial thing. The inherent experiences of whiteness and racism sometimes clash in unexpected ways. small comments. assumptions. taking things for granted. g. and i talk about it a lot, he takes it seriously, we ask "What would Fanon do?" But you don't really see the clash until you meet the white boyfriends family.
G.'s Dad lives in a pretty nice house in Victoria with his second wife and their step-son, who is this 24 year old hippie-type dude who builds yurts in the back yard. They also have a huge, water-front property on Galeano Island. G's dad is this quirky jazz musician and him and his partner travel all over the world.
G. told him when we first got there and they congratulated us for few mins. But then proceeded to ignore us for the rest of the night. They didn't ask me or him any questions about our lives, what I do, etc. Instead, they raved on about G.'s step-brother buying property on Galeano Island. How it was only $208,000 and how they were going to build a yurt for a meditation centre. It was a bit awkward.
I asked Geordie how one, who is 24 and sells organic vegetables from his gardens and the partner who sells organic cider, manages to save enough for $208,000. And the answer: rich parents! riiight.
During the dinner, G.'s dad made a toast like this: "I think we should make a toast. There is, of course, the announcement about the upcoming nuptials. But to the young couple buying their first piece of property on Galeano Island." I almost choked up my tasteless, organic artichoke heart!
I saw G. slipping into a dark place when one goes when your parent disappoints you. And this is the first basic lie about marriage. We see in Hollywood how sons tell their fathers about marriage, and we expect an embrace and a heart to heart conversation, advice about the honeymoon night, etc. I think he was hoping for some alone time over drinks where he could have a bonding moment. This was not the case. I'm sorry, the step-mother did mention it once. she said:
"Well Sharmeen, now that you and G. are getting married, I'm going to be excited to eat your cooking! I really love Indian food!"
I didn't know what to say. And then it dawned on me: this outright preference over private property, orientalist comments about my so-called Indian cooking, building yurts for meditation centres, the ability to buy property with no real steady income, the lack of ability to use spices in cooking - it was like a parody. How whiteness is seen as the superior race, I will never figure out.
After dinner, we sat around looking at maps of the newly bought property. And I wanted to yell, "I know that private property is super awesome, but another form of property is happening with this marriage! you should be happy about that as well!" Instead his father just asked me, "So, are you planning on buying any property in the near future? As I say: buy low and sell high!"
Man, all this time, I have been doing the opposite of that!
By that time, I went to bed and sat staring in bed for a half hour wondering what had just happened. I know marriage is a joke, but now I know that the real worth in some people's eyes is property acquisition. I told G. after that instead of saying we were getting married, he should have told them he was buying me. Perhaps they would feign more excitement.
We left after two days and sped to Courtenay where G.'s mom lives. I was nervous given the tension two years ago when she told G. that Islam is inherently violent and she feared that my family would kill him in an honour killing rage. After we arrived at her 6.5 acre property with a personal pool (!!), we went for dinner and told her. She actually yelped in surprise and then told the waitress that I was her daughter. The waitress looked at her and then me with a quizzical look. but it went well and thankfully, no weird comments or questions about Pakistani cooking. Or our mysterious ways of doing things.
So, it's all out in the open. If you have tips of how to organize this event without losing your soul, please pass it on. I am hoping to compromise a bit, but would rather not throw all my principles out the window.