Culture shock
By Nirvi Shah, Palm Beach Post Staff Writer
Thursday, May 8, 2003
I was in a movie theater on a Saturday afternoon like any other when suddenly my mother was chastising me from the screen, exposing to the world my inability to prepare a full Indian dinner.
It took a second to register that it was not my mother. It was the woman playing the mother of a British-born Indian girl in director Gurinder Chadha’s Bend It Like Beckham. Still, I have half a mind to contact Chadha to see whether my family served as covert consultants on the film.
In the British movie, Parminder Nagra plays soccer wunderkind Jess (short for Jasminder, but only her mother calls her that). Her Indian-born, British-immigrant parents find soccer an unsuitable pursuit for Jess, their college-bound younger daughter. Her mother doesn’t like that Jess’ legs are exposed for all the world to see. (Humiliating personal parallel: My parents hit the roof the first time I wore a sleeveless shirt. I was 16.) Jess’ parents insist that she needs to concentrate on going to college next year, perfecting those Indian meals and, ultimately, finding an Indian husband.
This fun film tackles a tender topic: the struggle of children of immigrant parents to balance cultural responsibility with Western mores. Although it has had little advertising stateside, last year’s British blockbuster is simmering now on this side of the pond. The movie is showing on 12 screens from Palm Beach to Indian River counties.
Like Nagra’s character, I haven’t abandoned my culture. I love it. But neither of us has been completely successful reconciling the societies in which we live with the smaller, much more conservative ones inside our parents’ homes. Our folks don’t mind that we’ve assimilated – they’ve had to, too – but they’re only willing for us to be so Western.
Director Chadha said she named her movie after British soccer star David Beckham’s nearly supernatural ability to nail goals, particularly penalty kicks, despite the obstacles. More subtly, the director is referring to the rules that Jess – and I – don’t break, but bend. With no malicious intent, we use a little deceit to do the things we want. In Jess’ case, she feigns illness, a summer job and a visit to a cousin’s in order to play soccer behind her parents’ backs. She is found out each time, but she keeps playing. Eventually her parents realize her dedication. Her father, who played cricket in Africa but was denied a spot on a British team because of his race, overcomes his bitterness and encourages his daughter to take a risk, even though she might be disappointed, too.
Dating dogma
The parallel in my family is dating, especially Americans (what does that make me?). Because it was frowned upon, I’ve disguised many of my dates as outings with friends. On one of these, an out-of-town, overnight trip, my older sister happened to become engaged – to her Indian, parent-approved boyfriend. Hoping to share the good news, my parents called my alibi. She was in New Orleans, her parents said, and, no, I wasn’t with her. When they tracked me down at my boyfriend’s, I received a diatribe of their disappointment in me.
They worry, as I do, about cultural differences chafing at any of my relationships with non-Indians and point out that, if I’m a little confused about my identity, what does that mean for my unborn, mixed-race kids? But they also saw how much I cared for my boyfriend, how important he was to me, and ultimately allowed me to visit him again.
They had to let me go a little, but it brought us closer.
Although Jess’ parents wonder aloud where they strayed in their daughter’s upbringing, as have mine, they conveniently forget the things we have sacrificed for them out of love and respect.
Neither of us wears much makeup or binding clothes, and we’re both happy to participate in cultural activities, but it’s just not Indian enough for our parents. I quit playing varsity volleyball in high school at my parents’ behest. (I was the furthest thing from gifted, but still.) The volleyball had to go so I could concentrate on my school work. But why the countless years of intense study and calculated extracurriculars, if real success means my life culminates in an Indian marriage and multiple childbirths? I sometimes like to point out that my parents were radical for their times, breaking tradition by trying to make a life for themselves thousands of miles away from everything familiar. Often when I mention this, my mother notes that she and my father were married when they came here. Oops. I’m giving her fuel.
Jess and I might look like complainers. But we know our folks give us a lot of liberties my Indian friends can’t boast. They’ve made a lot of sacrifices for me, even at long last accepting my white (now former) boyfriend.
Of course Chadha’s film is a happy one, ending as lightheartedly as I wish I could say some of my parental standoffs have. I’ll have to hope for a sequel to get Jess’ tips on better ways to tackle non-Indian dating, though, as she barely begins to address that and other taboo topics in her movie.
What’s comforting (and horrifying) me in the meantime is a snippet from the movie’s production notes, where Chadha spills behind-the-scenes details from the film’s wedding scene. “To get the extras right in the wedding scenes, I used a lot of my relatives,” she said, "especially my mother and aunts, as they all looked so authentic, and it had to look like everyone was having a good time.
"Directing them was a different matter. It was a nightmare. My mum kept interrupting me when I was giving orders to the crew, screaming my Indian nickname out in front of everyone. That was very embarrassing. I would say, ‘Mum, please!’ and she would start yelling in Punjabi and tell me so-and-so’s auntie is hidden from the camera or such-and-such auntie is too far in the background, no one will see her.
“It was all very amusing for everyone involved.”