MANASI KOGEKAR
Growing up in an Indian family in Australia, I was always aware of what it felt like to be different to my peers.
I grew up on Sydney’s North Shore, as my parents had migrated from the state of Maharashtra in India in 1982 as a young married couple, and settled in Lindfield - a predominantly Anglo-Australian area at the time.
While I was in primary school, I became aware of the fact that people weren’t used to some aspects of my life - from the food I brought for lunch, to the accent my parents had and the language they spoke at home (Marathi).
As a child, I longed to fit in and often resented my Indian heritage for setting me apart from other people.
As I got older and went to high school, I realised that my Indian upbringing was influencing how I thought and behaved. I took on the more conservative values which my parents had brought with them from India (around drinking, school work, and dating), and despite having quite a multicultural group of friends, my different values were a constant reminder that I didn’t entirely quite fit in; I didn’t have the same upbringing as white Australians and they couldn’t always understand me.
Being Australian and being lucky enough to be able to travel to India and other countries many times gave me the desire to work overseas. I had no expectations about where I would go, but fate led me to Kathmandu, Nepal. Initially, I thought that because I was already familiar with South Asian culture, I would fit in quite easily.
However, I was mistaken.
The local people in Nepal didn’t really understand how I could look Nepali, yet couldn’t speak the language or understand what they were saying. I also noticed that people used to stare at me, especially when I was with my foreigner friends or drinking alcohol (since Nepali girls don’t usually go out drinking). Unlike other foreigners who probably don’t even notice these things - I could understand why Nepali people thought this behaviour was strange, because of my own upbringing.
I also began to feel the frustrations that many foreigners do due to differences in working styles and social norms between Nepal and Australia. I realised that being of Indian origin didn’t help me in these aspects of my life in Kathmandu. At the end of the day, I was reminded that I was still a foreigner. During these first few months, I felt confused, I felt caught between the expectations and norms of two cultures and unable to reconcile them.
As I started learning Nepali over the next few months, things began to change. It was easy for me to pick up the language as some of the words and pronunciation were the same as my parents’ language, Marathi.
“OVER THE LAST THREE YEARS OF LIVING IN NEPAL, I’VE LEARNT TO EMBRACE THE FLEXIBILITY MY IDENTITY GIVES ME…”
I noticed that my ability to communicate with local people increased, and this quickly opened up many new doors. For example, during my trek to Everest Base Camp and Gokyo Lakes, I was invited to sit and chat with the Nepali guides and porters at the tea houses due to my appearance (looking like a Nepali person) and ability to socialise in Nepali.
Spending time with the guides gave me more insight into their lives. I learnt about which foreign nationalities they liked most and least, the difficulties they experienced, and their different cultural backgrounds (such as Tamang and Sherpa). For me, connecting with the guides on this level felt like a more authentic and genuine experience, unlike the usual guide-client relationship. Experiences like this made me start to see the advantages of looking similar to local people in Nepal, and not standing out as being from a minority - as I did in Australia.
Over the last three years of living in Nepal, I’ve learnt to embrace the flexibility my identity gives me in terms of adapting to different cultures and contexts. I no longer try to fit my Australian/Indian identity into a box, or see it as a burden - as I did when I was younger.
Now, as I plan for my return to Australia, I look forward to introducing my Nepali husband to my dual Indian-Australian lifestyle and culture back home (he is already getting prepared by eating Vegemite here in Kathmandu!). I also look forward to retaining my links to Nepal by integrating more with the Nepalese community in Australia, and introducing my family and friends to Nepali cuisine.
WHAT WE EAT IS MEANINGFUL
This yellow dal recipe has been handed down through the maternal side of my family for many generations. It is traditionally made on a daily basis in Maharashtrian communities in India and accompanied with pickle, rice, vegetables and roti. I make this recipe at least once a week and it’s always a huge hit with my husband!
DISH OF OUR HERITAGE
MAHARASHTRIAN YELLOW DAL