From Confused to Confident

By Michelle Nathan

Another Type of ABCD

American Born Confused Desi.
American Born Confident Desi.
American Born CATHOLIC Desi.

Yup, that’s me. All of the above. And, no, I did not convert—and neither did my parents! And, no, my father is not American. And, no, I was not adopted.

But, I didn’t know that there were Catholics in India…But, you seem so Indian…But, your name doesn’t sound Indian…So, really, what is your real Indian name?

So, how exactly am I a full-blooded Indian Catholic who has been preceded by generation upon generation of Indian Catholics? Like many other present-day South Asian Christians, my ancestors most likely converted to Christianity from a more prevalent South Asian religion. In my case, my ancestors converted from Hinduism.

Furthermore, Christians didn’t spring up in South Asia in one full sweep. Rather, South Asian natives converted to Christianity over a period of centuries. Historians say that St. Thomas, one of Jesus’s 12 disciples, was the first to introduce Christianity to India in 52 AD by arriving on India’s west coast and traveling throughout South India. Many other West Asian and European Christian missionaries followed in St. Thomas’s footsteps, mainly focusing their evangelization and philanthropy efforts in the regions of Goa, Bombay, Kerala, Tamil Nadu and Sri Lanka.

From a “triple ABCD—Confused, Confident and Catholic” perspective, it can be pretty difficult to straddle the cultural perplexities of being Indian, American and Catholic. I have learned to embrace the traditions of my Tamilian Catholic heritage, yet I have been enamored with the traditions of my South Asian friends and am now accustomed to feasting on Onam (harvest festival celebrated in the state of Kerala), eating langar (vegetarian food served after a Sikh service at the gurdwara, the Sikh place of worship), dancing the night away during Navratri (Hindu festival of worship and dance) or fasting on at least one day during Ramadan (Muslim period of fasting).

As I think about it, it seems as though I’ve been more comfortable in the presence of non-Christian South Asians, even from an early age. And as I reflect on my childhood and my current life, I don’t think that my South Asian friends think of me any differently, even though I do actively practice a different, more westernized religion.

But this childhood and now current lifestyle came naturally to me. Growing up in a mainly Caucasian neighborhood, parish and school, I tended to notice other South Asian kids because we stood out with our black hair, brown skin, big brown eyes and the slight smell of masala on our coats. And as I got to know these other South Asian kids better, I realized that I had a lot in common with them—immigrant parents who often raised us under conservative regulations (i.e. “No dating until you’re 21!”, “Focus on your studies, not boyfriends!”, “Why don’t you become/marry an engineer or doctor?”).

I also remember that sense of comfort that I felt when entering their homes because they felt like mine—wafts of Indian cooking, American English tinged with Malayalee, Delhiite or Gujurati accents and the expected use of the titles ‘Auntie’ or ‘Uncle.’

Even though I meshed well with my South Asian friends, there were still differences. During the Christmas season, many of my South Asian friends would be astonished at the sight of our extravagant Christmas tree, the fact that our Christmas lights came out during Christmas and not during Diwali and that we did what the “American people” did during Christmas—attend church, sing carols and exchange presents with family and friends.

During the summers I attended Indian summer camp at the local Hindu temple because my parents thought it would be a good way to learn about useful Indian values and culture. I loved everything that we did there—singing bhajans, chanting shlokas in Sanskrit, going to the pool and performing bharatanatyam or Indian folk dance. But there were times of confusion. I remember when a Hindu priest or other elder would ask for my name. They’d look at me quizzically when I said “Michelle” and automatically assumed that my name was “Usha” or “Nisha” but was just pronouncing it incoherently or with an American accent. I also remember what would happen during the last activity of the day, aarti (a Hindu blessing ritual). The other campers would run upstairs to the temple, and my brother, sister and I would stay downstairs in the computer room because we really didn’t need to perform aarti, nor did we know how. The kids would often question us, wondering if we were just trying to skip a religious service to play computer games. But when we gave them the real story, that we were Catholic, they would also look at us quizzically, not really understanding what that made us.

Given my American name and my comfort with Christian culture, my South Asian friends could have and probably did assume that I would automatically fit in with Americans but au contraire.

At church and Sunday school, there was no question among my fellow classmates or parishioners that I had been raised in a knowledgeable, devout Catholic family. There, I could communicate comfortably with others because we held the same religious beliefs and practices. But, still, as an Indian-American child, I could feel the differences because I so desperately wanted to just fit in. I was vehemently embarrassed that my mother chose to wear brightly colored saris or salwar kameezes to mass when the other women wore dresses or pants and that my family always managed to show up five minutes late for mass (blame it on our IST—Indian Standard Time!). I also felt uncomfortable when I couldn’t say that I had an aunt or uncle that lived in the same town or even the same country, because almost all of them lived in India! And, as an adolescent trying to make friends in the youth group, I couldn’t talk freely about my dating experiences because in my household, there was no dating until I was finished with my studies.

Even though there was some confusion in either my South Asian or Catholic circles, there seemed to be more confusion when interacting with the American mainstream crowd. As we tend to judge books by their covers, I am judged by my typical South Asian appearance. I’m sure my teachers were surprised that I celebrated major holidays such as Easter and Christmas at home, but I can better recollect the more recent confusion in my time as a young working professional. There are still reactions of surprise when I share my religious knowledge of Easter, Lent and Christmas. Some assume that when I admit that I go to a church that I go to a “different” church or that I’m not a real Roman Catholic. But the truth is that I am and have been an active, practicing Catholic who attends mass every Sunday, goes to confession and knows and practices every typical Catholic prayer and tradition.

It may seem as though this mish-mash of confusing experiences would result in hopeless confusion, but the reality is that I love being Catholic and Indian. On one hand, I can communicate with Christian Americans about the Lord and basic Christian values, and on the other hand, I can joke around with my South Asian friends in exaggerated South Asian accents and reminisce about the humorous moments of our conservative Desi childhood experiences.

But if there was ever any confusion about my identity as a child, it may not amount to the confusion that I face now as I decide who I want to and should marry. Aunties and uncles eagerly want to set me up with dashing young Desi men but when I admit that I would like to marry a Catholic Desi, they quietly say “Oh…” I can empathize with their reactions because I know what they know—that there really aren’t very many Catholic Desi men out there. And when I factor in my parents’ minimum requirements and qualifications, that meager number of eligible men drops even lower…sigh.

But no matter who I marry, I will still LOVE being Indian and Catholic and will want to continue to embrace that identity and help my children embrace it too because, as we all know, once an ABCD, always an ABCD.

Michelle Nathan is enjoying life as a young working business professional in her hometown of Washington, DC. One of her many aspirations in life is to help more people understand the role of Catholicism in South Asia.

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