The concept of being an insider and outsider simultaneously is a concept that is quite prevalent in society; specifically we see this dichotomy play out in cultural contexts. One of my favorite books, The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri, talks about the dichotomy of young South Asians still familiar with Indian tradition but never truly feeling Indian or even American for that matter.
I sometimes feel this cultural conflict in my own life. I was born and raised in the US and visited Pakistan occasionally with my family. Though I grew up with the language, the food and the customs (such as traditional dress), I was also brought up in a diverse community where I had the opportunity to learn about other cultures. Consequently when I attended high school and college, I was surprised to see so many Pakistanis form their own cliques whereas I was plugged into a group of friends that included Indians, Chinese, Koreans and Latinos.
But at functions such as weddings and culture shows, I always felt like a bit of an outsider; although I could readily ingratiate myself in certain traditions, I very much felt like a fish out of water. I often found myself observing what other Pakistanis were doing and saying, almost as if an observer. Part of this had to do with the fact that I had such a diverse upbringing that I never felt particularly compelled to engage in Pakistani customs growing up. Hence, my knowledge of such customs is fairly general and not as detailed and as practiced as many of my peers.
Although I feel like an outsider when engaging in Pakistani traditions, I can also function as a insider as well. For example, at UCLA I have had many students ask me questions ranging from food to clothes to Pakistani politics and even to Aishwarya Rai. In this sense, people are dependent on my knowledge as an insider. There is an assumption that because I am Pakistani, I have a general if not expansive knowledge of my culture. Thus depending on the situation, I don't necessarily feel either like a cultural insider or outsider; in fact such labels don't particularly matter in such a tremendously diverse city such as Los Angeles where everyone is considered an Angeleno.
Moreover, music in Pakistani culture is considered an integral part of society. For example, many people are particularly fond of Bollywood music whereas the more conservative members of society may prefer nasheeds which are songs that with a religious theme. Though it has a day-to-day significance, music is fundamentally important in weddings.
Generally South Asian weddings are huge affairs composed of several events. The first of these is called a dholki. In this ceremony, female members of both sides of the family gather around the bride and gossip, sing songs and decorate their hands with henna. A great example of this is available at the following site: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ViaM0uDDY0
This video is taken from "Monsoon Wedding." Usually some families (if they are living in India or Pakistan) will hire a singer who will sing the wedding appropriate songs. In this case, the song sung has no instrumentation; all that is present is the singer's voice along with the female guests as well as the rhythmic clapping of the hands. (See translation of the song at the bottom). In this case, we see that the music, particularly the song reflects the process of arranged marriage, of finding an appropriate bride and finally settling on a bride who meets the appropriate criteria (i.e. being light-skinned which is considered beautiful in India). In many ways the song mocks the marriage process by pointing out how choosy men can be in picking the right wife as well as the nonchalance with which one can discard prospective brides. In this case, the music is the central aspect of the event; it is what binds all the women of the house together and garners even more excitement for the impending marriage ceremony. However, it is not the only important aspect to the event. The dholki is also a time to reconnect with old friends, to paint henna on one's hands (a very important ritual), to talk and to dance. If one was to isolate this event and perhaps present it as an show for tourists, the lose almost the sacred qualities of this song. As mentioned earlier the purpose of the song is to bring the women folk together, a sentiment that would be clearly lost upon tourists. Furthermore, there is a certain randomness in a dholki (as seen in the video) with people getting up to dance and others using money to circle around their heads (this guards off the evil eye) is what makes this particular song so intrinsically special, if not memorable.
Translation:
O women of the house
Decorate me with henna
Make these fair hands beautiful with henna
Madhorama asks "Which one shall we marry?"
Madhorma says "The Fat One!"
The Fat One needs a bed too large to sleep on
Let's drop her on the wayside! Right on!
We want another! Right on!
We are fancy gentlemen
Brimming with lust and desire
Life intoxicates us
Do I lie? No way!
Madhorama asks "Which one shall we marry?"
Madhorama says "The Fair One!"
The Fair One has the color of butter
She sleeps alone on the roof as her lover pines for her below
This is the one we shall have
This is the one we like
We will marry her
I sometimes feel this cultural conflict in my own life. I was born and raised in the US and visited Pakistan occasionally with my family. Though I grew up with the language, the food and the customs (such as traditional dress), I was also brought up in a diverse community where I had the opportunity to learn about other cultures. Consequently when I attended high school and college, I was surprised to see so many Pakistanis form their own cliques whereas I was plugged into a group of friends that included Indians, Chinese, Koreans and Latinos.
But at functions such as weddings and culture shows, I always felt like a bit of an outsider; although I could readily ingratiate myself in certain traditions, I very much felt like a fish out of water. I often found myself observing what other Pakistanis were doing and saying, almost as if an observer. Part of this had to do with the fact that I had such a diverse upbringing that I never felt particularly compelled to engage in Pakistani customs growing up. Hence, my knowledge of such customs is fairly general and not as detailed and as practiced as many of my peers.
Although I feel like an outsider when engaging in Pakistani traditions, I can also function as a insider as well. For example, at UCLA I have had many students ask me questions ranging from food to clothes to Pakistani politics and even to Aishwarya Rai. In this sense, people are dependent on my knowledge as an insider. There is an assumption that because I am Pakistani, I have a general if not expansive knowledge of my culture. Thus depending on the situation, I don't necessarily feel either like a cultural insider or outsider; in fact such labels don't particularly matter in such a tremendously diverse city such as Los Angeles where everyone is considered an Angeleno.
Moreover, music in Pakistani culture is considered an integral part of society. For example, many people are particularly fond of Bollywood music whereas the more conservative members of society may prefer nasheeds which are songs that with a religious theme. Though it has a day-to-day significance, music is fundamentally important in weddings.
Generally South Asian weddings are huge affairs composed of several events. The first of these is called a dholki. In this ceremony, female members of both sides of the family gather around the bride and gossip, sing songs and decorate their hands with henna. A great example of this is available at the following site: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ViaM0uDDY0
This video is taken from "Monsoon Wedding." Usually some families (if they are living in India or Pakistan) will hire a singer who will sing the wedding appropriate songs. In this case, the song sung has no instrumentation; all that is present is the singer's voice along with the female guests as well as the rhythmic clapping of the hands. (See translation of the song at the bottom). In this case, we see that the music, particularly the song reflects the process of arranged marriage, of finding an appropriate bride and finally settling on a bride who meets the appropriate criteria (i.e. being light-skinned which is considered beautiful in India). In many ways the song mocks the marriage process by pointing out how choosy men can be in picking the right wife as well as the nonchalance with which one can discard prospective brides. In this case, the music is the central aspect of the event; it is what binds all the women of the house together and garners even more excitement for the impending marriage ceremony. However, it is not the only important aspect to the event. The dholki is also a time to reconnect with old friends, to paint henna on one's hands (a very important ritual), to talk and to dance. If one was to isolate this event and perhaps present it as an show for tourists, the lose almost the sacred qualities of this song. As mentioned earlier the purpose of the song is to bring the women folk together, a sentiment that would be clearly lost upon tourists. Furthermore, there is a certain randomness in a dholki (as seen in the video) with people getting up to dance and others using money to circle around their heads (this guards off the evil eye) is what makes this particular song so intrinsically special, if not memorable.
Translation:
O women of the house
Decorate me with henna
Make these fair hands beautiful with henna
Madhorama asks "Which one shall we marry?"
Madhorma says "The Fat One!"
The Fat One needs a bed too large to sleep on
Let's drop her on the wayside! Right on!
We want another! Right on!
We are fancy gentlemen
Brimming with lust and desire
Life intoxicates us
Do I lie? No way!
Madhorama asks "Which one shall we marry?"
Madhorama says "The Fair One!"
The Fair One has the color of butter
She sleeps alone on the roof as her lover pines for her below
This is the one we shall have
This is the one we like
We will marry her
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