This is an excerpt from my book The Deity Diet which highlights some of the personal experiences my American husband and children had, integrating with the culture of India and with my Indian family.

In the culture of Northeastern India, a baby’s first birthday is cause for celebration. We prepare a big feast for relatives, friends, and neighbors, who all gather to wish the baby well.

When my daughter was about to turn a year old, however, I was living in the United States with my American husband. Not a single Indian relative was here, and his family was so scattered about, it would have been impractical to get everyone together in one place.

We were fairly young and didn’t have much money, but I wanted so badly to take my daughter home and show her off to my family that we did what any proud modern-day parents would do: we racked up our credit cards and took off for India, baby in tow. Here is a picture of the happy baby before our trip.

At that time, I had six younger brothers and sisters still living at home, plus my mother, grandmother (sadly, my grandfather had passed away), a multitude of aunts, uncles, and cousins, and tons of old friends and neighbors.

You can probably imagine what it was like to bring an eleven-month-old baby into this lot, where the youngest child was my brother, age seven, practically ancient in comparison to his new niece. My daughter was passed around from one person to another, kissed, doted on, fed all kinds of very un-baby-like treats that I pretended not to notice, and was thoroughly spoiled.

And, of course, there was the complicated business of planning The Birthday Feast, who to invite, what to serve, how much to cook, who would cook it; and “should-we-only-have-tea-or-have-tea-and-then-later-on-dinner,” what music to play, who will provide the blessing, and so on and so forth. You would think we were planning a wedding.

By the time my mother and grandmother were through, it was almost like a wedding, with over two hundred guests. Most people in India think nothing of this – the celebration is both a feast and a religious ceremony – but to my American husband it was all a little mind-boggling.

(to be continued tomorrow)