Arey yaar! That's not how you eat a mango!

Day 2 in India and already I have made leaps and bounds. I will preface this post by explaining the family I am staying with.. it’s less complicated than it sounds. My father’s cousin’s son’s in-laws. So related by marriage, but my father’s cousin’s son (I will vote this is a second cousin, because I don’t actually know the kinship rules.. omg worst anthropologist ever, right?) and his wife, Priyanka (Piku) are as close as family gets when you’re an Indian ex-pat. Especially since we’ve lived together in the States. And when you’re Indian, basically anyone who you’re friends with is family. Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, mangoes.

So last night, uncle was telling me how he would compete with his daughter, Piku over who could eat the most of the core of the mango, the gootley. This is a great pride among Indians. Eating a mango well shows a great deal of fortitude and dedication to the deliciousness of the mango. I am ashamed to say I SUCK at this. I spoon the easy part, give up, look remorsefully at the remaining mango that would require some heart and struggle and hand over the rest to moms or sis in defeat. I have never even attempted the core. So last night, at uncle’s challenge I sheepishly spooned the halves and didn’t even dare to look at the gootley in the eye. I had to forfeit. Well, today, I had my first meal in the house alone. Subhir chastised me for not eating enough (he is indeed trying to fatten me up even more than I already fattened up in the States) and brought me a mango. Oh god. You can’t say no to the mango. The problem is that mangoes in India are seven million times more delicious than anything you will find on the other side of the world. Scientific fact, look it up. So it is definitely a privilege and an opportunity to be fed mangoes daily. Sukhbeer leaves the room and I evaluate my orange and green opponent. I prepare a napkin for the showdown.

So, I didn’t crush the mango like a real Indian, I took a stab at eating the gootley, praying Sukhbeer wouldn’t walk in at a compromising moment. The core wasn’t even white when I was done.. it was still orange, as was my entire face. And now my nails will be mango-stained forever. No regrets.

More on actual Cotlow/field experience later, a lot of interesting stuff happened at the hospital today.

Also, side note for moms: I spoke in Hindi with Suhkbeer and he’s going to teach me to cook. Maybe I’ll be an expert-mango-eater when I get back, too.