Being a second-generation citizen from a Bangladeshi family and living in London, I have an abundant wealth of life experiences and combined cultural ways of living. With so much western influence being injected into my bloodstream, I do try my best to ensure I take time to appreciate and understand my ethnic cultural roots.
Spending good quality time with my parents is something that I am still struggling to get to grips with. By the time I get home most days, I just about have time to eat my dinner (though I don't really have my dinner these days), shower, probably squeeze in a little telly marathon or read a few pages of one of my several books and then go to sleep. On the odd occasions that I do come home a little earlier than normal, or I'm feeling exceptionally warming, I go downstairs and watch Bengali dramas or comedies on the telly with my parents. This is my way of connecting to them, through having conversations about the topics raised in the programmes as well as being reminded more of the Bengali culture.
One particular channel that my parents regularly watch is, Channel S, which is a Bangladeshi TV Sky channel which features a variety of programmes, from Factual and Comedy to much more. What I found interesting is the rise of Sylheti (the dialect of some Bengalis) dramas situated in London. This was effective in highlighting both the struggles and opportunistic paths, which can be a product of living in London as an ethnic minority citizen. One particular Sylheti drama that was very popular amongst the British Bengali community is, 'Hai Reh London Shanti Nai', which translates in the English language as 'OMG London, I can't get no peace'. This drama explores how the elder generation of Bengali families living in London, often face difficulty in disciplining their children in a city which pretty much allows everything as well as making ends meet, having migrated without any qualifications.
Aside from getting involved in being an active audience member for Bengali media, another way that I try and stick to my roots is consciously communicating to my parents and elder relatives in our mother tongue. I admit it is out of respect too, I mean most of the first generation of Bengali immigrants understand English but can only speak in broken English. Therefore, talking in English can bring an air of arrogance and snobbery in Bengali Households. For a Bengali girl that gets mistaken for being of Afro-Caribbean, Mixed or Latino heritage most of the time, it often surprises people that I can speak in fluent Bengali and take pride in it when I am doing so.
Slang is 50 or 55% of my vocabulary when I am having conversations with my friends, or young people who I assume will understand this particular type of lingo. Here's the interesting part, White, Black, Asian and Mixed communities use and appropriate slang - though most of it originated from Jamaica. Words like 'Bredrin' (friend), 'Gyalis (player) etc are used by a variety of young and elder people, so it is clear how even language is a pick 'n' mix for those that live in multi-cultural London.
What it comes down to is this .. there is no rule that states White or Asian people cannot talk in slang, no rule that says a Black woman cannot be dressed in a Sari or decorate her forehead with a Bindi, or a rule stating that a White man can't be seen in the local Caribbean food shop. That brings me on to my next point, with the vibrant energy of an array of ethnic cultures in London, we are spoilt for choice in what we view, consume and wear. Take me, for example, as a Muslim, I often struggle to find halal food at lunchtime or any other time to be quite fair (supermarkets such as Tesco and Sainsburys do not sell halal chicken - chicken being a huge part of my diet). Since there has been an upsurge of converts to Islam in the Afro-Caribbean community, I've found that the Caribbean food shops, otherwise known as 'the yard shop', serve halal food. So for me, I am a prime example of a person who is constantly being torn between a multiplicity of cultures that shape my current lifestyle.
Take Eid for example, for most Asian females, this day means straightening your hair so harshly that your hair is as thin as a straw and wearing traditional Asian dresses that make you look like dolls. Okay maybe I am exaggerating a bit too much, but seriously man, all that Shalwar Kameez and Sari business ain't me. I end up wearing English clothes - a nice top and a comfortable pair of designer jeans- last year as most years I stood out like a sore thumb, I was the only one in my road that was wearing English clothes, as opposed to Asian on Eid day. I guess I feel like I can break this norm since I live in a fairly liberal and 'anything goes' kind of country. If I was back home, the eerie silence and the looks of dismay and disapproval alone would turn me into an obedient robot. I dare not wear True Religion branded jeans and my Armani jumper in a village which will shun me at my sheer cheek!
Being a British Asian Muslim, living in London is a more of a blessing than a struggle. Yes, I do not get treated like royalty here, as I would do in Bangladesh, but I am lucky enough to be studying at university, something which I fear I would not have been able to do if I was living back home!
One particular channel that my parents regularly watch is, Channel S, which is a Bangladeshi TV Sky channel which features a variety of programmes, from Factual and Comedy to much more. What I found interesting is the rise of Sylheti (the dialect of some Bengalis) dramas situated in London. This was effective in highlighting both the struggles and opportunistic paths, which can be a product of living in London as an ethnic minority citizen. One particular Sylheti drama that was very popular amongst the British Bengali community is, 'Hai Reh London Shanti Nai', which translates in the English language as 'OMG London, I can't get no peace'. This drama explores how the elder generation of Bengali families living in London, often face difficulty in disciplining their children in a city which pretty much allows everything as well as making ends meet, having migrated without any qualifications.
Aside from getting involved in being an active audience member for Bengali media, another way that I try and stick to my roots is consciously communicating to my parents and elder relatives in our mother tongue. I admit it is out of respect too, I mean most of the first generation of Bengali immigrants understand English but can only speak in broken English. Therefore, talking in English can bring an air of arrogance and snobbery in Bengali Households. For a Bengali girl that gets mistaken for being of Afro-Caribbean, Mixed or Latino heritage most of the time, it often surprises people that I can speak in fluent Bengali and take pride in it when I am doing so.
Slang is 50 or 55% of my vocabulary when I am having conversations with my friends, or young people who I assume will understand this particular type of lingo. Here's the interesting part, White, Black, Asian and Mixed communities use and appropriate slang - though most of it originated from Jamaica. Words like 'Bredrin' (friend), 'Gyalis (player) etc are used by a variety of young and elder people, so it is clear how even language is a pick 'n' mix for those that live in multi-cultural London.
What it comes down to is this .. there is no rule that states White or Asian people cannot talk in slang, no rule that says a Black woman cannot be dressed in a Sari or decorate her forehead with a Bindi, or a rule stating that a White man can't be seen in the local Caribbean food shop. That brings me on to my next point, with the vibrant energy of an array of ethnic cultures in London, we are spoilt for choice in what we view, consume and wear. Take me, for example, as a Muslim, I often struggle to find halal food at lunchtime or any other time to be quite fair (supermarkets such as Tesco and Sainsburys do not sell halal chicken - chicken being a huge part of my diet). Since there has been an upsurge of converts to Islam in the Afro-Caribbean community, I've found that the Caribbean food shops, otherwise known as 'the yard shop', serve halal food. So for me, I am a prime example of a person who is constantly being torn between a multiplicity of cultures that shape my current lifestyle.
Take Eid for example, for most Asian females, this day means straightening your hair so harshly that your hair is as thin as a straw and wearing traditional Asian dresses that make you look like dolls. Okay maybe I am exaggerating a bit too much, but seriously man, all that Shalwar Kameez and Sari business ain't me. I end up wearing English clothes - a nice top and a comfortable pair of designer jeans- last year as most years I stood out like a sore thumb, I was the only one in my road that was wearing English clothes, as opposed to Asian on Eid day. I guess I feel like I can break this norm since I live in a fairly liberal and 'anything goes' kind of country. If I was back home, the eerie silence and the looks of dismay and disapproval alone would turn me into an obedient robot. I dare not wear True Religion branded jeans and my Armani jumper in a village which will shun me at my sheer cheek!
Being a British Asian Muslim, living in London is a more of a blessing than a struggle. Yes, I do not get treated like royalty here, as I would do in Bangladesh, but I am lucky enough to be studying at university, something which I fear I would not have been able to do if I was living back home!