Ask The Marshmallow: Sick? Eat something.

Thank you all for your kind comments on the race - now it's been almost a week since the race, funnily enough, I don't really remember the running. I do, however, remember the rain! In fact, my shoes are STILL drying out(!).

Now, the next lot of posts will be my responses to your queries in the 'Ask the Marshmallow Anything' series. The first question is from Premee.

I'm a brown girl living in Canada, born to crazy immigrant parents, and I would love to hear more about your crazy brown parents and their quirks regarding self-made ideas of 'health' and 'weight.' For instance, whenever my brother or I got sick as a child, my mom would always ask, "Are you sure you're sick? Why don't you eat something."

It's been very interesting observing the behaviour with my Mum regarding the self-made ideas of health and weight. Since I'm the female out of the two children, my role was obviously to be pretty, and snatch a man - or a son in law. Being 'overweight' from a very young age, I was constantly told that I wouldn't be loved if I were fat.

Though one thing I definitely noticed was that when I was sick, my Mum would let me eat food. In fact, she would make my favourite foods. I almost enjoyed being sick because of the comfort that my favourite foods would bring with me. And now that I think about it, most of the foods weren't even junk food. They were hearty stews, fish curry, roasted chicken - and even simple pleasures that I couldn't normally have like toast with jam.

I know for a fact that I have very little knowledge of the concept of 'hunger'. This stems right back to when I was a baby - hospitalised at 3 weeks old for a vicious combination of pnuemonia and bronchitis, underweight. Because I was underweight, my parents force-fed me my bottle milk. When I rejected the milk, my Mum would pretty much shove the bottle teat into my mouth and pour the milk down my throat so that I drank all of the milk in the bottle.

It sounds torturous - but it's because I was a sick baby, and she was applying her self-made idea of health to me. As a result, I've almost completely lost my sense of hunger and 'fullness' that babies are born with. The thing is, I was sick because of a respiratory issue. Nothing to do with my weight or food intake. I was an underweight baby, but I was not underweight as a result of the illness. The force-feeding was my Mum's attempt at trying to make me 'un-sick'.

Fast forward eight years, where I had to go through traumatic, invasive eye surgery, and was stuck at home, by myself, for weeks on end. Because the surgery was on my eyes, I couldn't watch TV, I couldn't read books, I couldn't do colouring-in books, I couldn't play Lego, I couldn't go outside - I couldn't do jack-shit. My Mum's work wasn't far from home, so she would come home and make a nice lunch for me, always making me far more than I needed because I was recovering from the surgery. The food felt healing, and comforting, and I'm fairly certain that my exposure to comfort eating began because my Mum used food as a comfort for me when I was unwell or injured. And I kept eating even when I probably had had enough because I had lost my innate ability to distinguish when I had eaten enough, though the food continued to come because of the surgical wounds.

My brother - on the other hand - was overdue when he was born. He was a larger baby, and my parents didn't force-feed him when he was on the bottle. Even if he had two sips of milk and rejected the bottle, they didn't try to force it down him. As a result, he knows when he's done.

My Mum feels much more frustrated with him when he refuses food when he's sick. She pretty much begs him to eat when he's sick, but he doesn't budge. Even recently he's been sick and he doesn't want to eat food when my Mum pushes it on him, he'll just shrink away upstairs and get into bed. Meanwhile, my Mum is jumping up and down and tearing her hair out - as if not feeding him has taken away her ability to comfort him and make him feel better.

I know that in Indian culture, physical contact isn't really encouraged. What my Mum probably didn't realise when I was unwell was that I enjoyed it when she had to put her hand to my forehead to feel if I had a fever. It felt comforting, and possibly moreso than any food that she could've made for me. Sometimes, I would even say to my Mum, "I think I have a fever, can you feel my forehead?" She would touch my forehead and tell me off for trying to fool her into getting a day off school, but that's not what it was about.

I don't think my family know how to hug, how to pat you on the back or shoulder or on the head - and one thing that I have *always* been fascinated by is this concept of 'kissing it better'. That's something I haven't been exposed to in my own family, and whenever I watch the kids on TV getting scrapes and bruises, the 'kissing it better' intrigued me, and on a bad day, made me reeeeeeeeeeal jealous.

When we were sick was the only, solitary time where it didn't matter that we were fat, dark skinned, or whatever. We were allowed to eat, encouraged to eat.

It's a big insult to refuse food in an Indian household - and I know this whenever I go to see my grandparents.

Every Friday I go and buy some wholemeal and walnut bread for my grandmother, and after Body Balance, I drop it off to them. They ask me if I want to have some dinner, and I politely decline them. They always become cold, grumpy, and irritable - like I've slapped them in the face with a banana skin.

Whenever we've been sick, injured, or whatnot, our relatives come over not with flowers, but with food. When I was in hospital after my several surgeries, I didn't get flowers or soft toys. I got food.

In Bollywood movies, I constantly see a distinction to the characters who are 'authentic, traditional Indians' to the 'Non-resident Indians'; being the ones who have made other countries their home, like the United Kingdom, USA, Australia, South Africa, Kenya, and New Zealand. The Indians poke fun at the Non-Resident Indians for declining a third or fourth aloo paratha, or deciding to go out for a run.

The physical connectiveness thing is noted as well - and I can 'somewhat' quote a scene from Mujhse Dosti Karoge. (Please note that I'm going by memory, translated into English from the Indian dialogue, so the words may not be 100% accurate. That and I cannot be bothered going downstairs to sift through my mother's extensive bollywood DVD collection to quote it exactly.)

Non Resident Indian Boy	These bangles belong to my mother*. When she sees you wearing them, she'll understand. That meeeeeeeans... *leans in for a kiss*
Indian Girl	Noooooooo, after the wedding *gently pushes the boy away*
Non Resident Indian Boy	*exasperated* Man, this is the problem with Indian girls. EVERYTHING is 'after the wedding'
* Indian Girl laughs and shakes her head in a 'you wouldn't understand' manner.

*- I think...

When I'm not sick, I'm constantly told that I need to lose weight. Never for my health though, it was always for my appearance. It was never about how I'm going to die young, but rather, about how I was going to die lonely, and unhappy. I *had* to be thin and attractive if I wanted to catch a man, and to attain affection. For a long time, I believed them. And like scenes in the movie that I've mentioned above, I believed that EVERYTHING happens after the wedding. Life begins after you're married. And I wouldn't get married if I was fat, because noone wants to marry a fatty.

One thing that I've had to learn is that my family regard health and weight as two completely different concepts. Weight is a stain on your physical appearance which flaws your fundamental purpose - to snag a man and be makin' bebbies - while health? When it's under threat, food solves all.

I have issues with both of these notions. And sometimes I am made to wonder as to whether it's a personality clash, or whether it's a cultural barrier that is much bigger than myself and my family.

After all. I remember very clearly the mother in My Big Fat Greek Wedding throwing her hands up in the air and saying, "Eat something!", as though the food would magically sway her away from marrying a Non-Greek.

Seems as though it ain't just Indians!

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Uh... so I've babbled on a bit. I hope that was what were after, Premee! I'll answer the second part of your question in another post.

Until next time, you lovely people!