Chennai was hot and muggy in late January 2003, the month I met my future in-laws. Daniel and I had been engaged for over a year by that time.
I had been nervous about meeting the mother and father of my soon-to-be husband. Worried about the language and cultural differences.
I really didn’t know what they would think about this blonde girl from California marrying their son.
I soon realized I had nothing to worry about. They were gracious and hospitable, insisting that I sleep in the one room of their home that had an air conditioner. Dan’s mom made all his favorite dishes – dal fry with basmati rice and fish fried with a special mixture of spices I’ve never been able to recreate.
And chai. We drank lots of chai.
Daniel’s father had a request that took me by surprise. I didn’t catch what he was asking at first, but then I realized, he was hoping Daniel and I would name our first son “Emmanuel.”
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