Indian people make me laugh. Not in a racist way…that would just be weird because I am Indian, but in the way calls for observation and comment.We’re a funny group of people, and I think it’s interesting to see how Indian people have adjusted themselves into American society. I wrote this for my English class in uni. Enjoy!
Indians: More Complicated than Thought
Three types of Indian people grace the world with their presence: The Fob, The Coconut, and The Bigga. The fob is an amazing species of Indian that takes the term “fresh off the boat” to a literal sense. The coconut tries very clumsily to assimilate into American culture by acting white, but makes a fool of himself in the process. The bigga is an Indian masquerading in “bling” as a black person, but only deceiving himself and appearing idiotic to others. Three diverse types of Indians all hailing from the same origin give the impression that looks truly are misleading.
The Fob is the most native type of Indian one can encounter. The fob has no sense of language, style, or body odors. The fob tries speaking with Native Americans and very foolishly thinks that the American will understand him. He replaces his “W” with “V”, making a “waterslide” into a “vaterslide”, or better yet, a “van” into a “wan”. Their sentence structure would make any English teacher want to retire immediately; a simple sentence becomes the most complicated issue. “I am going grocery shopping” can turn into “shopping for the wegetables is where I am deciding to going today.” The fob also has no sense of sense of style; he does not know what to wear and when to wear it. He may try pairing a too-tight-too-small shirt with a pair of high waters and black shiny boots to a formal dance, but then may turn around and wear nice slacks and a dress shirt to school. Sadly though, his fashion faux pas is invisible to him, he walks around the streets smirking to himself thinking his clothing is “hip”, but does not understand why everyone is falling to the ground laughing as he passes by. One more thing the fob refuses to acknowledge is his offensive body odor. It is true that people like to smell nice, but the fob’s version of nice is an intoxicating aroma of curry and sweat. This odor is further enhanced by the fob’s unawareness of an amazing modern miracle; deodorant. The fob does not believe in deodorant, he assumes that just because he has showered for the week, he won’t smell; oh is he wrong. There is nothing worse than a smelly fob. The fob is a mind-boggling and bold species that will walk around talking, dressing, and smelling as he pleases, no matter how many people he might and surely will insult and disgust.
The coconut is the next genus to look out for; he is a tricky one to find. His color may be that of an Indian, but his language, style, and overall appearance hopelessly try to deceive one into thinking he is white. The coconut takes on the language of a white person. He tries to impress others with his awkward use of typical “white words” such as “bro” and “gnarly”, however, he uses them in completely the wrong tense exposing himself as an Indian. Also, the coconut successfully attempts to forget his language and culture by mispronouncing his own language to make himself appear more American. Another thing the coconut is terrific at is his style. The coconut does not mix-and-match his own clothing like the fob, but instead mindlessly buys clothes from Abercrombie, American Eagle, and Hollister to further suppress his true identity; the coconut trades in his culture for a few pairs of expensive jeans and colorful polo shirts. The coconut’s overall appearance is clean cut and very metro sexual. The coconut finds appearance to be a very serious matter; he spends more time in the bathroom than a girl. Gel, hair mouse, and aftershave, all things that the fob would never even dream of, contribute to the nice, and even pretty overall appearance of the coconut. The coconut strives to be like the white people in this sense, smelling nice and looking good, but fails because some things are still out of his reach. The coconut tries to assimilate into American culture by changing everything, from his appearance to his style, but never quite reaches the level of the white people.
The bigga is the last type of Indian left to explore; his language, style, and attitude are what isolate and humiliate him. The bigga tries to use language only found in rap videos in his daily life; “whas up homie” and “youz my dawg” are common phrases heard among the bigga and his “playas”. These phrases, when used in the wrong situation, can and will amount to massive problems; the bigga has no sense of what he is saying, he merely tries to act like a black person so he may become more popular. What the bigga does not realize, is that he comes across as a brainless git because everyone around him knows he is Indian and he knows he is Indian, but his charade of trying to act black continues through his language. Another way the bigga belittles and exposes himself as an Indian is through his clothing style. The bigga struggles to walk in his three sizes too big shorts and “white tees”. He believes that the larger his clothing, the more black and “gangsta” he looks. To be black, the bigga assumes some “bling” is necessary; normally Indians sport gold chains and bracelets, but the bigga rejects these items and favors silver and platinum chains and bracelets. These things give the impression that “bling” is a crucial element The bigga fails to see the reality of the situation, white people mock him for his “penguin strut”, Indian people refuse to acknowledge his existence, and black people want to hurt him for disrespecting their culture of big clothing and large “bling”. All in all, the bigga fails completely in all ways possible in his endeavor to become black; if he tries too hard though, the bigga may just find himself hanging upside down from a ten-story building while the real “gangstas” laugh nearby while trying to pull up their own shorts and hide their own “penguin strut”.
The fob, coconut, and bigga all try in their own ways to fit into society, but all fail miserably when trying to be something they are not. The fob, boldest of all, keeps his own identity but also tries to absorb into American society, but is rejected because the body odor he exhumes is enough to absorb all the technological jobs around him. The coconut shamelessly gives up his own culture in hopes of retaining a bit of American culture, but is cast off because his jeans are not the right shade of blue, and his word choice “so twenty minutes ago”. Lastly, the bigga is abandoned by his “black brothas” because his “bling” and language aren’t ghetto enough, and he makes the other “playas” look like they have “no game”. In short, Indians have no one category they belong to, because no matter who they try to act like, look like, and smell like, they can always live with the faith that they will be rejected.