The Namesake

by Jhumpa Lahiri

At dinner he is asked by his neighbor, a middle-aged woman named Pamela, at what age he moved to America from India. “I’m from Boston,” he says. It turns out Pamela is from Boston as well, but when he tells her the name of the suburb where his parents live Pamela shakes her head. “I’ve never heard of that.” She goes on, “I once had a girlfriend who went to India.” “Oh? Where did she go?” “I don’t know. All I remember is that she came back thin as a rail, and that I was horribly envious of her.” Pamela laughs. “But you must be lucky that way.” “What do you mean?” “I mean, you must never get sick.” “Actually, that’s not true,” he says, slightly annoyed. He looks over at Maxine, trying to catch her eye, but she’s speaking intently with her neighbor. “We get sick all the time. We have to get shots before we go. My parents devote the better part of a suitcase to medicine.” “But you’re Indian,” Pamela says, frowning. “I’d think the climate wouldn’t affect you, given your heritage.” “Pamela, Nick’s American,” Lydia says, leaning across the table, rescuing Gogol from the conversation. “He was born here.” She turns to him, and he sees from Lydia’s expression that after all these months, she herself isn’t sure. “Weren’t you?”

Questions on India i once went there, food is spicy and not getting sick