Sumeru: a first impression, and my honest opinion
Growing up, I’ve always struggled to find representation.
I’m a second-generation Indian diaspora, born to Australian parents, raised on Western media and Bollywood. I am dark-skinned, dark-haired, dark-eyed - the kind of Indian you don’t see in North Indian media, because fair is the beauty standard. I didn’t really have anything else to turn to, though, and I grew up despising how dark I was, to the point where I avoided the sun in the summertime in attempt to preserve my marginally fairer winter complexion.
For a long time also, to many of my peers growing up, I was the first impression they had of Indians, and I felt in this way, everything I did had to be perfect. Even still, I feel like anything representing India as a country and culture must be perfect, because, intentionally or not, whatever image of a place someone is first exposed to, that becomes the impression people have of the country and people as a whole, and it’s immensely difficult to change that.
So representation ultimately terrifies me. So much Western media has gotten it wrong. We were always painted as the caricature nerd-type character in Western media - I love Phineas and Ferb but look at Baljeet, or Raj from Big Bang Theory. And that was if Indians were lucky enough to be included: more often they were not, which, as a kid, is hard - you can’t really see yourself reflected in many characters on screen - someone who shares the same traits as you.
Now, what relevance does this have to Genshin Impact? A lot, actually.
You see, Sumeru is an interesting case. I recognise the exploration music as Indian - strains of the Sitar and flute, melodies and scales characteristic of Indian music that I grew up listening to, singing and playing. Don’t get me wrong, Indian music is not a monolith by any means, there’s huge variety wherever you turn, but I recognise it. The combat music, too. Honestly, whenever they break out the Sitar it’s heartwrenchingly familiar to me.
I also recognise the region names. They’re Sanskriti, like Gandharva Ville, Chinvat Ravine, Gandha Hill. The chapter title for this part of the Archon Quest is ‘Pages of Purana’. Even the names of the various jades you use to level up characters are derived from Sanskrit - but this is also due to Sanskriti words spanning the Dharmic religions i.e. Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and so on. Personally, I am Hindu, so of course Buddhist stuff is immediately recognisable and familiar to me as well, considering that Buddhism originated as an offshoot of Hinduism, and also began in India before it was spread down the Silk Road to take root in East Asia.
The problem is, I don’t recognise the names. I don’t recognise the clothes. I don’t recognise the skin colour of the NPC character models.
Now, you could make the argument that India is a very large place, and the names are very diverse. And they are, to an extent. But I know my culture, I know the kinds of names we have. I don’t recognise it. These names and clothing and whatever else are more Middle-Eastern. And therein lies the problem. To lump together various different regions and cultures and treat it as a monolith, isn’t that in itself breaking from the established tradition? Why couldn’t Sumeru have been dedicated to one region, whether that be India or the Middle East?
And before anyone decries me for being overly sensitive or unfair, I will ask this. Why is it that Inazuma, Liyue and Mondstadt get utmost respect in the handling of their respective regions and cultures? Each region is based on one country - that in itself is immediately recognisable. The names of the characters are appropriate and, again, immediately recognisable. And don’t come at me with nonsense like arguing Enkanomiya isn’t based on anywhere, that’s wilfully obtuse and you know it.
Another thing - the complexions characteristic of both the Middle East and India are dark. Dark, as in the last shades on the cosmetic line dark, as in hair almost-black dark, as in pupils only discernable in the sunlight dark. I want to see that reflected in the kinds of characters that populate Sumeru. The little girl in me that applied ‘Fair and Lovely’ masks in the hopes that she would become fairer is hurting for that kind of representation. I want to see people that look like me populate a region with music and names familiar to me. That, to me, would be the most healing of all.
Genshin Impact is enormous. It is probably the biggest game today. This kind of representation is going to have an enormous impact on how people perceive India and Indian culture, along with Middle Eastern culture, whether they may realise it or not. I desperately want my experience of Sumeru to be positive, but I am absolutely terrified of what I might find. I have been hurt by poor representation enough times before. I'm terrified of playing and being proven right again, and that saddens me, because I love this game.
Ultimately, what I want is for people to see India and Indian culture in its full beauty, and appreciate it the way I appreciate it. If you have time now, why not go watch a Bharatanatyam dancer or Sitar player perform, or visit a nearby temple or mosque and pay your respects, or participate in your local Diwali festival, since it’s coming up soon? After all, Indian culture isn’t just butter chicken, naan and stolen diamonds housed in the British Museum.
That was my first impression of Sumeru, as an Indian. I hope I’m proven wrong.
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Welcome to Africa Fashion! 🌍
Delight in the diverse designs, fabulous fashion, and traditional textiles by iconic designers and artists from the mid-twentieth century to today.
Plan your visit through October 22.
🎥 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g___h1aEsL8
🎟 https://bit.ly/AfricaFashionBkM
Africa Fashion is created by the V&A—touring the world. The lead sponsor is Bank of America with major support provided by ALÁRA. Special thanks to OkayAfrica / Okayplayer and Nataal, media sponsors for this exhibition.
Credits:
📍 Venue: Brooklyn Botanic Garden
🪡 Designer: Christie Brown
✨ Designer: Kilentar
🪡 Designer: Nana Brew-Hammond
✨ Designer: Papa Oppong
🪡 Designer: Res Ipsa
✨ Designer: Stai
🪡 Designer/ Stylist: Taiwo Aloba
🎶 Music: Eli Fola
✍️ Poetry: Nana Brew-Hammond
🧵 Stylist: Alesandra Thomas
🧵 Stylist: Derrieka Johnson
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Protect brown girls who don’t speak their parents’ language(s)
Protect brown girls who can understand their parents’ language but not reply, and protect brown girls who can’t understand their parents’ language at all.
Protect brown girls who have tried to learn their parents’ language as an adult; protect brown girls who have chosen not to, for any reason.
Protect brown girls who have been made fun of, or harassed, or interrogated for not knowing their parents’ language.
Protect brown girls who feel disconnected from their ethnicity, heritage, ancestors, culture because of the language barrier. And protect brown girls who have found it easier to navigate the world without knowing their parents’ language.
It doesn’t make you any less brown if you don’t speak your parents’ language(s). It doesn’t make your identity any less valid, or your claim to your heritage and ethnicity any weaker.
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a mosaic of baghdadi memories
take me back, take me way back
to the sweet-smelling kitchen
filled with my younger sister’s banter and my grandmother’s laughter
as she cooked the date-filled cookies
the clanking of pots and pans danced around the kitchen
take me back, take me way back
to the late summer nights filled with excitement
a house filled with my mother’s visiting family from Baghdad
the guest room crowded, lights off
all intently watching the soap opera on the box television
take me back, take me way back
to early mornings filled with the melodies of Fairuz from the television
her voice gliding through the air, bringing the room to life
birdsong almost harmonizes with the sounds of home
take me back, take me way back
to a house filled with commotion, anticipating guests
the smell of chai moving through the air
soon meeting the smell of musk and oud
pillows quickly straightened in the formal room
extravagant couches excited to finally serve their functional purpose
take me back, take me way back
to Ramadan nights right before iftar
medjool dates and iced water set on the table
house filled with conversation, all possessing thoughts in sync
awaiting and anticipating the sound of the athan
that battle with the fragrant spices yearning to escape from the kitchen
take me back, take me way back
to the balcony of my grandmother’s apartment,
fresh, hot bread awaiting my arrival from grade school
made by my grandmother’s diligent hands
hands used to the piping heat of the Baghdadi tandoor oven
take me back, take me way back
to the sweet-smelling cucumbers packed away in large purses
pita bread filled with puuk tightly wrapped in paper towels
for a short journey to the neighborhood playground
take me back, take me way back
to the memories of connecting with my cousins back in Baghdad
Skype and Yahoo Messenger bridging our connections
enable me to see the beauty through the distance caused by diaspora
take me back, take me way back
to the excitement felt on nights before Eid
beginning with the typical, dramatic endings of Ramadan soap operas
colorful clothes set aside by mothers for the eventful days ahead
date cookies cooked and cooled by my aunts
joyful nasheeds fill our house, reminiscent of home
take me back, take me way back
to the arrival of relatives through the passage of numerous gates and terminals
signs held, welcoming their arrival to a land with family far from their home
with suitcases boasting trinkets from home
and minds filled with stories yet to be told
memories to be made and recollected through numerous late-night conversations
on the balcony, with the occasional cool summer breeze balancing with the warmth of glass cups filled with chai
leaving me with pieces yet to be added to the sacred mosaic of memories of a distant homeland.
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