Desi Manifesto Blog: The Forum for South Asian American Men

Raja’s smiling because Pakistani food is naturally high in fiber.
Apparently his friend’s Wisconsin cuisine is not.

[Blogger: S.I.] The name “Raja Musharaff” smacks of trite, headline-glossing, Disney’s “Alladin”-watching, colonial-master-bossing lazy Hollywood fluff. After watching a couple episodes and reading the pilot of the CW’s “Aliens in America,” however, I now rest assured that the terror stops there. Or at least takes a cig break.

I can confirm for you that the potential disaster of a cultural hodgepodge these white writers (assumption, but I’d bet money) threatened to put together is not only enjoyable at times, but is also tonally uplifting and not a complete cultural massacre. Perhaps more like a back alley stabbing. But with Hollywood nowadays, that’s a boon.

The premise is simple: the mother of a suburban white family in Wisconsin wants to get a foreign exchange student, some handsome Nordic type, to help her dorky 16-year-old son Justin (Dan Byrd) become popular. But when the exchange program dupes her and sends a Pakistani kid named Raja (Adhir Kalyan), a practicing Muslim, life goes awry as the family members learn how to deal with Raja and he learns how to deal with them and America through his trial by fire: high school.

Though it’s been a while since I haunted those hallways, the setting seems relatively accurate. While the characters, especially the random students who ridicule Justin and Raja, are a bit exaggerated, it’s to be expected in any comedy that revolves around teens. To this point in the series, the way other students (and teachers, and pedestrians, and all forms of life in Wisconsin) are wary of Raja—not overtly racist, but their glances and comments dripping with dread and assumptions of his foreignness and Muslim values—rings true.

E.g., everyone knows being openly racist is a no-no, even in small town Wisconsin, but being covertly racist, or better yet, not realizing you’re being racist? That will fly. Raja’s stroll through the hardware store seeking parts to build a rocket for class quickly brings the police to his host family’s doorstep. A substitute teacher sees Raja, then introduces himself to the class as “a devoted father of two little boys who really need their dad.”

Even those who aren’t immediately suspicious of him find certain nuances odd (once they get past the fact that he dresses in traditional Pakistani garb every day). Like how he won’t eat pork—apparently in Wisconsin, that seems to qualify as a shocker. Or how he has never seen porn. That’s simply a jolt to any teenage male with a computer. Or how he doesn’t consider saying he’d take his best friend Justin with him to a desert island to be an admission of homosexuality.

The adventure is through how similar Justin and Raja can be, because the isolation both feel, one as a seeming target in his high school, the other a target in his host country, brings them together. Rather than causing them to demonize the other, the societal exile they feel only serves to galvanize their bond, albeit in socially painful ways. But any teen worth his salt endures such tribulations. So I say, as a teen who endured many of these.

I find the experiences to be quite relatable on multiple levels. I am American born and raised, yet I’ve had people openly say, “Your name is very strange.” Even when I said, “It’s a relatively common Indian name,” the lady retorted with, “Well, you have to admit it’s strange.” For the record, I admitted nothing. Having been to Wisconsin shortly after 9/11, I can also vouch that my Anglo friend and I received nothing but stares. As in, everyone at that excuse for a mall stopped all activity and stared at me. And I’m not quite good looking enough to merit that. My white friend even caught on (though he’s far less oblivious than most) and said, “I’m really sorry about this, let’s just get out of here.” So we went to Applebee’s or something like it, where some redneck proceeded to stare me down as well. I hope I wasn’t good looking enough for that.

My point is, the writers are keeping the townsfolk’s cultural foibles comedic, but somewhat realistic for a suburb. Even Justin is posited as a smart, dorky, and culturally ignorant kid. Not willfully ignorant, but like most people, simply uninformed and not actively seeking information. Per my experience, that’s pretty accurate. This is what impresses me the most.

As for Raja, played well by Adhir Kalyan, the character does seem somewhat culturally accurate from my limited knowledge base (feel free to tear me up on that statement). I am not Pakistani, nor have I lived in Pakistan. But, I have had many friends who are Pakistani nationals. While he definitely seems less worldly than he should be, it’s believable that someone like him could exist somewhere in rural Pakistan (which is the case, according to the story). The whole traditional garb every day thing is a bit farfetched, especially if his family is well-off enough to help him live abroad, and given his familiarity with all common technology and ease with the internet and America in general, you think the kid would have a t-shirt somewhere. Maybe it’s coming in future eps. And the name Raja? Collective sigh. And his accent sounds more Indian than Pakistani, if one can distinguish between them.

However, if anything, the biggest fault with Raja thus far (keep in mind, there have only been three episodes) is that he’s too nice. No flaws, no real culture clashes for him, no issues with his identity as a Pakistani or as a Muslim. He’s just been the nice guy and the victim of xenophobia. There’s plenty of time yet, and here’s to hoping the writers find a graceful way to integrate a more realistic part of Raja’s life without revealing his poster of Osama Bin Laden and him saying, “That is my grandfather…”

Of course, it’s extremely possible that you simply won’t find the show funny. A lot of it is based on hack teen humor and issues, sight gags, and the prosaic small town mentality meets the “outside world.” And if you don’t gravitate towards the main character and his outcast status, there’s really not a lot left. If that’s the case, I wouldn’t blame you. My interest in the show certainly isn’t wholly based on its comedic merits. I may even go so far as to say that if I had no brown connections, I doubt I’d watch it.

But I am brown, and for now, this show has kept me interested. And, unless this program takes a complete suicide nose-dive (think jumping the shark exponentially, a la “Grey’s Anatomy”), Desi Manifesto will be there to see it happen.