On Chai–Taylor Gustafson

I was first taught how to make chai from a friend’s mother growing up; originally from New Delhi, India, their family had immigrated the year prior and lived two doors down from my childhood home. Needless to say, I spent a great deal of time at their home and it was a full two years before I was trusted to make chai the “proper” way: combine half milk, half water; add grated ginger and freshly toasted cardamom pods, a bit of sugar, and black tea leaves; boil up three times, allowing to foam; strain and serve. When paired with 2 days worth of calculus homework and roti covered in cinnamon sugar, it was marvelous.

At the time, I didn’t think much of this after-school ritual I had – it seemed an added bonus to spending time with a friend. Additionally, there was always a variety of food on the table ready for when I arrived – all fresh, vibrantly spiced, and made with love. Over time, however, I began to realize the significance this food carried; with each visit, each shared meal, the invitation to join and participate meant that I was welcomed. As calculus progressed to studying for the ACT, chai developed into learning how to get the perfect crisp on biryani and how to flip roti without losing a few of your fingerprints (I did, at one point, lose a piece of my thumb courtesy to a mandolin). I contemplated this memory recently and discovered a meaning I had long held in my heart; sometimes, we may be hesitant to bridge the gap from what we perceive to be different cultural experiences. Often, it is not from a place of ignorance, but rather uncertainty from what is ok for us to do, or what is respectful for our place in a new situation. We worry about overstepping, about mispronouncing words, about misunderstanding traditions that are not our own. This hesitation, while well-meaning, may keep us from experiencing the richness that comes from learning from others.

Just as cultural differences can create hesitation, religious differences can sometimes create reservation in bridging the divide between people of different religious backgrounds. We fear unintentionally offending someone or overstepping boundaries, so sometimes, we choose to stay distant rather than risk making a mistake. Interfaith dialogue seeks to address this tentativeness – it is through dialogue that respect, openness, and a willingness to learn often leads to deeper understanding. When we engage in conversations about faith with humility and genuine curiosity, we create opportunities for connection. Through these exchanges, we learn things we never would have before if we hadn’t found the courage to try: shared experiences, common ground, and mutual engagement with learning. It is through these very conversations that discrimination and intolerance are fought, building a way towards a better world strengthened through our shared humanity.

My friend has since moved (and is also pursuing medicine, if I remember correctly) and her family moved with her. However, there are some things that always stay. For instance I now have the lifelong knowledge of how to make chai (which, I am sure, some readers may have variations of their own of). But more so, I have learned just how important it is to connect with others; it is that connection that I hope to foster as an Interfaith Fellow. So, take this as a sign to try something new this week – eating something, going somewhere – and maybe you will make a connection in the process.