Odia seniors build a California community

A man and woman stand on a beach
Deba and Kasturi Mohapatra who helped organize the retreat (image courtesy: Annapurna Pandey)

Friday’s welcome dinner at  Santa Barbara on the 2024 Labor Day weekend was a traditional Pakhala (rice with water). This dish, with its unique preparation and cultural significance, instantly transported me back to Odisha, which I left behind 35 years ago to come live in California. The aroma of Saaga bhaja (spinach saute), Badi chura (fried dry lentil ball and ground with all kinds of spices from an Odia kitchen), Chingudi (prawn), cauliflower fry, and green mango chutney uplifted my spirits. Ahh! I am home! 

After several years of hiatus during COVID-19, the annual retreat in Santa Barbara was extra special. A senior couple took the lead, most other seniors joined, and their children in their 50s brought their children, most of whom were adults, and the number swelled to 150. We stayed under the same roof for three days away from home. We cooked, ate, entertained, and dressed in traditional costumes to showcase Odia culture. 

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A community retreat

The 50-year-old community’s retreat was a reunion of three generations, old friends, and families extending into the fourth generation. 

The Labor Day Odia picnic, now known as a retreat, started in the 1970s with a handful of Odias who took advantage of the 1965 immigration act that privileged non-Western immigration based on professional skills rather than race or skin color. They came for higher studies and better professional opportunities, then returned to Odisha to marry, and some came back with their spouses to follow their dollar dreams. Their number was small, and they missed familiar food, language, sights, sounds, music, songs and dances, feasts, festivals, colors, and Odia gup sap (chit chat).

A woman stands next to a table with bottles of Indian pickles on display
Achara ( pickle) competition with organizer Kabita Misra (image courtesy: Annapurna Pandey)

They sought each other out by searching for last names in the telephone directory. The newcomers would come with a reference from the college, university, and neighborhood and would connect with other Odias. They got together, did a potluck, ate, sang, and performed Odia skits reflecting on their myriad experiences and struggles. Their kids hung out with each other.

One Odia man in his 80s said, “In the 1970s, we barely managed our family with children with our meager graduate stipend, but we felt rich amid our Odia community.” 

Four families to 100,000 Odias

In the 1970s, there were only four families. When I came in 1989, I was drawn to the annual picnic with about 25 families, which has become a yearly ritual in my household. After three and a half decades, the number of Odias in California has grown to more than 10,000, especially with the IT revolution. Today, there are about 100,000 Odias among the country’s 5 million Indians.

Still, this retreat is led by a senior now in his 80s. It has become a place of reunion and celebration for Odia families and their children, providing a platform to reconnect and share their culture. 

Many changes have occurred in the lives of the 25 core families in the last decades. Several members are no more, and many are less active in the community. When one senior passed away in 2022, the whole community stood by the grieving family. A second-generation family member told me, “I had never seen the support and dedication of a community to an individual member like this.” These senior members connect with the younger members enthusiastically and have become the community’s elders. They are considered role models for the younger Odias and are a source of pride and identity for the Odia community in California. 

Seniors at the 2024 Santa Barbara Retreat

At Santa Barbara, 150 Odias, with their families, arrived from all over California by car, train, and flight to spend three days indulging in good company. The second—and third-generation youth poured in to participate in the powwow. Participants ranged from seniors in their 70s and 80s to younger Odias with children, including toddlers. 

The contributions of the senior members were palpable. Two women in their 70s were in charge of cooking rice and dal. Lunch was done by 2 p.m. I stayed in the same apartment with one of them. There would be a soft knock on the door shortly after lunch. The women, one with her dal seasoning and the other with rice cookers, would go out the door to prepare food for 150 people. 

Imndian women in bridal outfits
Third generation young women in bridal fashion show with the mentor Evarani Sahu 4th from left (image courtesy: Annapurna Pandey)

After a full day of outdoor sports, wine tasting, and relaxing activities, attendees met at the community hall for more food and entertainment. The highlight was the kids’ talent show. This year, third-generation women in their twenties stole the show with a bridal fashion parade. The young women worked for months on Zoom, trained by an Odia aunty to present bridal costumes representing different regions of India. Two sisters, whose mother is now in her 50s and is a regular at the retreat from her childhood, said, “We never imagined that we would be performing on the stage. It was an out-of-the-world experience”.

A generation of adopted families

Seniors in the Odia diaspora defy the Western binary and remain young and productive. They selflessly contribute to the community creating an alternative narrative from the individualistic perspective.

The connections between the first generation who came in the 1970s were solid, and their friendship created an extended family, even more potent than in India. Many of their children have remained friends. The first generation has laid the foundation for this “adopted family” for the second generation, sharing wisdom, culture, arts, friendship, and social support.

Not afraid of being old

Several popular books on aging have focused on how older people must keep themselves grounded and secure. Lyn Slater’s 2024 memoir How to Be Old emphasizes that age should not be a factor in deciding what to do. “When people ask me, I make them feel less afraid of being old.”

The seniors in the Odia community are not afraid of being old; instead, they focus on giving back to the community. One second-generation youth told me the senior members’ examples are so significant. “Can we pay back? Isn’t it time to find a way to follow their tradition and create a support system as a community?”

Now, my children are grown, have moved away, and have young children. Through this retreat, I have gained a whole Odia community.

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Dr. Annapurna Devi Pandey teaches Cultural Anthropology at the University of California, Santa Cruz. She was born and brought up in Cuttack, Odisha. She taught for eight years at Ravenshaw College, now...