Before I began college, my dad told me that I’d end up being friends with those who were like me—that I’d stick to my “own kind.” What he meant was that the people who I’d surround myself with would all be Asian, a stark contrast to my high school best friends.
Whenever a relative from India can’t understand my broken Gujarati and says to just speak English, the thought comes up. Whenever I go to mandir to pray and don’t know what to say or think, the thought comes up.
Eating out used to be a delicacy. I once longed for the rare weekends when my family would go out to a restaurant like Olive Garden or even a fast food chain like Taco Bell. I shake my head when I remember how I once gagged at the food my mom spent hours preparing for us.
Dearborn, Michigan is the epicenter of Muslim/Arab American culture. It is a microcosm of the Middle East with people from every Arab country (i.e. Lebanon, Iraq, Palestine, Syria, Yemen, Saudi Arabia, etc).