Race relations

My son goes to this nursery where he's one of two Asian kids or to be more specific, one of two South Asian kids. The other's also a boy. I have never had a problem with race relations in the U.S if I exclude the one time a disgruntled car wash manager called me an Indian b!@#h because I left the car wash without getting a wash. And I only did that since he was so rude from the start. Anyhow, the car wash closed in a week.

Revenge is sweet.

But I digress. This school. I've been taking my son there for over two years now. The other mum I speak of wears a hijab. A charming woman but we aren't even friends. And I mention that for a reason--why is it then that everyone mistakes me for her and my son for hers, asking after my son naming the other boy.

Even after their kid's been in the same class as mine for months. Then they ask me inane questions such as, so you speak Urdu at home? No we don't. Its a beautiful language, but not ours. It's appalling how little people seem to know, or even notice. The headscarf should be a dead giveaway. No?

To top it all, she's all American, born and raised. Close your eyes and Tiffany or Heather might be speaking. I on the other hand am the one with the accent. I wonder if she has similar problems. Probably, this is why she avoids me. Still, I suppose it's the best we can get for living in a sterilized suburb.

Now, for all that ranting I do above perched on my high horse, here's the shoe on the other foot.

Every teenage Caucasian girl with straight hair of no matter what color, looks the same to me. It's my shame.

I once had to go like two feet close to a girl playing soccer to make sure she wasn't my son's baby sitter. I mean I had been waving to her frantically for over the course of an hour and she had ignored me. It then occurred to me that perhaps she wasn't being rude. That it probably just wasn't her. And lo and behold, it wasn't. I needed to be within kissing distance to be sure. Skinny girl, straight brown hair with blonde highlights, heavy eye make up, playing soccer. Must be her.

So I guess, its all the same folks. The confusion, the "exotic" faces that blend into one other. It all depends on what one's used to. What one has grown up seeing. Its my only excuse, and a bad one too, since I have been in this country for twelve years.

In my defense, I seldom confuse the adults. And then too, only if they have blondish, brown hair and similar names.

But hey, I am a member of an ethnic minority. That gives me the right to be indignant, doesn't it?

"Sure it does Mrs. Rafiq," they say to me in placating voices. "Sure it does."

Touche'.