Liya Abil: Week 1-Healing

    Last weekend, I was getting ready for an Onam celebration, a festival that celebrates the good harvest of Kerala, India. I stood in front of the mirror making sure my half sari was draped perfectly as my mom clipped jasmine flowers to the back of my hair. As I looked at my reflection, I realized that I felt the most beautiful when representing my culture. This made me think about how just a couple years ago, the same moment would have brought me disgust. 

    Being born in India, I was exposed to its culture from birth. The spicy and flavorful food, the practice of eating with our hands, T.V shows like Chota Bheem, Indian music and more. There is so much to love about our beautiful culture but when I moved to America, I resented it. When we first came to the U.S, we moved to a city in California that had a majority of a white population. Slowly, I started making changes in my life in order to fit in with the crowd. I asked my mom to give me sandwiches instead of masala dosa, I stopped wearing Indian clothes for festivals or holidays and I would practice speaking in an American accent every night in my room. 

    My culture had slipped away from me. 

    The diverse environment that I was met with when I moved to the Bay Area in third grade opened my eyes. I saw all these people that looked like me and could relate to things that I have experienced but I still wasn’t able to love my culture. I was filled with anger and disgust for a long time because I had put in all this work to hide an entire side of myself while others were able to embrace it freely. 

Slowly, I realized that all of this rage wasn’t going to do me or anyone any good. It took a while but during quarantine, I ate my mom’s home cooked Indian food every day and started to watch Bollywood or Malayalam movies every other weekend which brought me a newfound appreciation for my culture.  

Attending the Onam celebration reminded me of why I started loving my culture again. The amazing taste of the food prepared for the occasion, seeing everyone dressed up in their best saris and kurtas, and dancing to Malayalam music brought me so much joy that day and made me wonder how it was ever possible to resent the best part of my identity. 







Comments

  1. DharshiniSeptember 4, 2023 at 8:37 PM

    Living in both India and America seems like such an interesting experience, especially because you’re able to compare both cultures and notice the similarities and differences. I agree with you, Indian culture is so beautiful and flavorful but sometimes it feels like I take my culture for granted and should learn to appreciate my culture more. It’s great that you found a way to find confidence in your culture again and moved on from resentment, and I hope you continue to enjoy learning new things about your culture. I also admire your writing style, since your passionate diction you used to describe your experiences with culture made the story more captivating.

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  2. Bill WangSeptember 5, 2023 at 10:28 PM

    Hi Liya! I really like how you jump from time period to time period in your blog! It provides a very interesting narrative. In addition, I like your descriptions of several aspects of your culture, as they provide a strong image. I find it rather poetic how you fell back into love with the part of your identity that you had tried to forget. Personally, one of my favorite parts about America is how it is a melting pot of culture, especially on the East and West coasts. To me, America is a immigrant country ; a large portion of the population is immigrants, and many of the others are descendants from European settlers. Especially considering the diverse nature of America, I feel like people should be able to express their own culture more comfortably, and not be pressured to fit in.

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  3. EmilySeptember 6, 2023 at 9:47 PM

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  4. EmilySeptember 6, 2023 at 9:48 PM

    Hi Liya, I think it is amazing how you are learning to embrace your culture again. Living in Fremont I have personally never struggled much with concealing my identity but reading stories like yours make me grateful for the place I live in. My dad always also uses the phrase of American being a melting pot of cultures, and I think that is very true since America is made up of a lot of people that came here because they saw more opportunities in America rather than their homeland. And I really hope that they found what they are looking for.

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