| I was excited for I had never seen the Pacific Ocean, and this was my first time on a visit to Alameda, California. I hurriedly made my way to the warm waters and took off my shoes, letting the currents take my feet with them. From a distance, I heard some of my cousins who were on the other end of the beach, so I slowly made my way to where they were. I noticed Bahar and Mena writing with branches onto the soft sand. I came closer to see what they had written; it read, "Proud to be Afghan." Standing there, they didn't notice me and kept talking in English and Dari-- a good mix. And they walked away. My eyes were fixed on the writing. I didn't know what to say. These were my cousin's children who were born in the USA, the ones that spoke Dari with American accents, and the ones that never stepped foot in Afghanistan; despite it all, they were proud of being Afghan. On our way back to Hayward to visit my dear uncle Karim, I drove one of the vans which had most of the kids, my aunt Goli, and cousin Yamah. The kids were laughing and enjoying the ride. One of them passed me a tape to play, and I put it in the player. It was an old Ahmad Zahir tape and the kids began to sing along. I didn't know if they knew what he was sing or not, but they enjoyed his voice and sang along anyhow. My aunt Goli smiled and shook her head. She than said to Yamah and me, "Our culture passes on to them." On that boisterous drive back to Hayward, I began to think deeply of how our culture has advanced. No doubt those of us that have lived here most of our lives and the ones that were born here in the West can see that Western culture has taken over certain aspects of our own heritage; nonetheless, no matter where we go or where our children grow, we will always have our culture intact. Yes, the war has raged for close to two decades, we have retreated to far away ends of the world, and we may have picked up different languages along the way, yet our culture has taken the long trek with us. We may not realize it at first glance, but deep inside each of us our culture rests like a precious, delicate flower. We only have to nurture that flower to see the full beauty, and if we prominently look after that flower, it will grow and soon yield to a boundless garden of enlightenment and culture that we can then pass on to other generations to come. |
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