A blaring car horn sliced through the warm summer’s night. A door swung open on my left, bringing with it swirls of broken conversations from within and the unmistakable aroma of cardamom ensnared my nostrils. On a grocery run for sugar cane and dried mango slices, I found myself standing in the collision site of two different worlds, cultures and philosophies. In the humble street named Oak Tree Road in New Jersey, I saw a part of my identity spilled over across ten blocks of roadside restaurants, hordes of people, and total chaos.
Oak Tree Road is a small part of Edison Township dubbed as “Little India”, an ethnic hub for immigrants of South Asian descent. Although my family has frequented the place to grocery shop for most of my life, I never realized the significance of the actual street itself until a couple months ago. The crumbling grocery stores …show more content…
And next door, the rude woman at the parlor is secretly struggling to understand why her daughter refuses to marry any of the suitors she showed her, following with tradition. Everywhere you look on this street, you can see people trying to figure out where they fall in the paradox of modern day East meets West. Questions like which traditions should stay alive, and how to assimilate to American culture without losing sight entirely of their roots are important, but impossible to answer. I still have a faded Polaroid of my outfit for my first day of school in this country. My mom woke up early that day to plan out my dress for that day- blue jeans, with a bright red T-shirt and a small American flag pin. On my forehead, there was the small red dot she took care to draw on. “Your bindi,” she told me, “is a reminder of who you are and where you come from.” It’s never easy to reconcile two sparring sides of your identity, at any stage of your
Oak Tree Road is a small part of Edison Township dubbed as “Little India”, an ethnic hub for immigrants of South Asian descent. Although my family has frequented the place to grocery shop for most of my life, I never realized the significance of the actual street itself until a couple months ago. The crumbling grocery stores …show more content…
And next door, the rude woman at the parlor is secretly struggling to understand why her daughter refuses to marry any of the suitors she showed her, following with tradition. Everywhere you look on this street, you can see people trying to figure out where they fall in the paradox of modern day East meets West. Questions like which traditions should stay alive, and how to assimilate to American culture without losing sight entirely of their roots are important, but impossible to answer. I still have a faded Polaroid of my outfit for my first day of school in this country. My mom woke up early that day to plan out my dress for that day- blue jeans, with a bright red T-shirt and a small American flag pin. On my forehead, there was the small red dot she took care to draw on. “Your bindi,” she told me, “is a reminder of who you are and where you come from.” It’s never easy to reconcile two sparring sides of your identity, at any stage of your