Red Indian
So being Desi isn’t enough to protect you from sunburn, I learned yesterday.
Yesterday, we spent the whole day at the Houston International Festival. This year, they were showcasing India. It was exciting and I was in awe at how many people of all nationalities and backgrounds congregated Downtown near Sam Houston Park. At that moment, I really began to appreciate the diversity Houston held. And though I am talking about the diversity of cultures in the population, I also mean diversity in each individual I saw. I saw an African American lady teaching a little Hispanic girl how to Dandiya. Talk about going beyond stereotypes! It made me wish that Houston was like that all the time. Or maybe if there was a designated "Culture Zone" in Houston with street performers and different restaurants. Some places are semi-Culture Zones, like Montrose, but not completely. Well, anyway, my brother and I enjoyed it even though for the most part of the day we were manning the check-in table. This, indeed, was the same table where the sun kissed me until I, indeed, attained a permanant blush (in less poetic terms, a sunburn).
Well, I am now testimony to the fact that desis do in fact get sunburns. When our forefathers talked of Red Indians, there were not only ignorantly referring to Native Americans by some old-skool term, but to crazy desis like me who thought they’d never get burned by the sun.
