Hi.

Welcome to my blog. I document my adventures in travel, style, and food. Hope you have a nice stay!

Scars

Scars

I have scars on my arm from a door I got caught in when I was young in the refugee camp.  It’s’ the one thing I remember from our time there.  But I have an even more painful scar on my memory from a day a couple of years ago here in America.  My cousin and I were standing at the bus stop, just waiting, when an older woman came up to me and started screaming!  She called me a terrorist; she blamed me for the World Trade Center falling and for 9-11.  As with any new wound, it stunned me and I stood there shocked, not know what to do.  Then I looked at the lady and said, “Please don’t judge me for what is on my head, but for what is inside it.”  (For my knowledge and who I am.)  I watched her, wanting to react, but she didn’t know what to say.  Eventually, she just walked away. 

Typical

Typical