So yesterday was Thanksgiving, and we did one thing a little different. Rather than just stuffing our faces at our own house, we fixed some food and drove into Virginia to my aunt’s house to spend yesterday evening there. This aunt is my mother’s sister, and my mother’s side of my family are Christian Palestinians. My dad’s side are just boring WASPs. So that makes me, of course, half Arab.
What does it mean to be half Arab? Well…
I’m only half Arab. I eat my hummus… with tortilla chips!
I’m only half Arab. I make spinach fatayer… meaning I stuff a spinach filling into Pillsbury biscuits!
I’m only half Arab. I’m willing to martyr myself for what is right… by telling my relatives that my Jewish friends are awesome!
I’m only half Arab. A distant cousin tells me in Arabic that I’m wonderful… and I actually have no idea what she just said but I’m sure she’s pissed at me!
I’m only half Arab. I like to make tabbouleh… except the bulghur wheat is a pain in the ass, so it’s really just chopped tomatoes and cucumbers in a bowl. Close enough!
I’m only half Arab. Sometimes I get “randomly” selected at airport security… and sometimes I don’t!
I’m only half Arab. I’ll take my baklava… alongside a nice piece of pumpkin pie!
I’m only half Arab. I drink coffee from a teeny tiny little cup… while watching the Thanksgiving NFL game!
I’m only half Arab. I go to bed at 2am… which my family tells me is way too early!
I’m only half Arab. I yell everything I say… which makes me the quiet one!
I’m only half Arab. My relatives go on and on about how I need to find a good man and get married… which I just sort of ignore.