Challah and kebobs

For lunch my Good friend and I drove 7 minutes to biyrani kebob house. It's my favorite Afganastanian restaurant in the city. Together we ate our delicious tandori wraps.  Just as the taxi drivers had promised, this was the tastiest food in town.  She and I laughed as we shared our lunch.  We giggled as we imitated different accents, hoping that no one around us could hear.  We blushed as the good looking afghanis men walked by.  She's a South African Muslim with an indian dad.  I adore her.

When lunch was over we drove to our favorite coffee shop.  Our close buddies, the owners, are a loving bunch from Jordan.  When we sit there, we feel at home.  Warm lattes, sweet almond croissants all make us happy as we enjoy together.  As a unit we let the hours tick on by.

I rush down the road to pick up my two from public school.  My son's Portuguese teacher is a doll and runs to tell me what a great day he had.  I stand with another mother friend, a lively vivacious spitfire from China originally.  Our other friend, a British dentist of Indian Muslim descent joins our chat.  Then my dearest, a gorgeous gregarious gal from Gianna jumps in mid conversation.  We laugh about the day and dread the evening routine.  Dinner, bath, books, bed.

I look around the play ground and smile. We are all so different.  Blondes, brunettes.  Asians, Europeans and every sort of background.  Together we stand. In solidarity.  Trying to slug it out. One day at a time.  One packed lunch after the other. One load of laundry and then the next.

At home, my sweet and caring babysitter is from Brazil. She adores my kids and they love her.  She shares with them wonderful dishes from her country.  Each week they beg for her tomato and onion vinegar salad. I swoon when I see them eating foods from other cultures. Sushi, indian, thai.  They're always up for a new delight. 

Our other sitter is from Eritrea.  She's a young religious Muslim girl. For months I worried about telling her we were jewish. When I did,  she embraced it.  She sked questions and was interested. Her mom cooked us an Ethiopian feast complete with goat stew and injera bread. It was amazing.  We were connected for life.  

So many of our days are enriched by the multicultural nature of our city and for that I'm grateful.  My children will never know what it's like to hate or discriminate based on race, creed or colour. They will never judge by the tone of someone's skin or the twang in their accent.  I hope they'll continue to have friends from all over the globe.  My dream is that they'll love to travel to experience the world up close.

 

I feel sorry for kids who have a different view of people.  So many people I know send their kids to religious schools and it makes me wonder. What benefit can your kids reap when everyone is the same at school?  All jewish? All catholic?  All muslim? No thanks. I just don't understand.  But then again, everyone is entitled to their opinion. 

Thankfully my husband agrees with my views wholeheartedly.  I guess in a marriage, this is a pretty important value!?  We'll continue to share Shabbat challah with our Muslim friends and we'll eat kofta and kebob with them whenever we can. Namaste. Xo