Since this past weekend was Thanksgiving, I started reminiscing about one of my first Thanksgiving holidays in Austin. My mom sent me to this local grocery store, Fiesta to grab a few things for the eggplant parmigiana she was going to be making.
Fiesta is huge and they carry almost any Indian vegetable you can think of; tindora, paan leaves (6 for $1.00!), dudhi, karela, small white eggplants, guvar and methi just to name a few. They also have a long aisle of nothing but Indian/Pakistani groceries such as different flours, rices, dals, Gits packets, juices and achaars. Not to mention the Mexican and Latin groceries you may ever need in a lifetime.
So, there I was browsing the cheeses and this older gentleman turns my way and starts speaking in Spanish. Since I've moved to Texas, I've gotten really used to this. I just looked at him, trying to understand all the words and what he was saying so maybe I could help him. But he just kept jabbering really fast and I guess I must have looked confused because then he said loudly and angrily, "Don't try to act like you don't know what I'm saying! You young people come to this country and don't even know your own language. You don't respect your elders or talk to them in your language. You forget where you came from."
Ooooh, I was so mad! I couldn't help it and just screamed at him, "As a matter of fact, I'm Indian and I not only speak my language, but I speak another 2 fluently as well and if you spoke slower, I could've understood everything you were saying a minute ago." And finally yelled, "And for your information, the queso blanco is in the deli section asshole." Maybe it's just the Texas effect.