What's The Opposite of Multiculturalism? Uniculturalism?

Are you married to a Pakistani? Do you ever feel like your life gets a little TOO Pakistani sometime? Perhaps after the fourth uninvited guest drops by your house to visit, preventing you from leaving to take care of your errands. Or after you've eaten through your fourth straight day of biryani. Mayeb you're just tired of sitting in on conversations you can't understand, except when they involve people speculating on your weight, THAT you seem to understand just fine. (That actually happened once. I'll have to tell you about it.)

Well, if you'd like a brief foray away from all that Pakistaniness - a place where you will find no masala at all in anything stronger than a chili dog,  might I suggest attending a Monster Truck Rally? I can almost guarantee your husband will be the only brown person there. And the audience will be made to sing and/or several patriotic songs. Then, there will be a lenghty tribute to the various American armed forces, transitioning into a tribute to all service workers such as police and EMTs and doctors. (I made my Mian stand up when they called for doctors to stand. Hey, a Ph.D. counts!)

I joked as we were sitting down that I was positive there was no one I knew in the audience - non of my friends would be that kind of crowd, I thought. Later, one of thr truck drivers signed a t-shirt and was going to throw it into the audience and M yanked our son onto his shoulder and began shouting for the driver to throw the t-shirt in our direction. And he DID! And we ALMOST caught it to, it grazed M's hand and then my hand and then fell into my seat, but the evil teenage girl sitting behind us nabbed it (nabbed it from a four year old boy, I might add.) Later, M said "Wouldn't it be funny that probably the only Pakistani guy here gets the signed t-shirt?"

Minutes later, a coworker of his sent him an email "You almost got that shirt! I saw you on the Jumbotron!" I guess the Pakistani has more sterotypical American friends that I do!





A trip to the museum first, to see a woodturning exhibit (Mian's choice, it was his birthday weekend afterall.)



Pizza at the only restuarant we ever eat at when we visit DC.