I videochatted papi the other day to catch him up on everything. Homesickness. Actual sickness. Hindi class. My apprenticeship. The cohort. A WEDDING?!
As I’m talking to my dad, I hear mami stirring red rice in a pot and singing along to the latest Ozuna song in the background.
For most of my life, I’ve lived around Latin culture. I have a born and raised Puerto Rican dad and a proud-to-be Nuyorican mom. With that being said, the beat of my heart mimics the energy of the brass and percussion instruments in a salsa song. The language we speak is one that when translated, signifies home to me. And the food is just too damn good… I can’t even put it into words.
As much as I enjoy being immersed in India, I desperately miss my Puerto Rican culture. I miss being around other Latinos. I miss hearing the language everyday. I miss how easy it was to connect to the culture back home.
I wonder if that’s how I’ll feel about Indian culture once I leave…
