| Diary of a Neurotic | ||||||
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January 26, 2004 (Part 2) My parents come from different planets. They are two people who don’t like each other too much but are sticking it out for the well-being of their daughters. If it weren’t for the social stigma my dad would have probably been agnostic. My mom is a Muslim fundamentalist. I wonder if everyone is embarrassed of their parents as much as I am. They are of course clueless of the agony they bestow especially on these foreign trips when you truly understand the meaning behind the only way to find out how you feel about someone is to travel with them. The constant close proximity, sleeping in connecting rooms and sharing the same bathroom leaves you craving for times when you just want to be left alone. The first day of the trip we took a city tour which is a tradition no matter how many times we’ve been to that country. Since Bangkok is so influenced by its religion, the guide took us to all the temples. My sisters couldn’t wait to raid the nearest mall and my mother sulked in the van because learning about a different religion is a waste. The guide was excellent...one of the very few people I met who could speak English properly. Not only was she well informed about culture, politics, religion and history of Thailand but all the major countries of the world. First stop was the Golden Buddha made with solid 5 tons of gold to which my mother exclaimed ‘What a waste of Gold!’…yes in front of the guide who is a devout Buddhist. Between narrations of how Buddhism started in Thailand, its teachings and different poses of Buddhas my mother was like an annoying pop up window commenting how COMPLETE and PERFECT Islam is. I don’t believe that others can ever respect and understand your religion if you don’t show reverence to other religions. Except for my mother we all read the complimentary copy of ‘The life of Buddha’ cover to cover and amid all our discussions my mother would always jump in and say ‘But Islam is the best religion’. Then my dad would call her a fanatic and she’d fearfully hint that we’ll probably convert to Buddhism and I’d try to be the peace maker. Shopping with them was nerve wrecking….so many times I just wanted to shoot myself in the head. They would constantly argue whether to get the cushions with the leaf pattern or the plain one and after 30 minutes...decide the next place would probably have more variety. My dad hates changes or trying anything new. If we haven’t ever seen this sea creature fried with its eyes and legs poking out we are NEVER going to eat it. And then there is my favorite episode in the supermarket: Dad: Why are you getting these cookies we’ve never tried them before? Mom: Should we get the big or the small box? Dad: But I don’t know how these chocolate chip cookies would taste…we should just buy the usual ones! Mom: I think the big box would be better we won’t have to come back again for more? Sis: (Grabs both the new and the familiar boxes…throws them in the cart) IT REALLY DOES’NT MAKE A DIFFERENCE JUST BUY ANYTHING! Dad: What’s wrong with her? Mom: I think she wanted the small box. (1:13 AM) ~`~
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