Well, this is my story, but it could be anyone's.
We all know that if you were born in a country, it would define all your life.
It is like putting a stamp on you that would stay with you forever, no matter what you do, no matter what is your path, somehow you would cross it.
Now, a different culture is bearable right? What about a different religion?
Let me say a word: muslim.
What about a muslim in a catholic country?
Muslims and other religions are not really tolerated, lets say the truth.
But, this story is not about religions, don't worry.
It is going to be about the weight of a belief in a culture, on the way you grow up.
I realized only now, as an adult, how strong was that influence on me and on the people in my life.
This is going to be about my own experience as a very integrated muslim, in a country where integration is not the favourite word.
YOU ARE READING
A trip down my memories
General FictionHow does it feel to be part of two different cultures? How does it feel to be in a different country than yours? This is my story, my path, my feelings
