A Pakistani Teenager in Canada

I have always wanted to write an article like this so everyone
can know what we desi teenagers are really like instead of the
stereotype of us being worthless punks who run around acting
stupid (although this is the fact in a lot of cases). First I would like
to say a few things about myself. I'm an average 14 year old teenager who lives in Toronto Canada, although I was born in
Rawalpindi Pakistan. I have lived 12 years of my life in the Middle
East and only moved to Canada about 2 years ago. In the Middle
East I only went to English Speaking Schools and although I know how to speak Urdu I can't read or write my native tongue very well.

My mother makes me study Urdu once in a while after weeks of
telling me to actually get my books out. I am very angry and frustrated with learning this language. I say to myself reading the
passages in the Urdu Book "Why the hell do I have to read this
F\\*%\\*ng book". It's sheer frustration. My parents wanted me to
go to an American School so I could get a good Education but
now that I can't read or write my language it's a big problem for
them. They say that this our Mother tongue and I should learn
it, but to me it's a strange language with strange symbols and
letters which I don't like. I have never lived in Pakistan and I
say to them what's the point of learning this language. My strict
mother has different ideas.

She doesn't want me to live in Canada because she thinks I am
getting spoilt living in this country where boys and girls are allowed
to mix freely and where it's legal for women to go topless. I try to say
to say to myself that I have not changed ever since I came to this
country and that I am the same old nerdy person from the U.A.E.
I have changed a lot though. I am turning into a man. I am developing
feelings for the opposite sex. I have begun to find the responsibilities
of life hard to bear. I have grown a moustache in this period and
everyone is teasing me about how grown I look now especially
when I go back to visit my relatives in Pakistan. Even my classmates tease me about my moustache. All these changes
are happening to my body; changes which I don't understand
but will some day.

At school we have sex education and although my parents don't
know about this particular class in school I think they do suspect
something like it takes place. This one Pakistani boy in my class did
not want to take it when his Mom found out about it. He started
saying that this kind of thing was haram or something. He was
narrow minded if you ask me. Sex Education is mostly about teachers telling us about Sexually Transmitted Diseases, answering
questions about sexuality. The guys get a good laugh
out of it and when the girls start saying how immature guys are, the
teacher explains that all teenage boys are like that. I usally end
up sitting at the end of the room as a form of punishment.

On Fridays all the Moslem Boys get to leave early because we
have to go to Mosque for Friday Prayers. I never miss Friday Prayers but most of the guys skip Friday Prayers and go to Burger
King where they read (or should I say look) at porn magazines such
as Playboy and Hustler. They bug the guy who manages the
Burger King and keep refilling their drinks until the manager throws
them out. I usally end up being made fun of because I went to
Mosque and they start calling me Namazi. After
they stop drooling over the likes of Jenny McCarthy and Pamela Anderson, they go home, but usually not before a fight or something.

Most of these guys are perverts. One says if he sees a good looking woman down the street he starts wolf whistling at her
since this is Canada and he is not in Pakistan anymore; that
he can do this kind of thing here. What bullshit! I might not be a saint and but that's just stupid.

As a last note I'd like to say that we Pakistanis are beginning
to forget who we are. I might be sounding to idealisic but that's
the truth. It's absolutely alright to mix with other cultures and other peoples
but you should always have some pride in where you come
from and try to be who you are.