Amid the clanging of pots and pans in my kitchen, one small aluminum pot always stood out. Coming from Bangladesh, my mother’s deep love for cooking showed through her intricate spice mixes and complex marinades. If you look through our pantry, almost every nonwhite pot, pan, or container is stained with the distinct yellow hue of turmeric. Every pot except for the small aluminum one. Unlike the others, this pot has been held sacred by my mother and father, used only for making chai or boiling eggs. Every morning, it has been a staple of their routine before their long shifts at work. Neither of my parents ever grew accustomed to the taste of coffee, and they have made traditional Bangladeshi chai every day since we immigrated in 2008. On the other hand, the boiled eggs reflect how they learned to adapt to an American workday. Rather than preparing a full Bangladeshi breakfast of paratha and curry, they pivoted to hard-boiled eggs for their efficiency and nutrition. Though it is just a pot, it symbolizes the traditions my parents chose to preserve after immigrating. Now, using this pot reminds me of those fast mornings with my parents and of where my own cultures intersect. 

– JS

Relationship:  Im/migrant Im/migrant