Little Paki

Every year, you get one of those kids who pretend they're from the hood- the Bronx. They swagger with their pants riding low. When they speak, they use "rap style" with their hands almost poking someone's eyes. They say "bling-bling" everytime and think that it is enough to qualify them as a "nigga from the Bronx or hood."

An ex student of mine never fails to greet me everytime we cross paths. "Paki" is what he is called because of his Pakistani looks- nice tan, sharp nose and large deepset eyes. I taught him last year and boy did he try my patience! He was one of those boys who speaks fluently but punctuates each sentence with a "Yo, yo ma nigga!", " ya know ma man!", "Whatz up mah brahder, check ouwt mah bling!" "Wanna smoke sahm weed in mah bong?"

Perhaps one shouldn't blame him for having an identity crisis. He was a skinny Malay with Pakistani looks (Keturunan orang Dutch kali teecher ah!). So, he would try to be as annoying as possible in class. Unfortunately for him, he had me as his teecha.

"Paki" sits in his chair backwards and holds a pretend steering wheel while others were doing their work.

T: What are you doing?
P: Driving a bus muh man!
T: Oh. Are you the pakistani purple bus driver?

P laughs and admit defeat.

"Paki" arranges three chairs together and "slept" on them, holding a photo of a friend.

T: What are you doing?
P: I'm ah homeless mahn sleeping in ahn uhmerikan park.
T (with a black American woman accent): Oh, are you lookin' fer yer long last brother mah man? The one in the picture? A brother from a different mother? Cos he ain't black y'know!

P laughs and admit defeat.

P horses around in class with a paper bowl. He claimed that he had found the fountain of youth. After a few minutes, I had had enough. I grabbed the bowl from his hands and put it on his head.

"First you look like a Paki, now you look like a Singh!"

And that was how I helped him solve his identity crisis.