An Unexpected Dinner

Or, How I had Dinner with a Muslim Family.

It was a hot day -- a really hot day. However, the clouds were rolling in, the air was cooling down and I was on a mission. Camera in hand, I'd decided to head up to the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge, formerly a superfund site and now I hint of Colorado from ages past just north of Denver. The idea was to capture the sunset as it lit up the golds and greens of Colorado's plains and perhaps, if the gods were kind, to catch a brilliant light show among the clouds.

Unfortunately for me and the three or four people who look at my pictures, the Refuge closes at 6PM and the Sun doesn't set until closer to 9PM.

:sad face:

So where to, that was the question.

I decided to head south, dreams of dinner possibilities filling my head. Pizza? A burger? Go healthy and have some oatmeal? I didn't have to worry about my dog as he was gone on his own adventure with my roommate and that's when it hit me: Cherry Creek State Park! There's a lot of places on the park where dogs are forbidden and since I usually have Rufus with me, I don't traverse those locations frequently. In fact, I can claim to have been to some of those locations only three or four times in the more than a decade I've lived within walking distance of the park.

Instead of dinner, I decided to go to the park, head over to the lake and catch the magnificent light on the gaggles of geese that float along the reservoir where dogs aren't allowed to range. I pulled into the park, drove around to the parking lot I was looking for (I'm not a Stormtrooper) and parked the car grabbing by camera, bag and tripod before heading towards the location I sought.

It wasn't too log before I passed a couple of picnic areas. We all know the kind: the ones with permanent tables and benches, paint fading, seats worn and a little grill off the to the side requiring the barbecuers to bring nothing but charcoal and food with them for an afternoon of fun with family and friends.

At the picnic area a family was enjoying the warm summer evening. I immediately identified them as Muslim based on the head scarves all the women wore, even the children in the jeans and t-shirts. A man was grilling at the grill and I said "Hi" to him as I passed. He greeted me back and I thought nothing more of it as I passed him and his family. Then I heard him ask, "Would you like a taste?" in his heavy accent.

Did I just hear that? I spun around and the man was looking right at me, "Would you like a taste?"

I cannot remember their names. I'm a terrible person.

I was caught in a conundrum. Being worldly as I am, I knew there was some sort of culturally acceptable answer, but I wasn't sure if it was to accept or graciously decline. In hopefully what was only seconds, but hat felt like minutes passing, my mind raced as I tried to recall anything at all from my cultural classes in college. I realized I didn't know the right course of action to take. If I accepted, was that an insult to a cultural nicety that was mere show? If I didn't accept, would he and his family take offense?

Finally, I erred on the side of caution: if he wasn't sincere would he have asked?

I smiled and told him I would be glad to accept a taste. As I clicked my dSLR into my tripod and set it down he apparently prepared a plate of food for me. 'A taste' didn't turn out to be a small sliver of whatever they were eating, but a whole plate full of lamb chops, cooked over a fire, and some watermelon. He then cleared a chair for me next to him and poured me a cup of fruit drink before handing me a bottle of water.

For the next hour I talked with him, thanking him for inviting me to join his family and learning about them and their lives. They were from Kuwait and were on a holiday in Colorado. They came to see the mountains. They'd been here for a couple of weeks already and still had a couple of weeks in the US before heading home.

I can't recall his name, but he claimed to be the director of sports for a government in Kuwait. I'm not sure if that means for the entire nation or a state within the nation, but he was clear it was not at the city level. His job, he said, was to work with coaches on techniques and training of their athletes. As I'm not really into sports myself, I asked him how he liked Colorado to which he and his wife both exclaimed at the beauty, the climate and the coolness compared to hot humid Kuwaiti summers. It was then I told him of a couple of out of the way destinations to visit if he and his family had time, including the Denver Botanic Gardens which was having a Free Day (today).

While were were talking an old German man and his wife walked past and my host offered him a cup to drink as well. The German man accepted and we all shared stories for a bit longer. The man wanted to get to the other side of the park before the sun set and I realized I was losing all the good light.

Again worried that I was going to offend the man and his family, I excused myself, offering to help clean up or carry anything to his car, which he declined.

I walked along the shore of the lake thinking about the whole situation, reminiscing about my time living in Europe where the culture seemed more welcoming to outsiders and wondered yet again about the differences in American culture of isolationism, even at the family level, and the more accepting nature of many other people.

That's not to say Americans aren't nice to people, or even unwelcoming, but that we're less likely to invite a stranger into our family events than many other cultures.

A little further down the coast I turned around to take a picture where I'd come from, hoping to catch the family just being a family, but they were already clear of the picnic area and presumably on to their next adventure.

An Android Shot of the Sunet After I left the Family