El Paso sunsets are unbeatable. Bright shades of orange, yellow, and sometimes pink and purple paint my hometown sky every evening as the sun slips under the horizon.
I live right on the sweeping Southwestern border, or as we refer to it here the “Frontera,” which is Spanish for the border, between the United States and Mexico. The city is nestled between a small mountain range named the Franklin Mountains and the Rio Grande.
The borderland is one of the most unique places in the country, not only because of the breathtaking evening skies. El Paso sits at the westernmost tip of our great state of Texas and kisses two neighboring states, New Mexico and Mexico’s Chihuahua, home to our twin city of Juarez. According to the city’s website, El Paso is home to the largest bilingual and binational workforce in the Western Hemisphere with 2.5 million people who call it home. The unparalleled tight-knit community and the blend of diverse backgrounds make El Paso a place that is impossible not to love.
For me, El Paso is the city that gave me my culture, an identity, and a sense of belonging.
In November 2009, a 17-hour flight from rural Punjab to the El Paso International Airport completely changed where I call home. While I don’t remember that day (I was one and a half years old), my mom always describes it as transformative. She tells me she carried me and my two older sisters for hours to meet up with my dad, who was already settled in El Paso. For her, stepping off the plane meant a new beginning and a new future.
Immigrating to the Frontera gave me the unique opportunity to be raised around a literal melting pot of cultures. I grew up speaking English at school, with the beautiful melodies of Urdu and Punjabi at home, and Spanish filling almost every second in between, from exchanges at grocery stores and downtown markets to casual conversations with my neighbors.
I spent countless hours on the west side of town in my colorful ribboned dress performing folclórico at my school’s multicultural programs. On Fridays and during Ramadan, I would head to my beautiful white and golden mosque to pray. The smell of spices and different varieties of everything from mangoes to biryani masala at our local South Asian grocery store made me feel close to my native land. At the same time, American culture was also part of my everyday life: As a kid, I begged my parents (to no avail) for important things like permission to watch just one more episode of “Barbie’s Life in The Dream House” on Nickelodeon.
Each of my experiences encapsulates how much El Paso is built upon diverse backgrounds. It molded me into a person with identities that are constantly overlapping and intermingling. I’m not the only borderland teenager who feels that.
Mahrus Raaief, a junior at Coronado High School in El Paso, whose family comes from Bangladesh, says his friend group at Coronado is a global tapestry of people from Iran to India to South Korea to Colombia. “You get to learn so many things from various opinions and beliefs. The difference is what we have in common,” Raaief told The Barbed Wire.
High school senior Elena Roman, who has lived in El Paso for 14 years, told The Barbed Wire that growing up in such a rich, inclusive community like El Paso has been a formative experience for her, especially as an athlete. “It’s not just about the competition on the field, but the sense of unity that comes from being part of such a diverse community. It’s an environment where we all share a common respect for hard work and perseverance, regardless of where we come from,” Roman said.
Geoffrey Sias’ family has lived in El Paso since he was born. The high school junior says living and going to school on the borderland has given him a look inside different traditions. “The blend of cultures allows my friend group to consist of people from many backgrounds. I closely experience how people interact with their own cultures every day,” Sias says.,
I’ve learned from my peers and teachers about many unexpected parallels between Pakistani and Mexican culture. Both Mexicans and Pakistanis have an immense loyalty to our families. Respect for our elders guides our values and we both have a deep commitment to hospitality.
My favorite overlap is our joint love of food. And no one does food better than El Paso. The strong aromas, bold colors, and flavors, mixed with the variety of ingredients, create similarities between the two cuisines. Most of all, both foods are filled with painful but ridiculously amazing levels of spice that make our food stand out.
El Pasoans communicate and find unity through our amazing food. Ask anyone from El Paso and we’ll gladly tell you about fried beef tacos drowned in cheese and our devotion to Chico’s Tacos. Don’t get us started on the loaded burritos at Lucy’s and the chickpea crepe at the downtown Lamezze Restaurant.
Some of my most cherished memories on the Frontera are connected to meals. I remember Saturday mornings with my dad shaking me awake, and just enough time to put on my shoes before running out the door. We’d walk across the street to El Rincon De Cortez. I always ordered a steak burrito, and would pick off my father’s plate, who loved taking a menu tour. The only constant was salsa. Lots and lots of salsa.
Mexican food isn’t the only cuisine El Paso does well. My freshman year of high school, after I won a local debate competition, we went to our designated celebratory dinner spot at The India Hut. You can’t beat their chicken biryani or butter chicken.
One thing about community is, oftentimes, it grows strongest in the face of tragedy. It’s what I admire most about our city. Five years ago, a racially motivated shooting at a local Walmart that killed 23 people left our community shaken. I still remember hearing about this, my sister shook me awake and for a full 30 minutes, I felt I was in a terrible nightmare. We rushed to call my dad who was at work to check if he was okay and were glued to our computers for updates. That day has never left my brain. My community came together to uplift and protect each other.
After the massacre, however, El Pasoans were more united than I’d ever seen. We all worked together to rebuild the peace and love that shattered our hearts into pieces in an effort to make our city feel whole again. ElPasoStrong signs dominated our streets and people everywhere stepped up to support the grieving families. We wanted to change policy too and a growing call for action around the issue of gun violence was born.
Roman remembers that time too. “The perseverance I see in the people here, especially in overcoming adversity, has fueled my determination to push through obstacles and keep moving forward,” said Roman.
Now, as the borderland is constantly attacked by negative perceptions both by the media and political leaders, it is more important than ever to show who El Pasoans really are. El Paso is a loving environment and every person, regardless of their nationality or background, is essential to our community.
“I have visited other cities, and El Paso is a place like no other. It is an incredibly safe city, and our family has not had any trouble with anyone after we immigrated here,” Raaief said.
Sias said he’d like to be a professor at University of Texas at El Paso, or otherwise give back to the community. “Whenever I talk to people who have never visited El Paso, they always think that it’s either a dangerous or small city. My goal is to change the stigma around El Paso through the new people I meet,” he said.
In a city that is filled to the brim with different languages, food, and traditions, El Paso is a culture. As a child of diaspora, I’m lucky to have found a place that represents my identity. This border town is a place that brings me comfort and makes me feel warm when I get off a plane after a long trip. It’s a place that I would choose over and over again if given the choice. A place that feels like home. A place that is my home.