hippies

My Dad is German, God bless him. If not punk exactly, my guess is he brought with him some decidedly un-Arabic element to our country. Nevertheless, he converted to Islam, I suppose because he loved my mother. To convert for love is a good thing.
Dad is a teacher. He teaches mathematics at the university.
His hair is not curly like mine but still dark. He dresses like a European. And like me, he is taller than most people.
With the encouragement of my parents, I can now speak so many languages. Next stop is Turkish.
I wish I could speak every different language in the entire world.
It is said, at my age, I should be rebelling.
Maybe I am backward.