'I feel like I relate to people not only on the level of nationality or ethnicity, but for me it is more about similar cultural upbringing,' said one expat
Photos: Supplied
Twenty-three-year-old Aaron James has always called the UAE home. He was born to Filipino parents in Sharjah and has spent almost his entire life in the country. His identity was shaped by both his Filipino culture and the UAE’s multinational environment.
“I feel like I relate to people not only on the level of nationality or ethnicity, but for me it is more about similar cultural upbringing,” James told Khaleej Times, noting this sentiment reflects a shift among the younger generation of expats in the UAE, who are forming identities that transcend the boundaries of their parents’ traditions.
His father’s move to the UAE was similar to the journeys of many who have made the country their home. At first, his parents knew no one, so finding other Filipinos who were in the same boat as them was of utmost importance.
Stay up to date with the latest news. Follow KT on WhatsApp Channels.
Victory Church in Sharjah, which was predominantly Filipino, played a huge role. They would host potlucks at their apartment, organise community picnics at the park, and help new Filipino residents adjust to life in the UAE.
While James recognises that this is a natural phenomenon and there is a sense of comfort in having people like you around, his own experience is very different. His sense of belonging is found solely in the UAE, and nowhere else.
Along with James, Lana Amini, 23, and Nidhi Kothari, 21, feel similarly. Because they are third-culture kids, their sense of self and home is deeply rooted in the UAE.
For James, this means savouring the taste of a freshly made shawarma or manoushe, riding bikes with his family through the greenery of Al Majaz Park, or making friends of various nationalities.
Aaron James
Amini, for her part, has lived her entire life in the Garhoud area, after her parents moved to the UAE in 2002. As a child, her favourite places were on the swings at a nearby park or in the long isles of a Toys R Us store.
She went to an internationally oriented school, where almost everyone spoke English all the time. In some cases, the Arab students in her class did not know Arabic at all.
“It was very diverse and multi-cultural, but to be honest, I would hide the Arab parts of myself,” Amini admitted. This was a disconnect she faced in her early teenage years, and it was the reason she often didn’t feel Syrian enough when she would visit Damascus during summer.
She added: “There was this competitiveness between me and my elder sisters of who was more Syrian. It impacted my identity because at the time everything was about trying to fit in.”
Amini, who would get teased for her American accent, would have to think ten times before making a joke or pronouncing an Arabic word that might have been incorrect, and would feel immense pressure to be “as Syrian as possible.”
As she grew older, moved to university, and found her ground as a Syrian in the UAE, her feelings evolved.
“I am now so proud to be Arab here. Because we are in the Gulf, my Syrian values are also prevalent and overlap, which is why it is not that hard to fit in,” Amini added.
Along with James and Amini, Kothari was also brought up in Dubhai and considers it to be home. She spent the first few years of her life in Deira. Her childhood was filled with the taste of sweet brain freeze from Mini Melts, the sounds of music and laughter at Modesh Fun City and the sensation of a seaside breeze roller-skating down Jumeirah Beach.
“When I think of growing up here, I think of the Al Nasr ice rink and Aroos Damascus and watching the yellow clown climb up and down and up and down in Lamcy Plaza,” Nidhi recalled.
She visits India often, and she enjoys those trips thoroughly because it is partly how she stays connected to her people and her culture.
“But sometimes even my parents eventually feel like they want to go back home,” she said. “And that home is Dubai.”
Kothari’s parents migrated to the UAE 29 years ago. They spent the majority of this time in residential areas of Old Dubai, like Deira and Bur Dubai. Therefore, Kothari has made life-long connections and built a sense of community around that.
“We would celebrate Diwali and Holi with my building friends. And even in school, they put in the effort to make sure all desi people felt represented because we would actually get to dress up for Diwali just like we would for UAE national holidays,” she said.
Nidhi Kothari
However, Kothari’s identity is still characterised by the feeling of being ‘not fully here, not fully there.’ “I was born in Dubai, and it will always be home, but I will never be an Emirati,” she said.
She doesn’t feel completely Indian either because she believes living away from India naturally makes her broader-minded and more modern.
Kothari noted: “It’s weird because I am not completely removed from Emirati culture. I understand a bit of Arabic, I get their humour and their coffee culture."
Kothari also thinks that in some ways, the two cultures are very similar, because they value family, religion, and tradition, and so does she.
James echoes this sentiment, highlighting that there was a point where he felt like an outsider among Filipinos.
“When I was younger, I would sometimes struggle to connect with other Filipinos, especially those who had recently moved here,” he said, adding: “There was even a time when someone asked if I was ashamed to be Filipino just because I didn’t speak Tagalog perfectly.”
Yet, instead of feeling pressure to conform, James has embraced a more fluid sense of self. “Culture isn’t static,” he said.
“It changes with time, and that’s okay. My family, for example, has its own twists on traditions, like my mom making chicken adobo pasta instead of serving it with rice. Some might say it’s not authentic, but to me, it’s still Filipino, just in a new way,” James added.
Lana Amini
Amini, too, admits that her Syrian identity has inevitably taken on a new shape, one that feels unique to her experience in the UAE.
“I do have a fear that I am going to pass down a diluted version of my Syrian identity and I feel like that is inevitable being a third culture kid. But that is okay because I will take pieces of my culture that I love,” said Amini, adding: “Treating guests with such kindness, having good manners, valuing family. Social etiquette and responsibility are so important to us.”
Another crucial part of her culture that she wishes to keep is the value of humility and always being charitable.
Meanwhile, James said he used to joke with his mom saying that there is an 80 per cent chance he would not marry a kabayan (fellow Filipino), simply because of how multicultural it is here.
For James, the beauty lies in finding ways to integrate traditions into a broader, more inclusive framework. He noted: “The concept of Bayanihan (fostering love, togetherness, and family) doesn’t have to be exclusive to Filipinos. It’s about helping one another, and sticking up for each other.”
Therefore, the issue of cultural preservation that this generation faces will result in an evolution of traditions that transcend the bounds of one’s nationality.
reporters@khaleejtimes.com
ALSO READ: