They’re called spices - a lot of people use them.
My first boss at McGill was from Cambodia. He was actually a survivor of “The Killing Fields” and after losing his entire family, began a new and successful life at McGill. He usually brought his lunch to the office, and one day, a co-worker stormed around the area where he worked and complained that his food - a dish native to his culture -“smelled like garbage.” To her credit, I called her out on it year’s later and she apologized, but the hurt was registered, as he would often tell co-workers, “Watch out, I’m eating garbage again.” It played to a form of self-deprecation that always made me squirm, as I have been guilty of doing the same thing with comments about my own ethnicity.
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