She made me sit on the sofa, offered me water and then said toh shuru karen and I was like ji kya. She said cooking lessons buddhu then I said ohh sur...e lets go to the kitchen. Again I followed her, followed her saree covered ass actually and entered her kitchen. She asked what shall we prepare I said whatever you say. Then we decided to start with a curry. Everything was done by her I was saying her small bits of techniques which I had learned in my institute.During that I said to her that. His father Ibrahim Al-Hajj was a professional chef in The Bronx and his mother Fatima worked as a social worker for the New York City Department of Social Services. Farouk Al-Hajj was a twenty-year-old student at John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York City. And he lived right across from my uncle Levi Finkelstein, my father’s older brother. Contrarily to what I had observed in the Middle East, Arab-Americans and Jews could be friends in New York City. In my uncle’s neighborhood, there. She brushed a lock of red hair away from her eyes, and turned towards the man. "Should we atleast test out and see if shes experienced or not?" The man looked at Sarah sternly, then nodded. The woman pulled a suitcase out from behind her and set it on the floor. The man tapped the wall of the van, and the van slowed down to a stop. The woman turned towards Sarah. "Baby, do as I say and nothing bad will happen. But if you don't, then we will have to get violent, and we don't want that,. Do you not like me or something?’ ‘Of course, I love you, Carmen. You’re my sister.’ ‘I know you love me as a sister, but it is possible for us not to like each other as a person, as an individual, understand?’ ‘Yes, I like you. But I must admit I am curious about your life. You never share anything with me, so I have no choice but to speculate.’ ‘You do have a choice, Jo. You can choose to come to me and simply ask me about my life. Instead, you chose to be like a lot of other people out here.