An Indian family moved into the unit above me, and the smell of curry and garlic (and sometimes, an unidentifiable, fishy stench that can only mean something has gone terribly wrong) now regularly greets me upon arriving home after work.
At first I was annoyed, but then I put myself in their shoes and thought: maybe in their culture, the smell of Cheerios is considered offensive, and every time I make dinner, they cringe and silently curse my insufferable American habits.
But so long as they keep their silence, so too shall I.
