I was visiting London and was sitting on the tube when I noticed it. I’d seen that look before when visiting the West. It wasn’t a look of curiosity but a look of hate. I tried to look away, but I was drawn to the man drinking a beer on the train.
“What the f**k are you looking at, raghead?”
Growing up, I didn’t always wear the scarf. I wore it when it was time for prayers and special occasions and when it suited me to have my ears closed. I still only sometimes wear one. The decision to look more “obvious” with my beliefs isn’t one I worry about in my home country.