Americans have every modern technological creation and millions of opportunities for a better life. But why are Americans so unhappy?

When I was notified of the approval of my F1-visa, my uncle Liaquat did not take any time to extend his warm congratulations.

He said that I would soon be surrounded by white kids and would have a white girlfriend. I also anticipated that this could happen.

To understand why we felt this way, let me share some background about who I am and where I come from.

I was born and raised in a place that is very different from the United States. While there are many international students coming from every corner of the world with their own preconceptions about Americans, the preconceived notions that the Baloch people have about American culture is significantly different.

I was born in Balochistan, which is a province in the south-west of Pakistan. Geographically, it is the biggest province, covering 44 percent of Pakistan’s total landmass. However, it is economically underdeveloped and educationally backward.

Because it has a literacy rate of just 41%, one could say, it is one of the most overlooked corners of South Asia. But when it comes to hospitality, people of Balochistan are second to none. They are extremely generous and friendly.

The entire family lives under the same roof. They eat and share foods, usually sitting on the floor and gossiping about politics. Only a tiny percentage have the privilege to live in concrete houses. The majority of Baloch live in cottages and mud houses.

In Balochistan, governmental support for its citizens does not exist. There is no insurance and medicare system. There is no facility or mechanism for low-income families to receive government support. The quality of life in Balochistan is worse than a drought-hit region of Africa.

I enjoyed living a simple and poor life in the crummy streets of Balochistan.

In 2004, my family immigrated to the Sultanate of Oman because of political turmoil that erupted in my hometown. It also resulted in the displacement and mass migration of many Baloch. Oman is very close to Balochistan, so I did not experience any culture shock.

The Baloch people, like the people of Oman, are pious, friendly, warm and hospitable. In Oman, I made more friends who spoke different languages and shared different cultures than anywhere else I’ve lived. In Oman, I never felt like an outsider.

I was comfortable with this new life which is why by the end of 2016, I felt sad to leave Oman to embark on my new journey to the United States.

Just like most of my friends, I thought all Americans are white, extroverted, and easy-going. I also believed that all Americans have more than one girlfriend or boyfriend. Additionally, I thought that all Americans are smart and are nerdy, as the most revolutionary technological inventions— airplanes, mobile phones, bulbs, rockets, and television— emerged from this country.

I contemplated deeply about this new journey. I thought about my future life in the United States based on my limited hearings about American culture.

The Baloch in Pakistan share popular attitudes that life in the United States is like that of jannat, or paradise.

Full disclosure— this analogy is increasingly common among the people that I have spent time with. There is no question that every corner of paradise is easily accessible in the United States, particularly in the Pacific Northwest.

One of my friends said jokingly, “You will see and interact with Houris, who would be walking in the street of the United States.”

In the Qur’an, Houris refers to “fair women” given as a gift to men who enter paradise. Houris are adorned as extremely beautiful women with white skin and big beautiful eyes. Some of my friends think that white blondes are no different than the Houris that one could receive in response to their good deeds in paradise.

On a winter night in December 2016 and with great excitement, I prepared for my journey to the United States.

I felt lost when I entered Chicago O’Hare International Airport. My head was in the clouds. I saw snow for the very first time that night. However, I did not know how naive Americans could be when it came to geography until I handed over my passport to an immigration officer.

While looking at my visa stamp on the passport, he asked, “Is Muscat your last name?”

I replied smilingly, “No, it is the capital city of Oman, where I applied for the visa.”

I was flabbergasted. How could an American immigration officer have such limited information about the geographical location of other countries?

Watch this report about poverty in Balochistan

As one might expect, when I reached Seattle, it was raining.

The city of Seattle is known for its rainy weather beyond the border of the United States. The next day I wandered around the beautiful city with some of my friends. I witnessed things that I never saw and expected before coming here, like encountering homeless people in the streets downtown.

It was the very first time I saw homeless people. I never imagined that the US, which has the world’s largest GDP, would have homelessness in the streets. Cultural shocks started to make a twist in my expectations.

I came to know from first-hand experience that people in the United States are antisocial and unaccepting, at least in Seattle because I have not lived in other cities.

I find it hard to interact with people, as they pass non-verbal cues to avoid communication. The majority of the people on public transportation sit silently, as though they are sitting in a funeral. I feel like an invisible object to them.

The classmates who I have discussions and group activities within the class do not recognize me outside the class. Using curse words such as the F-word in every sentence is normal unlike in the society I was raised in Balochistan.

One of the biggest cultural shocks was seeing the diversity of the United States. Back in Oman, I assumed that all Americans were white. I was unaware that this land would have people of every skin color, caste, and race. Undoubtedly, the greater the diversity, the better the education system. Nonetheless, all of this was still culturally shocking to me.

I have been socialized in a collectivist society. My mindset has been set accordingly to my agents of socialization. When I came to the United States, I interpreted my new life similar to the way I did in my country. Everyone is engaging and social there. We expect everyone to say salaam (hello) or greet us while walking in streets.

How could I expect that the richest country in the world with great revolutionary inventions would have thousands of people in the street injecting drugs into their body?

How could I think of Americans as antisocial and diverse as in contrast to how Americans are portrayed in the media?

Prior to coming here, I assumed that Americans were one of the happiest people on the planet. However, after the enlightenment that the United States ranks among some of the world’s most depressed people, I was shocked.

Americans have everything. They have every modern technological creation, the most beautiful streets, and infrastructure, and millions of opportunities for a better life.

But are Americans really happy?

Reflecting on the experiences of living in multicultural societies, I had the opportunity to discover things that helped me look at the world from a very different perspective.

My experiences show that Seattleites are indeed devoted to the cause of social, economic and environmental justice, but their passion for such major issues would not extend welcome to the newly arrived immigrants.

I cannot think of any solution with regards to social issues such as the epidemic of drug abuse and homelessness in the US.

However, I deeply wonder, what is the role of educational institutions such as Seattle Central College— the school I am attending currently— in promoting diversity and cultural inclusion?

Nearly a third of Washington college students have experienced depression in the past year, and more than one in 10 have thought of suicide, according to a new survey designed to measure the mental health of the state’s college students.

Watch this excerpt with a Seattle Times columnist about depression and suicide 

Majid Iqbal is a student at Seattle Central College.