The gruff father stood in the mosque’s courtyard, obviously a proud family man. He tried his hardest—and failed—to not smile for my camera while his kids goaded him into posing.

Another man plucked his baby girl out of his wife’s arms and proudly smiled as I snapped a photo. He looked at his infant daughter and encouraged her to also smile and look at my camera.

These weren’t the men I pictured when I thought of Muslim men. I thought of bearded, unsmiling faces. Slightly threatening.

I didn’t actually believe that all Muslim men were threatening. But before going to India, I hadn’t met a lot of Muslims.*

Then I met a smiling man, who could barely communicate with our group. He led us out of his mosque, into the market, and up onto the roof of a building to show us preparations for a wedding ceremony that would take place that evening.

I met fathers who brought their little kids to take photos with the white girl from America.

A weathered old man who wore a perpetual smile brought me a rose from inside a shrine, because as a woman I wasn’t allowed in myself.

These men were just like the men I knew back home, proud grandfathers, nervous new dads, respectable businessmen. They were fathers, uncles, brothers. They were some of the nicest, most hospitable people I’ve met.

*India is home to over 170 million Muslims, making it one of the top three nations in the world with the highest population of Muslims.

**This account comes from a college student who participated in a short-term media trip with Frontiers.**

Original article: FrontiersUSA.org/blog/article/challenging-my-misperceptions