Getting off the plane and being blasted by the hot, humid air was only the beginning of my long two week stay in El Salvador. It was only my second time going to El Salvador but it had really changed compared to the last time I went, but for my mom it was her first time back in 20 years and it was a sight to see when my mom and my grandma got reunited. From there, my little brother went with his dad's side of the family and the rest of us went with my mom's side. It was a 2 hour drive from the airport to my grandmas and it was around 2am, the usually crowded streets and markets were empty and the heat just as unbearable. My grandma lives in a small fishing village. When we got to my grandma’s we tried to go to sleep but couldn't so we just …show more content…
They even had people going around with machetes and torches patrolling the streets when news of gang violence erupted. What scared me the most was that i had started getting used to that way of living. I wanted to leave. I wanted to go home. But I wanted my mom to enjoy her time there, to enjoy the feeling of nostalgia. So I had to overcome the thought of being killed there and just enjoy my time there. I ended up enjoying my time there after overcoming my fear and had the best time i could with my family. It wasn't till we got home that i found out my mom was just as scared as i was and maybe even more. It was then that i knew i had to make a change to help my family. I wanted to help them get out of that kind of living. But that is something that i can't do right now. It pains me to know that i can't right knowing my grandma has limited time right now. But sometime in the future( when i have a stable source of income) i will do my utmost best to support and maybe even get the a citizenship here, but who knows life is a peculiar thing. Stuff may work out but others may not its up to me to decide what i do and when i will do
I was born in Colombia, South America and lived there until I turned seven. Before I moved to the states, I attended a public school and was on the competitive swim team for my school. I earned many awards the year and a half I swam for my school. I took pride in competing with girls three to four years older than me. I also remember how different things were there than they are here in the states.
My pregnant grandmother Petronila Machado gave birth to her baby son Cesar Obdulio Chavez Machado, who was named after his stepfather on December 10, 1953 in a small rural area known as San Pedro Arenales, Municipal of Chinameca, Departament of San Miguel in El Salvador. My father wasn’t born in a hospital. He was born in my grandmother’s home. Her home still exists today, and is the only adobe mud brick house in San Pedro Arenales. My father was always called Cesarito.
In addition to living in fear, Miné was forced to live in
Long ago I thought there was no light at the end of the tunnel; long ago I thought there was no hope. Surviving isn't living and doing it so scared of the repercussions is just horrible. I was born and raised in Cuba, I saw the despair of many families. I saw death, disease and the dissolution of families, friendships.
Living in Nicaragua, I have developed many relationships among the lower class. These relationships gave me time to reflect upon myself and be grateful for the resources I have. Communicating and spending my time with the children on my parents' mission site, I have come to understand the children and their circumstances of financial hardship. This time of serving gave me a time to understand myself and helped determine my future goals in my academic life and career. One particular relationship I had was with a boy named Kenner.
El Salvador is one of the most well known countries in Central America. There are multiple cities that make up this country; but within these cities is what makes this country unique. The variety of food, tourist attractions, and cultural events are all different qualities of El Salvador. Food plays a big role in making up the country known as El Salvador.
For countless families, this violence instilled immense fear in their hearts. Fear took over the lives of many people, but I decided that this situation would not stop me from living a normal life. When people asked me why I was still living in such a deadly city, I would simply respond that I loved my hometown. The city was going through a tough period, but it was up to its people to keep the city alive. We had to work as a community to rebuild what had been lost through violence.
Then during my senior year I once again experienced the dangers right in my very home and one of the few places I ever felt safe. On this practical afternoon my father was not home and I was coming home from school. I was walking in the house; right before I could turn around to lock the door I had a gun pressed to the back
There were rice plants on my left and farm animals on my right. I grew up in New York City, so you can imagine the millions of questions that were running through my head. I’d never been to the countryside of the Dominican Republic before, but when I finally did, I couldn’t be more ecstatic, despite the scorching Caribbean sun burning down on my brown skin. I hadn’t visited the Dominican Republic since I was four years old. All I had was vague memories of my grandmother’s boisterous laugh and the chickens in the backyard I loved chasing after.
In this letter tells of how I crossed the border between Mexico and the United States. I left my house in Guatemala at 4:30 in the morning bound for Mexico on 28 January 2002. Arrived to a central bus station in Mexico about 7:00 in the morning, where there was a man who would help me cross the border. I remember very well we took a bus as about 7:30 in the morning, while in the bus the man gave me a passport with a tourist visa for me to use to cross the border. The passport was from Guatemala, if I remember right, I do not remember under whose name was made the passport.
Running down my grandmother’s back corredor in Salvador trying to grab a hen. Exhausted of chasing back and forth for the hen under the shinny sun above me. It was extremely hot about 95 degrees Fahrenheit and I was dripping sweat all over the place. I couldn’t grab it because it was the first time doing it and didn’t know the correct way to do it. My grandmother came over since she saw me struggling and taught me the correct way.
My family felt threatened by all the violence the country was in. That's when my family and I fled to Syria for limited time intel the country's condition could get better. When we came back to iraq at that time the security conditions in Iraq were terrible They got from bad to worse. One evening a massive shooting occurred near our
Over the Border Every year my family decides what to do for the holidays and where to go. Most of the time I have no say in it because my uncles insist on visiting or they invite us over. It doesn’t help that all of my family lives in Texas, California, and Mexico. This year has been the first time that we have spent Christmas and New Years here at home with just my family in a long time. Last year we took a long trip to Chihuahua, Mexico which is the biggest part/state of Mexico where my mother is from.
“Bienvenidos a El Salvador,” the flight attendant announced over the intercom. I looked towards the windows and enjoyed the breathtaking scenery. I could see the long fields, the beautiful hills and valleys, and the volcanoes. The palm trees were bright green and the sky was filled with color. The land seemed to be filled with life.
We returned home and there we stayed till we heard gunshots. We were only home for a hour it took a hour for the Germans to take over the town of Zgierz the town i used to call home was no longer home to me it was the start of my horrible lifetime and may i say it was bad luck for my dad because he soon returned when poland was defeated. At this time i was only seven years old at seven i was taken from my home and was forced to walk 11.4km to you it might not be much but for a seven year old that's a long