It was a cold winter day. There was fresh snow on the ground as I walked out of the Philadelphia International Airport. I had lived in Fiji for the past nine years with only one or two short trips back to the U.S. in summer months to visit family. Everything in America seemed different from my previous home. The air smelled cleaner then in Fiji where the streets were filled with diesel busses that puffed out clouds of noxious fumes. The people looked different from back home where the people seemed more diverse with people of every color precariously crossing busy streets. The only constant seemed to be my family. We stood outside waiting for my grandfather to come and pick us up, my mother stood besides me, adjusting my little sister’s beanie …show more content…
Later on that night I told my parents I had a great day, but I was holding back my fears of what dilemmas I would face. The next week went by and I found myself stuck with the same problems that I started off with, I had not yet made any friends and I just wanted to go back home. Another week had passed before I had someone that I would consider a friend. My new friend was tall and athletic compared to my short and chubby self, but he lived on my street so we became friends because of proximity. He was in most of my classes with me and despite not having a lot in common with him he gave me a place to sit in the cafeteria and was a person that I could go outside and play games with. He was the person that I first played in the snow with, the person that taught me the rules of football, and the person that enabled me to open up a bit to be able to find and connect with others that I shared interests and hobbies with. Although we have drifted apart through the years due to differing interests, I am forever grateful to him for this first connection that he gave me. When I had first arrived in America I was in need of friendship and he was able to provide me with