In Venezuela, there once was a time where people walked on the streets. In my hometown, there once was a time where people bathed in the lake. A time when all was marvelous and safe. I, however, do not remember those times. Nevertheless, my whole life has been based on witnessing the slow deterioration of my beautiful country. Now, inflation rates have exceeded 170% and the country takes the position of having the Second-Highest Homicide Rate. I have had to see how the poverty stricken country got worse everyday, how people desire to immigrate and take everything they can with them, how outsiders look at you with pity because of the reputation your country has. No matter how inadequate my country might be economically or how sometimes there is no electricity, water, nor food, I still love my country. Having said that, I didn’t always feel as proud when they asked me where I came from. The tough …show more content…
There were still dollars in the banks and chances of finding inexpensive food. My country was at its best and I felt that the stork had dropped me in a wrong place. Every time I stepped out of my home, I could see was bundles of trash and chaos everywhere. This was definitely not the place I wanted to build a home in. I was, and I am unafraid to admit it, ungrateful and unknowledgeable about the beauty I had in front of me. I remember the day my perspective towards my country changed like it was yesterday. Two years ago, I was standing in the middle of a sea of yellow, blue, and red hues. I was present the day that the people in my country united for a common goal, to protest against the injustices of the government. Listening to people sign our national anthem, one I had not particularly enjoyed before, and perceiving all the different social classes coming together as a unified community to judge the atrocities that had been occurring left me utterly