Personal Narrative: Moving To Romania

Reading Enrique’s Journey, When the Emperor was Divine, and “Please Hear What I’m Not Saying” this semester has taught me there is more to the world than what is seen on the surface, which, in turn, has bettered my sense of global empathy. Sonia Nazario’s fictional novel Enrique’s Journey, sheds light on the truth behind the reason people migrate and the journey. Many of the people making this journey are children trying to locate their mothers in America because, in Enrique’s words, “My mom told me she loves me. No one else ever told me that” (143). The bond between a mother and child is not something that can be easily replaced.

SECTION ONE: HOME The author of this memoir, Leslie Vertes, was raised in Hungary, by an abusive and distant father, Alexander, and mother, Ilona. Her parents had an unstable marriage, and it caused Leslie to have a difficult childhood. Regardless of his father’s cold and disciplinary parenting style, Leslie learned a lot from him that he used later in life: shoemaking, dancing and organization. When Leslie’s father was out of work, his family lost everything; as a result, they had to sell all their belongings to get by and moved to Budapest in search of a new beginning.

I have lived in two distinct communities: the first was the small town of Moraga in the East Bay area of California, the second, and my current residence, is the city of Stockton. The former, Moraga is the epitome of white picket fence suburbia, with friendly neighbors, a high ranking public school system, and a practically non-existent crime rate. Growing up in Moraga, I was able to receive a great education, roam the streets freely with friends, and never had to fear horrors, such as, gang violence, sporadic neighborhood shootings, or drug abuse. Sadly, when I moved to the latter, most of these horrors were apparent weekly, if not daily.

“They didn 't want me to go but I wanted to,” Anna Sandrzyk says. Anna’s family was terrified of having their only daughter leave home at the young age of eighteen. Life in Europe was simple. There were little towns with miniature shops and farm land that spread across the landscapes of Slovakia like an enormous blanket. That just did not seem to be enough for Anna, she had a passion for traveling.

“This country has so much beauty. We were deprived of opportunities and now they’re everywhere. My family can learn. My children can play. I have been granted my humanity.”

After her Junior year in high school, she planned on moving to New York City. Her mom did not show any feelings other than jealousy of Jeannette’s decision. On the other hand, her father showed remorse for her daughter’s choice. He tried his best to convince Jeannette to stay with the family. Her father reminds Jeannette, “If things don't work out, you can always come home, I’ll be here for you.

Prolouge As I took a deep breath in, smoke entered my lungs and I could barely hear my mother saying, “Go. Go to America, get a job and send us money and one day” she coughs and when she can function, she continues, “ one day, we will join you.” he grabbed my trembling hands in her own soft, warm ones as I asked her, “ What about the kids, it’s not safe here for them?” She motioned for me to bend lower to her and she whispered gently into my ear, “They will be fine, I will protect them.

My parents and I moved to the Dominican Republic when I was thirteen years old. Living there as a young American came with many challenges. One of the biggest threats against foreigners is violence. Within my first years of living in Dominican Republic, I had experienced two incidents at it firsthand. The first incident happen a week before school began, I was mugged by two assailants; man on a motorcycle and another man on foot.

I remember my mom picking me up from daycare early because it was right near an international airport. I remember my dad telling me he didn’t know when he was going to be home because his building was put under high security. I remember my grandmother desperately trying to contact my aunt, a flight attendant for US Airways. I remember her crying of relief on the phone when we finally contacted her and found that she was safe. And lastly, I remember the president of the United States, telling me, a terrified

I used to have this grudges in my heart when everything go hard that would made me wanted to blame my parent. But I can’t because I was not raise to think that way. When I come to America, I was eleven years old and no one asked me if I wanted to come it just happen in a second. I was in a cold place with extended family that I never met before and that one person who raise me and made me feel secure was still back in the country. I had to lived months without her and next thing you know I adapted and convince myself they are doing this because the wanted the best for me.

When I was 14 I had to move to San Clemente, California. I had already recently moved temporarily to Texas while a house was made ready for us on the military base. “The house is ready!” my mother had said excitedly, after being on the phone for a few minutes. “It’s time to go back?”

Over my Muss experience I was given the chance to take a trip, not only to the state of Israel, but for a week, to Poland. When in poland, [T1] we came face to face [T2] with the realities of life and death and what our people had gone through, lived through and survived through during world war two. During our first day there, we went and visited a site where thousands of people had been murdered, and where we first spotted the horror. What really surprised us though was that there were towns and cities surrounding the camps and sites. The grey [T3] camps lying right next to these towns were almost invisible to them.

Coming from a low income family, living in a small town in India, I learned early on about struggling and surviving those struggles. I watched my parents working day and night to provide for electricity, pay for our monthly school fees so my sister and I can have a better education, and for the future they wished upon for their children. To further enhance this vision, my father decided for the family and I to immigrate to the US. Everything was different in the sense that I changed schools, learned a new language, had to make new friends, and learned the different culture. I had to adapt to a whole new world, which was a little difficult at 6 years old

Moving to a new country can be difficult sometimes. Leaving all my relatives and friends back home was the saddest thing for me. My mother told me that we were moving to a new country. At first, I thought my mother was joking about it. but little did I know that she was telling the truth.

When I was only a couple of months old my mom and I were stuck in an airport due to delayed flights. The only luggage we had was my diaper bag and a backpack full of baby toys. I was miserable and cranky the whole entire time which didn’t make my mom feel better. At the time I had no idea what was going on but now that will be stamped in my memories forever.