The Chronicles

November rain

I was a cold Sunday; I walked to the front door just to find out that it was raining. I was late for church so I didn’t go back to find an umbrella.

It was cold, and it was almost raining. The fall was almost over; there were no more yellow leaves in the trees.

I was walking to the train station while admiring the mountains and the dieing trees. It wasn’t pleasant.

I was the only person walking in the street. I was the only person standing in the solitary train station. My nose started to get red and I could see my own breath.

Suddenly, I remembered the first day I put a step in the United States of America.

I remembered really well, and the weird thing is that I never thought about it before.

For some reason I could see it in my mind like it was yesterday.

My last day in Argentina (November 2003)

Before I jumped on the plain in Buenos Aires, I said goodbye to my mom, my dad and my older brother. They were all crying.

I didn’t cry, I didn’t want to make it harder for them. So I didn’t cry at all.

Airport in Buenos Aires

After I enter to the hall that went to the plane I exploded… I cried like never before. But before I boarded the plane I stopped did a last look behind me and then kept walking forward.

The first look of the US from the air was wonderful; I could see all the lights of Florida from the plane.

My first day in the US

Before I walked out of the plane that brought me from Argentina I wanted to look good so I put on me my new blazer my mom bought for me before I left. “Here is hot, but there is cold” she said.

I was scared; it was the first day of my “new” life completely different from what hours ago was my “old” life.

The security people were really nice to me, and I was happy because I understood everything they said.

It took me a while to find the right way to the plane that went to Salt Lake City.

I was amazed and overwhelmed about how huge the Atlanta Airport was. They have a subway over there!!!

New Culture
When I finally found the right place I sat in the waiting area and kept looking to at the other people who were waiting to go to Salt Lake City… Maybe one of them would talk to me. (I thought everyone in Utah was like the missionaries)

Two big women (a daughter and her mom I assumed) were sitting right in front of me. They were two white, blond, big, big women and they were eating fried chicken (which I found very unusual)

They were eating like if they were in a restaurant or even their own house. They were using their hands!!! Their hands were greasy, their face were greasy… it was a mess.

If I see something like that now I wouldn’t find it weird at all, but then I was shocked.

And then I remember telling myself, “This is going to be hell of a ride Hernan”

(Posted in melastome.blogspot.com in November 11, 2007)