Narrative Essay About Moving To America

As a child, the world to me was a place with elusive networks of dirt roads. The small, dirty, square shaped, concrete houses provided shade and comfort from the heat that bounced off the streets causing a mirage of wavering images. The streets were filled with honks from countless motorcycles and rickshaws. Hearing similar dialogues and accents as the people argued for cheaper pomegranates from the food stands located at the corner of the streets. This place of dirt networks, flat-roofed houses, and loud, crowded streets was where I grew up. It was the identity and the entire world to my young 7 year old self. It was no surprise that I had uncountable number of questions lined up for my parents when my they told me about our immigration to the United States of America. Although I was too young to understand the impact of moving to foreign country, the news of moving to America did create an uneasy feeling for me. Whether I was going to miss playing cricket in the school yard or regularly going to the store across the school with my cousins to buy ambli, a soury-sweet candy, I knew that I was going to miss my home and my friends and family. In order to comfort me, I remember my grandmother handing me a Barbie doll and explaining how “they look like this there”; Blue-eyed, skinny women with milky colored hair. …show more content…
On the first day of the new school, I found out that I had a French art teacher. An Asian girl sat at the lunch table in front of me eating chicken and rice. Nothing was like I had imagined and feeling isolated, I saw this Indian boy playing on the slides. Feeling like I had finally found someone I can relate to, I ran towards him and asked him if I could play with him, in Gujarati. He responded “I don’t know what you’re saying”. Turned out he was