Personal Narrative Essay: My First Trip To The Home

I could almost taste the scent of the humid summer air on a bright, early afternoon. The day was hot, and mosquitoes flew here and there, collecting deep, red droplets on which to feed. I could hear the fanfare of cicadas welcoming us. My family and I were all exhausted, having just arrived from a long, unforgettable plane ride. My dad’s hands gripped my own as we approached the gate that separated us from our destination. This was my first visit to my parents’ homeland, Vietnam.We were greeted by my paternal grandmother and shown in to take a small tour around the house where we would be staying. While walking inside, I first noticed a kitchen, then I took a right entryway into a living room. North of the living room was a dining room with a large window covered with silky off-white colored curtains.
Looking out the window, I noticed that the day was reaching its end. To the left of the living

I saw them waving and crying and started to cry as well. I ran over to hug them and say goodbye once more. Seeing their faces again made me not want to leave, but slowly moved away, constantly looking back and forth and waving until I was forced to board the plane. I took a window seat next to my sister. My parents and brother sat in the middle seats. The plane started up as we fastened our seatbelts and began to fly higher and higher into the sky. As I was taking out my mp3 player to listen to music, something inside of me told me not to. It was a bright afternoon as I took one last look at the distancing land beneath me and thought to myself how this trip had been such an enlightening experience for me, how it changed the way I thought about the lifestyles of other people and how I should be grateful for what I have. The land slowly disappeared into the misty clouds as I began the long plane ride back home from an unforgettable