I have the advantage of being two nationalities, Trinidadian and Haitian. This past summer I had the opportunity to explore each of them. I was six years old when I left Trinidad to come to the United States. Sometimes, when I try to remember the country of my birth I just have a blank memory of it. I always told myself when I got older, I would go back home for a visit. I already accomplished my goal of visiting Haiti, where my mother was born. Trinidad was next on my list, since I became tired of my mother as well as other family members telling me about the beauty of Trinidad. This past summer was a beautiful and exciting memory that never will be forgotten. Never forget where your nature is rooted, because those who are of different cultures enrich our society, making our world exciting.
Every time my grandmother and I spoke, she always asked me "Boy wenya gonna come home"? And I tell her "soon come". Trinidadians speak broken English, almost like Jamaicans, but much clearer. Finally the day to leave for Trinidad came on August 1st. I decided to go by myself so I can learn about the country, spending time with old friends and family. It was a personal visit; it had been eighteen years since I returned home. It felt like a reunion with a loved one. I was up for two days counting down the time until my trip. The night before my flight it felt like the night before the first day of high school, I was so anxious for the day to begin. I planned my outfit and was very serious getting about ready for my trip. My dream finally came true because, although I have a lot of relatives in Trinidad, I'm closest to my grandmother and it has been four years since I last saw her. The excitement was rushing through my veins. I was set to go and my eyes were blood shot red from the lack of sleep the past two days. It was time to escape my hectic work-filled days in Spring Valley and enter a new relaxed environment of a tropical paradise for one whole month. I took off at 5:00 pm and took a much needed nap during the five hour flight.
I always live as a Guatemalan for the last 15 years, it was hard when I had to move from my country to another that was very different than mine and find out that in this new country is a different languages and different cultures. Maybe for the first time that I was walking to the school, I feel like I was in Guatemala people with the same skin color as me, but when I heard them talked I heard a new word, different accents and I realized that everything was chance.
As individual thinks the world to be diverse, often we take for granted unknown cultures. At times, most minority cultures is view as one thing whereas the ethnicity is multifaceted. Historically we used assumptions, not evidence, to equate cultures with social identities (Handwreker, 2002, p107. Society usually dismissed individuality of cultural and tend to put everyone with similar background in the same category. Recognition cos ethnic group has to rely on each other to voice out opinion on the matter and educated the history of personal culture.
As my family and I walked into the plane, we were excited. The plane ride to jamaica stopped in L.A. and, after that, it went to jamaica. When we arrived in Jamaica it was really hot, but it was wet. I immediately took off my sweater I was wearing on the plane. We took a bus to our hotel. Then we started swimming in the water park. Every night there was a show in the main stage. The next day we woke up early to go to chukka. It was awesome. We saw a great house, rode on horses, and did a challenge course. After we came back from Chukka, we went to the water park and swimming pool at the hotel. Then we ate at fresh, which we went most of the time. The next day we woke up earlier to go to the dolphin cove. The bus was an hour late, but the wait
Born in Costa Rica, and having been obliged get accustomed to three different countries and cultures before the age of 18, my father is very diverse. He experienced Hispanic customs in San Jose, became familiar with the Haitian nation in Port-au-Prince, and discovered the American way of life in Kansas. For that reason, today, he is always eager to discover
I classify my race, ethnicity, and culture as a white, Irish-Italian- American, woman. My mother was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland and my paternal grandparents are from Sicily, Italy. I imagine being first generation Irish and second generation Italian helps me relate with my ethnicity.
As a Haitian immigrant, my parents and I would spend our family vacations in our hometown of Port-au- Prince, Haiti. I would enjoy participating in family activities such as card games, cooking, and just the quality time that we spent together. We could play these games and laugh amongst each other for hours, without a care in the world merely telling jokes and listening to the elder parables. Amongst my family I felt untouchable. Like a tree in the wind, my only cares were that of the breeze and the beauty of my foundation. In the sway of the wind I was overcome with a sense of peace.
As I stepped off the plane, the warm tropical hues encased my body and sent a jolt of energy through my heart like I had just taken over 20 espresso shots. The first feeling I remember as I took my first steps onto the ground was comfort. I was home, the motherland, Puerto Rico. Excitement stirred in my mind and a feeling of peculiar longing for a place I did not grow up in and did not remember was oddly satisfied. My parents smiled like they were seeing a lover coming back from war, and that feeling was as contagious as the black plague. The island fever had entered my system and I was infected, the treatment was simply to take everything in and don’t hold back.
We got off from plane and headed towards the exit. My cousins and my family case worker were already their waiting for us. I was so shocked and the same time I was so happy to meet with my cousins after 6 years. This days too when I went to airport reminds me of that day. We collect bags and headed towards my cousin’s house, I was so hungry and I asked my cousin “what kind of food you made” she knew that we love Nepali cosine so she had made Nepali cosine. We ate food after that I went upstairs to rest. I was so excited and little bit scared to be here and start my new life in USA because I knew that USA life is different than Nepalese life style, however that day was my best day ever in my life. I felt like my dream came true. I had a lot of things going through my mind. Like what am I going to do, what is best for me things like
It was time for us to leave and board the plane to America. I was very excited to get to America, I was also anxious to see my Dad who I haven’t seen in months. The flight was long, I can remember in the air was my first time feeling turbulence, whoa let me tell you it was a scary one it felt like the plane was about to crash. I was anxious for the plane to land. When we arrived we exited out the plane and head out to the train inside the airport in order to go to U.S. customs and border protection, to get our documents sorted out, so that we could enter the country.
I went back to visit, very recently, last summer. It was a blast not only because I went to a bunch of places that I had never been before, but because I was able to immerse myself completely into their culture and at the same time learn about the
My culture identity, as I know it as is African American. My culture can be seen in food, literature, religion, language, the community, family structure, the individual, music, dance, art, and could be summed up as the symbolic level. Symbolic, because faith plays a major role in our daily lives through song, prayer, praise and worship. When I’m happy I rely on my faith, same as when I’m sad, for I know things will get better as they have before.
The year was 2015. My parents had planned to take me on a family vacation, I was told pack for “somewhere tropical”. I’m thinking The Bahamas, Jamaica, Dominican Republic, or possibly Mexico. The first thing I did was drive to the mall and buy my so-called cabana clothes which are crushed linen pants, a clean white linen shirt, and of course the style of the era the famous bucket hat. It was officially the day to leave and we are on our way to the airport at 4 in the morning to catch a flight to “somewhere tropical” according to my parents. Anxious to finally be at the gate I am speeding through the airport terminal to get to my gate and see where my plane was taking off to. Come to find out your boys going to Viva La Mexico, the excitement floods my body and I begin to picture me laying on the beach with a sprite in hand or riding jet skis through the pristine waters of the Caribbean.
It was about two years ago when I arrived in United States of America, and I still remember the day when I left my native country, Honduras. As I recall, one day previous to my departure, I visited my relatives who live in San Pedro Sula. They were all very happy for me to see me except my grandmother Isabel. She looked sad; even though she tried to smile at all times when I was talking to her, I knew that deep inside of her, her heart was broken because of my departure the next morning. I remember that I even told her, “Grandma, do not worry about me, I’ll be fine. I promise that I will write you letters and send you pictures as much as possible.” Here reply was, “I know sweetie I know you will.” Suddenly after she said that I started to cry. For som...
Discussing these thoughts with my group members helped me learn about new cultures and helped them out as well. One of the ladies in my group spoke about herself, because she was from Puerto Rico. She had a lot to say about the cultures. She also experienced culture shock due to the climate and the individualistic life in America. She said that the weather in Puerto Rico was tropical and i...
Even before arriving to the United States, the fear I felt was not having the familiarity of home (St. Lucia). Moving to the U.S meant that I had to start my life all over again. This time it would be without the unwavering support of my family and friends. Whether I succeeded or failed in school was entirely up to me. It wa...