Ms. Belfry's Memoir Analysis

It was almost 4am and we had slept in the cold LAX airport on black and while marble floor. Very comfortable and accommodating. At this point a cardboard box on a heating grate in New York would be the Ritz Carlton. Jamie and I stared at each other coldly, hating each other, damp sweat and anxiety poured over us. Silence. We just want to get out of here. "This sucks." Was a common response to our deliriously back and forth conversation as we tried to keep our spirits up.

As the new-comers feel alienated and lost in the Californian landscape, they also find familiar landmarks and conventions. The incorporation of multiple languages in the airport’s intercom system is revealed by the speaker as they say, “Above them in the terminal, voices are repeating, over and over, in Japanese, Spanish, and unintelligible English.” (Iyer 102). Everyone in this airport is coming from all different types of cultures. Each person’s unique perspective on the airport, what they find familiar and what they find foreign, is determined by their own culture.

Kevin grit his teeth. His hands strangled the arms of his blue leather seat that were embroidered with white thread. Fear oozed from every pore within his body. His body tensed as we felt the engine roar, saw the turbines spin, and runway come to life. As the plane’s thrusters kicked in, Kevin shut his eyes, but I didn’t. I stared through my window and watched the runway lights gradually merge into a single line of fluorescent orange. Before I knew it, I was gazing upon Philadelphia, hundreds of feet in the air, illuminated by the light of an afternoon’s sun. Our destination, the Marine Corps Recruiting Depot.

As I walked quickly to the arrivals, my suitcase making skid marks on the terminal floor, I couldn't fathom the thought of waiting another second for this adventure. For what felt like hours of waiting, my aunt had finally picked me up. It was a three and a half hour drive to Mark Twain National Forest and I watched through the window as the sky changed into a colorful painting of pinks and blues. The fresh air of the Midwest ran through my veins and I felt like I was home again.

The nearly seven hour flight, with one stop in Atlanta, was coming to an end. There was only one, alcoholic, beverage that was consumed; a gin and tonic with a lime wedge atop the plastic cup. As the Delta flight descended upon the, inland, landscape of Eastern San Diego County, Johnny began to see rolling hills that were covered with green flora and trees. Now looking straight out, and not directly downward, he embarked on a view of a blue body of water. Now closer to the San Diego Airport, he was a bit startled by how close the city high rises seemed in relation to the airplane, so he, tightly, clutched his arm rests as a natural reaction. As with any new venture in life, he was a bit nostalgic about all the good times he had back home with

“Pack early Abika, and don't forget the family pictures!", my mom spoke in tears as I prepared to depart to America. It was something I couldn’t believe at that moment. I was about to leave my family, my dog and my old friends for a country that I’ve only witnessed through magazines and Home Alone movies. Nonetheless, when the time arrived, I bid my emotional farewells and stepped inside the Boeing 777.

As the flight attendant announces final calls for my plane ticket, I sit anxiously for the plane to depart. The attendee speaks loudly, “Welcome aboard Flight #3102. We will depart from DFW airport and arrive at Bora Bora airstrip in approximately eighteen hours and ten minutes.” My stomach starts to turn. I can hardly wait to arrive in a place that one could only dream about.

It was an early July Morning when me and my family were driving to the airport. I was shaking with excitement when i had my coffee in my left hand and a breakfast burrito in my right hand. Airport gates is all i saw when we arrived to this massive airport with thousands of men, women, and Children flooding to get to the correct Gates in time to their flights. This trip definitely changed me because of the different types of cultures, people, and places that I visited. When i went on this trip i didn’t really know of what other people performed in different places in the country. On the trip I visited California, Oregon, and Washington and all of the cities I visited all were similar in each way.

Having claimed my baggage, looking around at the strange faces, I found a seat and gingerly sat down. Cold and exhausted at midnight in an unknown city, I never had the feeling of being exiled after sixteen hours’ journey from my country to the entirely unfamiliar state because it seemed that the whole world totally changed and the only person who knew me was myself. Starring at every word on the arrival screen and listening to the broadcast carefully, I was afraid that I might miss some important information. Faced with the people here, my brain ran so quickly and could not even say a complete sentence, it seemed to have listening exercises all the time, and I had to focus on people’s dialogue to guess the meaning. It was really striking. To be honest, if I was a stranger, I might not be that kind, and I wondered it was probably the same with Americans because I was just a stranger. However, something warmhearted really happened. And it was the first time when I, as an absolute stranger, witnessed the kindness of the people in America and how it influenced me in my later life.

After two and a half hours of ear clogs and sips from the complimentary sodas, they finally arrived. In San Diego. In San Diego, they had an hour layover, so they had to wait another hour for their plane to get to San Diego. It seemed pretty boring and crowded at San Diego’s airport. The fountain water tasted metallic and just plain bad to Bailey. He almost threw-up! That was probably the most exciting thing that they did at SDX. Finally, their plane had arrived. They put their stuff up again but this time, Bailey sat by his parents so he got to get the window seat. After another plane ride, they had arrived in Cabo San Lucas. Since their flight wasn’t connected to a terminal, they had to walk all the way to the custom baggage claim. The weather

“We are going to be spending christmas in the Chicago Airport!” my mom says. People's bags were squealing on the moist ground of the walkway, as we are getting off the plane. When we got off the plane, are connecting flight had already left. So me and my family all begin to run down to the help desk, and you hear as our footsteps echo down the long walkways. We hear a bell noise and the tram doors open, we all get in and the doors slowly close and then a thump of the old doors shuting, we hold on to the metal handrails and feel the germs just crawling up our hands. Then it set into all of us that we are going to be spending christmas day in the airport.

It was nothing like the airport in Iowa. The airport was packed with different people, and there were so many different signs pointing to so many different places. Mama and I just looked for the exit signs. When we got outside the air was cool and crisp. I heard lots of honks and car engines in the distance and saw so many different people entering and leaving the airport with us. One thing that struck me was the number of people awake at 3:00 am. Why were there so many cars on the streets? Why were there so many lights on in the buildings? What were these people doing at this time in the morning? I asked Mama this, and she said, “Ha, I bet all of the other people awake at this hour are asking the same question about us.” I clutched my necklace tight. Mama got it for me when I was very little. It has a star and a moon. I wear it every day. I looked at it very carefully while Mama was on the phone with the person who is picking us up from the airport. I watched the people walk out of the sliding doors, people of all different hair colors, eye color, and skin color. Most of my friends have dirty blonde hair and brown eyes like me. I wondered about their lives, families, and

Emma held on tight to her passport, nervously staring at the boarding pass in her hand. Shaking impatiently, while waiting for her flight to New York to board. It was Tuesday, September 9th today, it seemed like any other day to Emma, but

Have you ever been looking forward to going on a trip that you had to get on a plane, but at the same time you didn’t want that day to arrive? I know I have, but it was also nerve-racking the first time I went on a trip that required me to get on an airplane. Coming to Miami for me was taking a big step in my life. Knowing that I had to start from scratch in Miami freaked me out. Our trip to Miami wasn’t all easy. Firstly, the trip to the airport was hard on us we had to say our goodbyes to our family members. Also, we arrived to the airport not knowing where we were standing. Finally, we were able to hop on the airplane. The trip that required me to get on an airplane was when I came to Miami from Cuba.

Parker stands just outside of the airport doors with a suitcase beside her, it was awkward for Parker to try and maneuver her way through the airport’s terminal. Every corner and service desk she looked at she would see best friends, families, long distance couples, and sometimes even the lonesome fliers. It was odd being around so many people, but seeing each person with a smile on their face made her even happier to be here.