Personal Narrative: American Lifestyle And Culture

Studying in a foreign country is an interesting experience of an individual lifetime. One tends to learn a number of things relating to ways of life in a foreign land. Social, political and economic values and aspects are usually different from one region to another. Therefore, through studying abroad one is able to learn different issues about another society such as gender and sexuality issues, social class and race/ethnicity issues. Having come from a developing country studying in the U.S.A has been a great experience personally. This paper will attempt to provide a reflection of my personal experience on studying in the U.S by comparing the history of Angola and the U.S.

Growing up in Ghana, I had heard a lot of things about the U.S. This was a country I had always wanted to visit; my prayer was answered when I got the opportunity to travel there. Arriving in a new environment came with many experiences. Adjusting with food, language and the weather was not easy. With the passage of time, however I have been able to0 adjust and fit it. This write-up therefore is to elaborate on my experiences since coming to U.S.

I didn’t believe in aliens until I was abducted by them. I was put in some kind of contraption and I’m not sure what happened exactly, but it’s clear that I’m not where I was. Everything in 2016 is different, I don’t know if I’m in a different state or not but people are dressing differently and acting differently, and the cars, the cars are all different! I’ve been here for quite some time now and have noticed a lot of differences from where I lived in Oceanside, California in 1940. I’ve been transported to the year 2016 and there are so many things that have changed and evolved and among them are political, economic, social, and cultural changes.

Johnnie, Veronica, Frank et al. do me a solid with all your “knowledge” and “wokeness” step outside your educational privilege and support systems for a minute. I in no place in my post said anything about America being perfect so what you did was hijack a status about the solidarity I feel for the people in my life and in this country who very much will struggle with an intensified troubling life experience in the country to PROVE you have some kind of exceptional wokeness or understanding of America. MISS me with it. No America was not safe for everyone but we just did was extend the people who it was unsafe for. If that’s cool with you then carry on with your bullshit. I have NEVER EVER said it’s a safe place for everyone. I have NEVER

I would like to see who could survive as long he did with just books that state some facts. We all have this idea that we could do better then anyone else. For example, the elections are coming up. Numerous people believed that Barack Obama was a lousy president and can not wait to see him leave. The same people also say how they would be a much better president than him. I have no idea how to run a country with millions of people in it and I have a very high suspicion that others who aren’t in politics no either. Just like this not everyone is an expert on how to survive in Alaska.

One day I was sitting in English class doing my work. Then a flying whale flew into the wall and destroyed it. It flew over to me and swallowed me whole. It then just flew back to the ocean. While in the whale's stomach I saw some interesting things like a dead person, a needle with steroids in it, a few soccer balls, a rabbit, and a roll of duct tape. After I had been in the whale's stomach for about 3 hours, it started to shake violently. Then something was squeezing the life out of the whale. All of the sudden i was flying through the air along with everything else. I landed on some sort of island.

Walking, walking, and more walking. Today is the day that we begin traveling to Fiume to board a steamship to this place called America. My family doesn't have a lot of money so we can't afford a ride to the port. I only have one pair of shoes and they have many holes in them. We've walked for what seems like an eternity or at least to me. Today is very bittersweet. We're leaving the only place I've ever called home to live in a place we've never seen before. IM not ready to leave. I love Italy but I know it is no longer safe for me, my mom, and my dad. I'm only six years old but I'm old enough to know this could be all a lie. What if America isn't so amazing? What if we done make it? What if we get sent back? So many questions and not

Living in America gives us many freedoms and many blessings. I started my life in the Ukraine. This situation or circumstances I do not know. I came to America when I was 18 months old. A nice family, who lived in America, changed my life by adopting me. Being an

That’s basically all I could understand as I left the immigration center. People all around me were talking in languages I had only studied in textbooks, which barely helped. That was the first time I could really look around and see where I was. The sound of car engines roared in my ears as I walked across the street; people squashed into a small bus while chattering in a garbled language that made no sense. Everywhere I looked I saw chaos, and I couldn’t have been happier.

Living in America has its ups and downs. The different culture and people is what makes America to me. Every day I learn something new while I go to school in America. Personally, as the days go back I carless about humanity and more about myself and how to improve myself. Money has become a major need for me recently and I don’t believe in love anymore. Sometime I just sit and think what kind of person I be like if I keep living in America. I’m happy I can here for school, I don’t think I would know this must about life. And as the days pass by I learn so much more about myself that it makes me question if I ever knew anything to begin with. Unfortunately, I still wonder what life would have been like if I did my college education in Nigeria.

Living in the United States shaped my character. When I was young my family moved from refugee. In the beginning life was tough getting adjusted to the american life. At a young age I understood that some people looked down upon me because of my background. I had a hard time getting along with other students because of cultural clash. After a while I was able to understand the American culture. My mom was a single parent with six other children and the only place we could find to live in was a neighborhood that was not safe. My mother would never allow us to go outside because she was afraid that we would get in trouble. It was not until college that I was able to understand all I was missing out in the world.

When I was three months old, my parents requested my uncle to deliver me to my grandparents in China; my uncle was the stork and I was the baby. Although I was born in the states, my childhood was far from a typical Chinese-American girl. Instead of an alarm clock, I had a rooster. My grandfather drove me to preschool every day on a motorcycle, and after school I would come home to my grandmother planting seedlings in the endless field of rice paddies across from our house. On the weekends I would run through the Majong house to the snack shop where I would be nit picky about all the candies to decide which one was worthy of my five cents. I had completely assimilated into this culture, this childhood. Until the day that my dad stepped foot

Coming from a Pacific Island 6,540 miles away, keeping the Tongan culture alive all the way in Portland Oregon has not been the easiest challenge to take on. Being the second generation to be here in America, the balance of living our culture, yet receiving the lifestyle of an average American has clashed constantly. My parents rules were so different to what other people had that I could not help but feel as if I was different from others.I was not allowed to sleepover at friends’ houses and my brothers had to be in separate levels than us after a certain age (meaning they’d be downstairs while I would sleep along with my other sisters upstairs). All of these rules were made to help me learn one important concept, respect; respect for your

My first letter from my pen-pal came in the fall of 2000. It was terse, which I had assumed to be a product of the culture there. My pen-pal introduced herself as June, and said she was excited to learn about what America was like. My reply was understandably pretentious, as I sought to impress my brand new foreign friend with boasts about the food, the sports, the invariably superior American culture. June and I exchanged letters back and forth well into the winter. My letters were wordy and overdone; her’s displayed a taciturn personality that I struggled to understand.

Like many less-informed Saudis, after high school I adopted an already existing paranoia of studying. In 2007, studying in America was kind of a no-no (since) after the events of 9/11. I was exposed to the American culture because of many factors. Therefore, I was unusual in that I had an immediate goal, as many young people around my age (without any) had no such constructive aim. Saudis in 2007, did not want to go abroad, so I was one of few people. It’s only become a (recent) trend recently to study abroad. I had no plan nor a back-up plan as to what I should do on my return (“what after return”,). Perhaps we Saudis never thought about tomorrow (religiously thinking), for a Muslim is never advised to bother to think about tomorrow (like) as (it) is written also in the Bible (the book of Christians). My