preview

Personal Narrative Analysis

Decent Essays

“Nosotros tienes cinco, y,” I say as I point to Jordalisa and Raoul, “Tienes siete!” By some act of God, my heavily broken Spanish is somehow understood by Angelina, who gasps as she realizes that her friends are trying to cheat us at Go Fish. She reaches forward and yanks the extra two cards out of Jordalisa’s hand to even the playing field again. We are playing in teams of two because as the only person who doesn’t speak Spanish in the open-air room, I need remedial assistance. We are in a poor suburb of Santo Domingo, the capital city of the Dominican Republic; I am playing cards with the neighborhood kids and questioning my decision to take French in high school. Everyone else in my group is showering off the layers of sweat, sunscreen,

Get Access