Personal Narrative: My Journey To Guatemala's Border

When I woke up that morning I was ready to go to Honduras. We stayed in Anthony’s key . Anthony’s key is a beautiful Island resort. I went with my sister, my dad, my mom, My grandpa, and my grandma. We got to do things such as snorkeling, canoeing, and horseback riding. It was a very fun experience for all of us.

My grandmother was born in Guatemala into a struggling family of seven. In Guatemala, kids are often forced to leave school and start working to help provide for their family´s food and shelter. Similarly, my grandmother was not able to complete her education. Instead, she had to take care of her siblings, providing for their basic needs. As she grew up, she had three kids, including my father, and needed to find a way to give them a better life.

My grandparents at the time were living in mexico, they had 5 kids when they decided to cross the border to come into the United States. Back then crossing the guards wasn’t as bad as it is today. My grandpa sent his family with a coyote on a truck which took them to fresno, they got across the border by using someone else's birth certificate, because back then that was enough proof to get by. My grandpa stayed in mexico, he didn't fit in the truck so he had to cross the old fashion way by going through the desert. He told me how hard it was trying to survive out there for 3 days. He explained how there was no water and he had to drink his pee. For food he killed snakes and whatever he found out there. He was so close to giving up out there but luckily a

The classic saying, “There’s always someone who has it worse than you” (Shaggy- Keepin’ it Real), didn’t come true to me until I had first-hand experience. As a child, I grew up in the lower middle class. So I wasn’t rich nor super poor. My mother came to the United States from El Salvador in the 1980’s. She has never taken my brother and me to her home country.

As I stepped out of the airport, followed by my family, I was unprepared for the snowfall and icy pavement that is so commonplace in January in Michigan. If I had thought enough about it, I would have worn winter boots on the plane and maybe brought my puffy white coat to block the wind. Instead, I stood shivering in brand new, pink ballet-flat shoes, while snowflakes filled my eyelashes.

December 2008 marks the initial start to the devastating and gruesome cartel drug war in Mexico that has led to the deaths of over 80,000 people. In the midst of this war, violence has surged dramatically in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, an area seen by many as a point of contention in the lucrative drug smuggling business that stems from Mexico and flows into the United States. As a result of the recent outbreak of violence, it has been difficult to accept the fact that my mother and sister cross the border every weekend from El Paso to Ciudad Juarez to go visit family knowing they are at risk of being taken hostage or even worse, getting killed by the cartel. My father has also experienced these life-threatening occurrences

The time I crossed the border was in the summer all around me there was dirt and I was with a group of young people. We were scared because if we got caught we would be sent back home to our countries. At one point immigration crossed our paths and we had to run as fast as we could I looked behind me and saw that one of my friends had fell and sprained their leg, I could see that one official was getting closer I panicked but helped my friend to their feet and supported them. Thankfully we made it to the other side.

Populations are contained within borders, whether they are physical fortifications or a concept of invisible territorial borders, in order to maintain a nation united and out of problems—is what most of the inhabitants idealize. The well-known border between Mexico and the United States has not only expanded but has also raised many doubts. Urban myths have misled many individuals to think positive about the extensive fence that separates two countries. One popular and recent myth that many people from United States feed off of is that Mexico sends problems, and by building a bigger walls will stop the flow of problems. I myself, am an immigrant from Guadalajara, Jalisco, a rich in culture state; nonetheless, I have lived three-fourths of my life in Modesto, California. I personally have been through the Mexican border several times.

When I was 4 years old, my mother decided to send me and my siblings to live with our grandparents in Honduras. I was born in Long Beach, CA, USA, however, my mother was struggling to give us a better life working as a housekeeper, and it wasn’t until I was 12 years old that we were reunited in New York. Nevertheless, my mother’s sacrifice to send my siblings and me to her country was indeed positive; hence, today am bilingual and have respect for diversity.

“Mangos, mangos, 3 Quetzales !!”. This is the first thing I heard and saw on my trip to Guatemala this past summer. I saw a 9 year old barefoot boy struggling to walk through the busy streets of Guatemala carrying a woven basket that contained ripe and bright orange mangos inside of it. I turned around to my dad and said, “Dad look!! Oh my gosh!! Shouldn’t he be in school?”. My dad always told me about Guatemala and the continuous struggles that he and others faced on a daily basis when he lived there. For the first time I actually saw what my dad talked to about with my very own eyes. What I was seeing was crystal clear and not what I hoped to be a dream.

It was a Monday in the summer of 2015. I was riding in an old 11 passenger van with 30 other people, on our way back from playing soccer. Most of the people were Guatemalan children screaming at the top of their lungs as the van rocked side to side as we drove up a narrow, winding, mountain road without guide rails. In the summer of 2015, I went to Guatemala for ten days, on a mission trip. My team (18 youth and pastors of East Side Church of God) and I visited four different Indian vilages: Chupol, Paquisis, Sacbichol, and Agua Escondita. We spent two days in each village and slept in each village’s church.

Hi there! I’m 19 years old and I’m a freshman in college. I live in the border of the Mexico and the US therefore my mom would take me to Mexico to see my family, some friends of hers and be able to know our culture. One of our many traits of being Mexican is treating everyone like family. I met this older girl and we would often visit her. Eventually we became a family out of love and care for each other.

The question of why here and not there, was something that I answered 6 years ago. In order to answer that question a series of childhood memories have to start fade in my mind. My life is separated into two geographic locations. The first 16 years of my life traced back to a small town located on the outside mountains of Guatemala City. I grew up in a third world country and throughout my life saw the struggles of my family and community members. Guatemala is a country of many contrasts,is located in the heart of America, is not in either on the North or the South, is the navel of the continent. The country is culturally rich and full of wildlife. Although Guatemala is a green paradise, that possesses a great architectural heritage of the

We started off with a bang. We started with me thinking of what to do how to do it and what were my ideas. Then, a little later we actually started it and not gonna lie, it was scary. I didn’t know that much about my family, yeah i've heard stories but they're stories. Later on we went home i didn’t tell my family anything just unsuspiciously getting all the information and I learned a lot yes. I learned about my names and why they're my names, I learned about my dad getting lost a lot, I learned about my mom moving here to america when she was 14 and how her life was before she moved and why she moved. I learned about my uncle going to jail for crossing the border illegally which is kinda funny. All those I learned but i couldn’t find anything

As soon as I return to my country I will start to pursue a career in the government sector, specifically The Security Secretariat of Honduras. At the present time, Honduras heads the list of countries in the world where there are more violence and crimes that cause thousands of deaths per year without been in an actual war. Most of the crimes and murders get focus in two of its major cities, San Pedro Sula and Tegucigalpa, this last one is where I live. Many of these crimes are planned and executed by the authorities that were supposed to provide security to the citizens and this is because they are linked to racketeering. This a major cause of immigration and the decrease of the foreign investment. This is what I want to change, I would use