Personal Narrative: My Trip To El Salvador

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.

I’ve always thought of myself as a person who has a interesting background and childhood. My childhood would consist of fails, near death experiences, and anything crazy or out of the ordinary from other people’s childhoods. Most of my days would consist of going to school, seeing something amazing or crazy, go home, and do homework. Occasionally, I would go to the park where i would explore new places or just walk around and try to make new friends. Most of the time, I would just explore my surroundings and enjoy nature as much as I can. Whenever I would go to El Salvador, I would walk around in big forest and enjoy how fresh the air is. The air over in the countryside is pure and makes you feel at peace due how low the co2 levels are in

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.

I was born in a small town called Sesori in the country of El Salvador. El Salvador lays in the global south and it is extremely crime infested. I came to the United States of America when I was a small child; however, growing up in El Salvador allowed me to witness many of my neighbors and family members suffer from insufficient access to medicine. Knowing this has made me become a hardworking individual who acknowledges the opportunities and blessing that the United States offers its people. I wish to one day become a Neonatal Nurse Practitioner and activist for woman's protection all around the world through an international humanitarian non-governmental organization called Médecins Sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders). I want to help individuals worldwide where the need is greatest. The world is in need of help with the

I had already moved once to a different country where, from my point of view at eleven years old, the culture and the people were strange. The change from Cuba to Mexico had been difficult and adapting to their traditions and their dialect had been challenging, but I was able to adjust to this new place. It wasn’t bad, moving from my birth country to Mexico had taught me to observe the world in a different perspective and while struggling to adapt I learned a lot about myself.

This question drove me back to high school. I attended a military school back from my home country, Ecuador, we only where surrounded by males. It was not difficult for me to cope, because I was in my comfort zone. However, I moved to New York City 10 years ago and I am still in the process of adaptation. I am still seeking to develop coping skills to adapt to my new environments, work, school, friends. Similar, I wanted to fit in and I seek for people that look, think and come from my same backgrounds. But, I did not give myself the opportunity to look for other friends. I even isolated myself. Once I started to give the chance to other people I got in trouble, because they want to use you, people want to take advantage of you one way or another,

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.

What was the process of my conversion like? I’ll begin with this year, all the way back to my trip in Guatemala. I struggled to understand what belief was and what being a follower of Christ really was. I was trying to understand the faith with my own intelligence, which constantly failed me. On top of that I was living without morals, saying, doing, and thinking whatever I pleased. This all, plus sickness, made my trip to Guatemala very challenging. As the year went on I still tried to live in Christ on my own will, which isn’t living in Christ at all. I would read his word but only some days instead of every day. What I didn’t realize is that I need his word every day. Because this world is evil and unclear, but his word gives ultimate clarity.

Imagine a time where you were at your lowest, a time in your life that nothing seemed to make

My father had cardiac problems. He used to Nicaragua. I was eleven when he suffered a stroke. Immediately my brother toke him to the hospital but there was not a cardiologist not a neurologist available. The only neurologist available was in Managua the capital which is approximately four hours away from Jinotega It was too late when we arrived to Managua he had passed away. Three hours later he started breathing .That was defiantly miracle. My father had an intestinal surgery two weeks after. Then he returned back to the U.S. My Father couldn’t move half of his body and he was losing weight. He saw the doctor and they found out that, Nicaraguan surgeon mistakenly left a small residue of a contaminated gauge in his body due to that my father

What’s it like being in Guatemala? What’s it like being on a plane? I asked these questions to myself. On June 29, 2012 I had the opportunity to find answers to these questions, however in a way that I wished would have not happened. My reason for going to Guatemala wasn’t to rest and have fun. It was for my grandpa’s funeral, a day that changed me forever. A day where I learned what it really means to be grateful.

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.

I am not a traditional student who, after high school graduation, is sent to the university to become a professional. I did not have that privilege. Due to life circumstances, I was forced to work to help my mother, who is a single mother, to support my little sister and my older brother who still lives in my native country, El Salvador. To clarify, he had medical problems when he was born and had to be submitted to multiple surgeries when he was little. Reason why, nowadays, he utilizes a wheelchair to move around and takes daily medicines to keep his sugar levels normal. In addition, medical expenses are cheaper in El Salvador than in this country. Even though I am in the work field already and I am a potential employee to be promoted to

time to go to the gate and wait there for the plane to board. But instead of an hour wait there was about a two to three hour wait because a delay in the planes. We boarded about eleven o’clock and once we boarded everyone on the team was out, getting their rest for the week in El Salvador.