Personal Narrative: My Trip To Mexico

at the orphanage, I was able to help build a sidewalk and a garage for

While going to college I got to have the experience of a lifetime. Myself, and a group of 15 others went on a mission trip to New Orleans, Louisiana. We all got to see many cultural differences and help people in need. Helping people in need just

A little over a year ago, I had to make the decision of choosing between two different trips. I could either go to Spain with the Spanish class and see all that the country has to offer, or I could visit Haiti with the church and give my time to help out around their community. Many factors weighed in on my decision, but in the end, I chose to travel to Haiti!

Every year I go to Mexico, during spring break and summer. It's always relaxing laying on the beach or going on a nice refreshing swim in the 70 degree water. It was an average day down in mexico during the summer of 2017; I remember my family and I relaxing at home after a long day on the boat. I was feeding the street dog because I could tell she was either having puppies, or already had puppies. She was starving to death, her ribs were showing, I knew I had to help her. I started feeding her three times a day so she could start producing milk if she’s already had the puppies; or so she could keep the puppies healthy while she was still pregnant. A few days later I walked outside to feed her, and I hear whimpering like the sound newborn puppies

My eyes reveal my story. Although I was born in the United States, my Mexican heritage shines through my hazel eyes. I am proud of both my American and Mexican identity. My Grandparents on both sides immigrated from Mexico to Southern, California before my parents were born. In our home, we celebrate our Mexican culture through cooking traditional meals and celebrating traditional holidays, such as Día de los muertos. My Family creates an altar decorated with candles, flowers, colorful trimmings and offerings for our loved ones who have passed. I feel fortunate my Mexican heritage is intertwined with my American identity.

This summer I went on a mission trip to Minnesota, and it changed my life. I got to strengthen my relationship with God and my friends, all the while serving a community. While I was there, I was tested a few times, but my view of life was permanently affected. If I was asked to leave tomorrow for another trip, I wouldn’t even hesitate to go.

My service learning activity took place overseas on a small island named Haiti. I took the trip with Sister Victoria and five other people. In my short time there I grew a deeper appreciation for all that we have here in the United States. For instance, clear water, readily accessible medical resources, and so much more. Additionally, to a growing deeper appreciate, my team and I did a lot of activities there to help the community of Jacmel. For example, we visited several orphanages within the surrounding communities and helped with meal preparations, feedings, and ADLs. In addition to visiting orphanages, we also had the opportunity to work in the clinic where myself and the rest of our team helped with taking vital signs, general assessments, and wound care. Furthermore, we had the opportunity to visit several hospitals and clinics are were able to drop off medical supplies that the hospital/clinic needed. Lastly, we accompanied Sister Margaret to do home health visits in nearby neighborhoods.

During our brief trip, we were able to accomplish much. We led a camp for teens and twenty-somethings. There, we gave bibles, socks and hats to everyone who attended (it gets surprisingly cool there). One of the campers was in a worn-out wheelchair, and we were able to replace that for him.

When I was younger, we would go to Mexico every year. My Grandpa would always give us a bag of our favorite candy. The day when we would leave to go to Mexico, I would stay up late and look at the beautiful view of every city we went through. I would sleep so late that it would make me think that we would be in Mexico already. The city that I really like was Oklahoma City, when I saw all the tall buildings. When we were driving we went under the highway bridges, and I always thought that it would break, because there would be semi- trucks that are driving on it. I would always close my eyes and pray that it would not collapse on us. We would always stop in Pearsall, Texas and stay at the same hotel. I would always happy to go to the hotel because

A traditional taste from Mexico on a single dish causes my mouth to water. Crunchy tacos topped with salsa leaves a stinging after taste that only beans and rice quench the best. Soft grains of rice flavored by chicken broth and tomatoes cause me to crave more crunch and another cool down, but this time, by creamy refried pinto beans.

I can’t remember how old I was when I knew my father was a drug addict. It was just something I’ve always known. The moment it really sunk in was when we went to Mexico. I was so excited, it was my first trip out of the country, I was in third grade and it was cold here in Missouri, I needed a new swimsuit and I remember how hard it was to track one down out of season.

Being in second grab and getting asked to go on a trip to Mexico to help people not in the same economic state as me, was terrifying. I didn’t want to go to a place I didn’t know, I didn't want to be with people who I didn't know well, and I definitely didn’t want to go on a plane! All of the “no’s” pulled into my head as my parents tried to convince me to go on a trip that would “change my life.” I made excuse after excuse while we sat there talking, and finally the courage clicked, and I would soon be off on a trip of a lifetime.

“When you get out of the airplane please call us, ok?” This was the third time my mother had said this. My sister and I kissed our parents goodbye and we headed towards the airport. I couldn't believe I was actually going to Mexico. I’ve never been to Mexico before. I was finally going to meet my grandparents, my aunts, my uncles, and my cousins.

It was a tradition to go to Mexico every year or every other year. We would spend time with family and friends, but unknown to me it would be the last time a see my grandmother. We own a small store in Mexico and it was run by my grandmother. I knew she was sick but I didn’t know it was that bad. She looked great for the time we were there but 1 week or so after we left to come back to the U.S she died. It took the people around her to realize that she was gone. She was inside the house and has been dead for 3 days before discovering her.

As my eyes lit up like the fourth of July, I stood with my feet stuck to the ground, and my nerves tingle with happiness because of how marvelous it was. I didn't know a Mexico resort could be so nice.