Venezuela Is Just Another Chapter

It has been 11 years since we have arrived to Los Angeles, California. I can still remember the feeling of when my father had said to us that he we would be moving to a far place to try to find better jobs for my mother and him because with the two jobs my father had and the washing and ironing of other peoples clothes my mom did was not bringing enough money to support my sisters and me and did they wanted to provide a better life for my sisters and me. Mexico was such a poor country that my parents could not see themselves make enough money to support my sisters and me, let alone see us get a better education. So my parents decide to migrate to the United States with one of my mother’s brother. We arrived in Los Angeles, California on

The first difference between living in Venezuela and living in the USA is the security. Nowadays, living in Venezuela, is hard work because it has been having so many problems with thefts. There is no control of the situation. People do not feel comfortable staying there because there

Living in two different countries can be a great experience that can change someone's way of thinking. We live in a world with many countries and different types of people, making us compare each other and ask ourselves how is this different or similar. For example, in Brazil, they speak Portuguese, but in Colombia they speak Spanish. That's one difference. Yet, Brazil and Colombia are in the same continent. Now, that's one similarity. In my case, I have lived in Venezuela and in the United States and sometimes I start comparing many things like economy, government, culture, topography, weather, traditions, etc. Many people don't notice how many difference and similarities two countries can have.

Again I was struggling not to let myself down and to learn the concepts of the new country. At first everything was hard; I had a lot of difficulties on all my classes due to the lack of reading and understanding the language. I remember when my 7th grade English teacher handed me the book “A Child Called It” by Dave Pelzer; I was stuck in the first page “I’d never realized so many words existed!”(Malcolm X 432).I kept solving my problems by myself, using the dictionary, searching words on the internet, and comparing some Spanish words with English ones. For some reason I didn’t like when people tried to translate and when the school tried to assign me Spanish tutors. I felt that getting help in Spanish wasn’t any good and it just disrupted my learning. Even though school was hard “I refused to fail. I was smart. I was arrogant. I was lucky.” (Alexie 447).I accomplished my goal of passing 7th grade. During the summer I used to go to the library and read books, because I didn’t understand most of them, and I found reading in English innocuous for the first month. After I got the handle of reading and writing once again, I felt confident of myself, and my life came back to normal.

My entire family was born in Guadalajara, Mexico. After three and a half years of living there my family decided to seek a better future in The United States. My father would go to the United States back and forth to work and earn money to send to us in Mexico. Eventually my mother was able to get a visa and my brother along with my little sister had an alternate way into the United States. We lived in Dallas Texas and Atlanta Georgia before settling in Howard county Maryland in a very small apartment. Luckily we were doing pretty well with my dad being the only one knowing English at the time. My father was working two jobs and I was getting ready to start kindergarten. I was very excited because the education we would have received in Mexico was nothing compared to the education in Howard County. I was excited for what was to come, but there were disadvantages of knowing only Spanish. Being bullied because of my poor English had an impact on me. I was in completely separate classes learning things that were simple compared to the regular course. I was excluded from certain activities, field trips and assemblies. I was clueless at first though as I slowly learned the language I understood things a lot more.

I wrote this book because I been thru it and to let immigrates know they are not alone. it's not easy,it's hard but it's worth it.I am half of America and half of Syrian.Mysource is my life.Everyday people leave their country to move to another country and if they read this book, they remember their country and when I came to America I try to find books that share same feeling.Leaving something or someone is hard, when you truly love someone and they break up with you, you will remember them, they always in your mind.tears will fill your eyes everytime you go bald. home is place we all belong there , is not about how expensive the home is or how money you have or how pretty you are.”I felt a pang -- a strange and inexplicable pang that I had

The first is selfish. As a Venezuelan-American immigrant raised in South Florida, this story is deeply personal. With a chance to return, I will face the reality of life in Venezuela as someone raised in the bubble of Middle Class America. The second though, is selfless. This fellowship inspired the idea of conveying the thoughts, experiences, and challenges of the Venezuelan people to a global audience. Writing this story is a momentous opportunity to speak about my native land to a global audience with familial ties like myself, other seeking clarity on current events, and wandering social media addicts who will quench their curiosity on the National Geographic blog and With Venezuela

My mother, three brothers, two sisters and I began to travel to places to collect all the required documents we needed in order to prepare for our appointment, which was to take place in Ciudad Juarez. I was more than thrilled to go places and tell people I was soon leaving to the United States, because that 's where everyone wanted to go and we were the lucky ones. On the other hand, the rest of them were leaving everything behind – their family and friendships. I didn 't have anything to lose because they were all to me; they had their lives there and now an unexpected letter was taking everything away. The truth is my father had petitioned for us just for the sake of it, thinking we wouldn 't get approved but destiny proved other wise. The plan my parents envisioned was taking this opportunity and returning to Mexico the following year with our residency status

Venezuela, officially known as the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela, is located on the northeastern coast of South America. It is bordered to the east by Guyana, the south by Brazil, and the west by Colombia. The country stakes claim to roughly three hundred and fifty square mile of highly fertile and biodiverse land. As of 2015 the population of the country is estimated to be 29,275,940 (CIA, 2015). Throughout Venezuelan history many unique sociological revolutions have occurred and to understand the present one must appreciate the past.

I was intrigued by these differences in perspective, and attempted to understand why this was occurring. I first asked my parents, as I was only in the fifth grade, and their answer was simply that we were different, and that that wasn’t a bad thing. Feeling displaced, I began to question everything that I did on a regular basis, and if there was a proper manner in which to act for someone in my situation. The constant choice between my Mexican and American identity was always present.

Puerto Rico held many of my most cherished childhood memories. The 3 years my family spent there were some of the best years of my life. I remember the day we arrived there and settled into a hotel to live temporarily. I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t understand my favorite cartoons anymore. A man with a daughter my age took me to school during the first week and I couldn’t understand that man either. My parents explained to me that they spoke Spanish and soon enough in school, I was learning the language.

It all started in kindergarden when I read my first word “O-S-O” which means bear in spanish. The enthusiasm and thrill I felt knowing what I was capable of doing served as a fuel to my eagerness to learn and explore. Throughout my first three years of elementary school in Mexico I continued to academically excel. In first grade I managed to place first out of my class, second grade I placed second and third grade I came back placing first grade. At the beginning of fourth grade I had to leave school and move here to the United States of America being granted a visa. Of all the life experiences I have had I

The year of 2014 late summer I came to America with dreams and hopes, expecting the better for me and my family. I have family that had came before me; however they weren't that respectful for someone that had been living in Mexico their whole life. I used to get put down by the way I looked, talked or how I acted. I recall that they would talk in english about me , and make fun of me , so I wouldn’t understand what they were saying. I have cousins that don't even appreciate all the sacrifices that one as a parent has to make , so they are able to give a better life for their kids. On the good side of the story I would always keep in mind how I came here? thanks to who?and why?. So I realize that I fitted in the Hispanic community by attending to Hispanic events, playing soccer, and cooking hispanic food.

My excuse to everything is “cause I’m Mexican”. I’m not Mexican by citizenship, but by birth. I was born in Berrien Center, Michigan; On Tuesday, January twenty sixth, nineteen ninety nine. My parents’ names are Diana Vasquez Valencia and Alberto Ruiz Hernandez. They raised me with the Mexican culture that I have learned and loved since I was a little girl. So when I say “it’s cause I’m Mexican”, It’s because I didn’t grow up watching John Wayne movies or listening to Johnny Cash. I grew up watching Novelas and listening to Selena. I was raised differently from how everyone else was raised. In the United States, I am strange. In Mexico, I am average. I lived in Michigan until I was about three years old. We moved to Glencoe Minnesota and lived in a trailer home. When I was four I was introduced to the social setting and attended a headstart. It was then, that I realized, I didn’t know how to socialize. I didn’t know what was okay to do and what wasn’t. I was teased and picked on, even by the teachers. About the time when it was my fifth birthday I found out my mom was pregnant with my sister Samantha. My parents decided to move to a bigger house to make room for our growing family, and somehow we arrived in Nicollet. I remember the first time I saw my new home; we were looking at it for the first time, to see if we wanted to buy it. The house was home to a older lady and her many, many cats. It was very strange to see so many animals in one place, since my family never had

venezuela is a country that is not very talked about or mentioned but is very helping to our society today.There was a long line of history and background information about venzuela that that was interesting and more astonishing to write about. The food cuisine in venezuela is very diverse and open to more influences which