Viva Cuba! A story of how I came to America
Hi chatty friends! Today I like to share how I came to America. I know what you are thinking. No I did not sailed across the Caribbean ocean or swum with the sharks (yiakes). I actually flew in a plane with my family at the age of 16 and yes my feet were dry. Knowing no English, Sí NADA! I started my last year of high school. My high school in Cuba was very different from the one here in America. My high school in Cuba lacked running water. So my friends and me walked miles out of the school every other day to resource some. We sang songs about love, the moon, the heartbreak and drank 'made up' rice-wine to celebrate our youth despite the adversities. For the first few months in my American high school felt like a daze. High school augmented all my teenagers fears. I felt excluded, misunderstood, ignored, unimportant, and very very depressed. You know those friends from high school that stay forever. Yep those! I still have those from my high school in Cuba...