My life in the US began in the early months after turning 17, very immature, ignorance, and socially inadequate. My family, along with hundreds other families, settled down in a specific barrack that was assigned to us, at Indian Town Gap in Pennsylvania. We had a small room, enough space to sleep for seven people and came complete with a lock on the door.
As refugees, the only important job for us was to pass the interview for sponsorship. We needed to find a permanent location to start our lives over. The children all had to go to school during the day to learn basic English, and at night gathered at the Community Center to watch a movie or just roamed around the camp.
Life was beautiful for the most part even though we owned nothing to our name besides our clothing. The days and nights were filled with different activities and we were not hungry or thirsty. We lived in a guarded area with protection, and within these walls we still had freedom to explore.
There were always people around us, and everyone mingled with one another. It was like a cult society. We all knew each other, parents to parents, children to children, teenagers to teenagers. Everyone was the same: situation wise, penniless, homeless, country-less, and most importantly no status or rank.
Since having taken French and English back in Vietnam two years prior, I got a jump to Advance English class. The most joyous part of the day for me was to go to school, freely, and liberally making new friends without
fear of being punished by my aunt. I had my own group of friends to satisfy the thirst for human relationship.
My English teacher was a lovely lady, whose manners and dispositions I considered an angel! She recognized that I was beyond the level of her class, so she gave me different assignments and books to advance in my studies. I only knew her for two short weeks, for I had to leave after that..
Joining
Alphabe-Thursday
(Listed in
Teenager Years series)
