I live in Garden Grove, Vietnam. I know Garden Grove is not in Vietnam, but it feels immensely so. My community is small, we know and see all, but we are not tight knit or family like. There are Vietnamese people everywhere I go and look. If a person who was not Vietnamese, of Asian descent, or Mexican in my community, they would stand out like a sore thumb. This small, judging world of your typical, old-fashioned Vietnamese people have made me want to leave, to venture out and to explore the possibilities there are in this world. I want to travel, I want to have an adventure. I want to discover what is in the next city over because I for one have never been out of Garden Grove for more than a few hours, and that as we all know if not enough
In this report I will explore the book Fire in The grove written by the author John C. Esposito. The book specifically describes the event of the fire, the reasons behind it, and who was responsible for this horrific disaster. The author explains that the main reasons of the fire were the structure of The Grove and the layout it was portrayed in. Later giving solutions on how to react if such incident happens as I explain further in the report.
For many characters, a new environment can be unfamiliar and unwelcoming. In her 1946 novel The Street, Ann Petry uses literary devices such as imagery, personification, and selection of detail to prove the hostile relationship between the elements and narrator Lutie Johnson. This environment is antagonistic in relation towards narrator Lutie Johnson, as it is intentionally stopping her and making her journey difficult. Authors use imagery to give a visual representation of the setting. As Lutie Johnson is walking down the street, the wind is against her as “It found all the first and dust and grime on the sidewalk and listed it up so the dirt got in their noses, making it difficult to breathe.
I have never wanted to be out of a place more than Vietnam. The place filled me with dread and I have never known the kind of fear I felt there any place else.” (The Vietnam War: A History in Documents, Document
As the L.A. Times reports, “Until recently, the county’s most visible Asian cluster was Little Saigon, once-sleepy central distract transformed by Vietnam War refugees into a bustling shopping and dining destination.” By working together as a community, the Vietnamese managed to overcome their social barriers and achieve great successes in Orange County, which was an amazing feat for a refugee group that started out with nothing. Little Saigon is a reminder to the Vietnamese Americans, of a history and story of a people who lost their homes, families, and dignity and came in 1975 to get it all back. It was a place where successful people willingly scrubbed toilets, pumped gas, and washed dishes came to reclaim their lives. As Quach Nhut, now a prosperous pharmacist in Westminster, listened to the Fall of Saigon on the radio while he was in the refugee camp, said, “I thought Saigon was lost forever.”
was born in a small town in Texas known as Laredo. It was a poor city and was basically the border town to Mexico, it was always a mess, always hot, and only snowed once in 2002. Even though the city I was born in was harsh place, I had a great family that raised me well and taught me how to be respectful to my elders. Home was always different, every 2 to 3 years we always moved around so I really didn’t have many friends, until I moved to San Antonio is where I found a great home in 2007, the neighborhood was filled with nice people and each house actually had a lawn and not just broken cars or dried dirt in the front porches. The community was fantastic as well, the people and atmosphere we lived in when we moved to San Antonio was so much better than Laredo because people were actually nice to you and everyone didn’t look like they were going to cause trouble.
Smitty was sick of the sour, stingy smell of the bait tackle shop. Local faces would pass through the shop, getting their usual haul. The lake near Cypress City would soon be filled with the boats of old fishermen. Cypress City was not, in fact, a city. It was a run down town in Maryland, too old to be of any use to the world.
I have lived in East Oakland my whole life. To the majority of people, the mention of East Oakland evokes thoughts of violence, shootings, and gangs. I was one of the people who believed in these stereotypes, and for a particularly long time. I was one of the people who saw Oakland as a wasteland, a place with nothing to offer me, and a place I had nothing to offer to.
My heart seemed to stop when we drove away I was sure that we had forgotten people that night but how was I the only one to notice. I could not sleep for almost a week after that. I kept having the same dream of the hayrack ride being emptier on our way back. The strangest part was that the driver went to help that group carry pumpkins but he never remembered the people when I asked.
Don’t die in Fansipan This time about 3 years ago, I was so sad hearing about a young talented student named Anh, from my home town, Xuan Dinh, missing in Fansipan. I heard no further news about him since then. 5 days ago, I shared a face book link, looking for an English backpacker, Aiden Webb, who was reported missing after a week in Fancipan, the highest mountain in Vietnam. Sadly, the morning news revealed he was found death after a week missing.
There is an old Moorish proverb that reads, “He who does not travel, does not know the value of man.” That quote resonates deep within me because I have a yearning to use my education to empower those in need. In order to do so, I need to see and experience the world outside of the one I am accustomed to. Curiosity is one of the traits that define the person that I am; because of this trait I always ask questions about the world around me and the people I meet. This is one of the driving forces behind my desire to venture outside of the United States to learn a new language and culture.
In his memoir, Where the Wind Leads, Vinh Chung demonstrates the theme that times of despair and hardship will eventually pass, but it is the motivation to succeed which will make that time fruitful. While relaying the story of his family’s past, Chung gives an overall theme of success and prosperity which accompanies the distress and conflict brought about by the encompassing Vietnam War. As Chung stated, “[W]hat I do know is that the same pressure that can crush coal into dust can also turn carbon into diamond . . . Tough times produce tough people” (14). Though this theme of success can be grounded in one’s desire to prosper, Chung shows a deeper desire from which this success stems.
On the night of August 17, 2008, an Española police officer responded to a breaking and entering call from across Valdez Park. The place of interest would appear to be the concession stand in the park. A group of friends including myself were around the skate park listening to the rain hit the ramps and the thunder pound in the sky like a stereo system. Spotlights were shined on us as we heard the words “Get on the fucking ground!” As soon as they yelled that, my shoes were skipping across the soaked concrete after we decided to split up.
It's was a cloudy day at downtown Los Angels. Melanie had just got off her cab from the airport. As soon as she got out the cab she had realized she got off at the wrong location. Not only that but as soon as she searched for her phone in her pocket it was gone and she noticed she had left it inside the cab.
There were always efforts to improve the living environment in the nineteenth century. Even Patrick Gedddes spoke about the evils at hte turn of the century. In 1892 Geddes founded the Outlook tower in Edinburgh,a centre in which he could study the whole complex of urban life. He insisted upon a view of all phases of human existence as the base of operations ,an integration of physical planning with social and economic improvements. Patrick Geddes gave voice to the necessity of what was later to become Regional planning.
but it took time to understand that no matter how long I have lived here, they will always call me farang. If I knew then what I know now, would I do it all over again? Hell yeah! I would do it for the adventure, the rollercoaster ride into the unknown, for the thrill of experiencing life in a country so foreign to my own.