The drive from San Diego to the City of Children in Ensenada, Mexico is a long and beautiful. I am 15 years old, and I have never been to Mexico before. I am blissfully unaware of what I am about to experience. I am not taking a trip to Cancun, where everything is nice and beautiful, I am going to experience something completely different. Traveling with me are about 30 other high school students, and 10 chaperones. We put our luggage in the under carriage of a large blue and gray charter bus and board one by one. When we have all taken our seats, the youth minister tells us that our trip will take about an hour and a half. We begin the long drive, and when we arrive at the border, we are told to sit quietly while the border patrol looks through our luggage. After about 15 minutes, we are allowed to pass and continue our journey. …show more content…
To my right, there is crystal blue ocean as far as the eye can see. The road is winding, and has been built into the rock hills that line the coasts. The road is built on a cliff, and it feels as if you could go tumbling off into the ocean at the next turn. In my mind, I picture our entire bus plunging into the ocean. I feel a little lightheaded and my stomach flip flops at the thought of this, so I turn to look at the hills instead. The hills are pure rock, and every plant on them looks brown, black and
I am not white, but I am not Mexican either. I am, however, a first generation Mexican American with parents from San Luis Potosi, Mexico. Perhaps I do not know what it is like to cross the border that refrains me from being Mexican, or the color of my skin that refrains me from being white, but my own personal experiences make me the Mexican American that I am today. Growing up I celebrated the Fourth of July with fireworks, and the Day of the Virgin of Guadalupe with matlachines.
One thing is a dream in serving God, and another thing is to do it. When we came to the US with Adriana, my wife, was a new star for us. We got married before came. However, also was a new beginning in my ministry… God planted a new and bigger vision in our hearts.
This summer, my church took a missions trip to Puerto Penasco. It wasn 't the easiest trip to plan, seeing we only had two months to plan for it, and pay for it. Yes, this trip was spontaneous, and we worked very hard to get the money for it. It was a hot day when I and the rest of the missions team got out of the airplane in Phoenix, Arizona.
If you are feeling a little confused that’s okay, this is judgment free zone. I am twenty three years old and on the verge of graduating this December, And my interpretation of messages changes every day that I mature and grow as a person.
Be who you are and don 't let anyone tell you otherwise. These are some words we 're hearing more and more everyday ever since the recent election. A lot of issues have come up ever since the election. People are literally scared because of what the future has to offer with the new elected president. That isn 't something that anyone should have to go through just because of they who are and what they identify as.
I believe the term, hispanic, itself does not define who I am. I define who I am and who I want to become. However, I do come from a Mexican heritage. Coming from a Mexican heritage has influenced and deeply impacted my life. My heritage has taught me a lot.
Its 1914 and I just got the news that we were finally going to America! We have been waiting for several years trying to save up money and figure everything out. Going to America is almost every ones dream here in Europe. Just like Oscar Hammerston said, “ You gotta have a dream.
Culturally, family is the base of my Hispanic heritage. As a child my mother taught me that family is the most important aspect of life. I remember my abuelita and uncle visiting every Thanksgiving and telling stories about their youth, from my uncle getting lost in Yosemite National Park to my abuelita regularly being dragged by the ear to Mother Superior’s office. When she came to visit, my abuelita would always share the family albums that she had stuffed in her suitcase. With every picture there was both a story and a lesson.
I’m normal. Too normal. I come from a nuclear, upper middle class family. Mom, Dad, one girl, two boys. You’ve heard it all before.
I smiled gently as my feet sunk into the warm sands of the Punta Cana coast. During a short snorkeling expedition on the magnificent coral reefs, I was abruptly awoken by a loud series of bangs. Who was outside the door this time of night? As the banging got louder, my anger quickly morphed into terror. My mind began racing with the infinite possibilities awaiting me outside the safety of my bedroom.
Never have I taken my culture into consideration, but I would more than likely classify my culture as Latino/Hispanic. For starters, I was born in a lovely place called Chihuahua, Mexico. This place is the reason I consider myself a Latino. Why is this my culture you ask? My whole daily lifestyle revolves around this Hispanic heritage.
Here, none of that is true. It has taken us 2 days to get to Saltillo, Mexico. It’ll take us another couple of days to get to Texas. We don’t have a final destination yet but Mami says we’ll figure it out when we get there. We are walking in big groups.
January 11, 2013, I wake up to yelling, prayers, and crying. I walked into the kitchen where all the noises were coming from and I found my mother on the floor crying, talking on the phone with my godmother. My father was there by her side, trying hard not to cry while supporting his wife. I didn’t know what was happening, this was the first time I’ve seen my mom so vulnerable and broken. My parents didn’t tell me anything other than my grandmother was in critical condition at the hospital, but with god's help she would overcome this hard time.
My grandfather asked me “Which one?” I respond “Let’s get this one”. Little did I know that guinea pig was my dinner. Guinea pigs or cuy are not pets but food in Ecuador. When I arrived at the airport it looked like any typical airport, but it felt as if I was in a different world.
In my life ive had lots of memorable events , but the most unforgettable one was my graduation trip to Cancun Mexico. when I first found out I was going to this trip I thought it would be so easy as in just get up and go, but no this trip took tons of planing, the most important part of this trip was getting my passport that took about five weeks to arrive, once I received my passport then I was able to start booking my flight, that's when the excitement started,then I booked my hotel. I took care of all the important things then I started looking into placing and things I would be visiting such as beaches,water parks, entertainment shows,shopping centers,restaurants,etc The day arrived off we go to Cancun my boyfriend,friends and I, We got to the airport early that morning went thought security then we grabbed are tickets found are gate number then took a sit while we wait for the plane