Chapter 1
– The BIG first impression.
The story started when I turned 17 in 2005. I had gotten a
scholarship from my high school in Saigon, Vietnam to go study in the US. My
dream came true. Going to the US was the only way for me to nurture and develop
my passion. Well, that was what I used to believe. The feeling was
indescribable as it was not easy to travel to the US from Vietnam without
having to pay a bunch of high costs. I was excited. I had no idea if I should
be scared or happy. There were different opinions upon my trip, either I would
really love my life in the US, or I would be extremely home sick, or even
worse, I would not be able to be on my own and turn into a complete ruined
individual in a totally different society. You know, everything has its prices
and prejudices. I was so eagerly looking forward to my journey ahead that I
simply ignored them.
I am glad I did ignore them.
There were some minor problems during the flight from Saigon
to Los Angeles. The trip was supposed to last about 18 hours long, but due to a
delay in Hong Kong, it was 4 more hours until I could actually step my foot on
the land of US – LAX, Los Angeles International Airport.
“Wow!”
That was my first word in the US. Was it amazing? Was it
incredible? Was it beautiful? Well, I would not know then since I was still
trapped in an airport. But “oh my god, look how big everything is!” My first
impression of this country was that everything here was just so big. I have
always known I am small, but as I was wandering around, I felt tiny, like a
mini dwarf. At first I freaked out. A young mini dwarf girl being alone, having
no idea where to go to, not familiar with anyone, not even the language, and
here she was, seeing that everything was huge, strange, and different. The
weather was not so cold but I felt as if my four limbs were already frozen. “Oh
man, I will never be able to make it here. Those people were right, I am too
sugary to make it on my own in another country.” As I started thinking of all
those dramatic thoughts, a familiar voice was sounded:
“Tran!!!”
When I turned around, it was like a heaven’s door to me, all
nice and shiny, and bright. The only person I knew here at that moment, my only
family in the US, was rushing to me, waving her arm in the air crazily, and
shouting out my name without a care that she was being watched by many other
people. It was my sister – Minh.
My sister and I had always had quarrels, but today, she was
like a guardian angel in my eyes. I was so glad to see her. We hugged and
talked for a little then she suddenly asked:
“You must be starving!”
After all the excitement from the trip, I had no idea that I
had to eat. As soon as I heard my sister offering to take me to dinner, I
noticed my stomach had been rumbling.
“So what do you want to eat?”
“Anything. I’m very hungry.”
“Okay, let’s go grab some Italian then.”
“Italian?” – I thought to myself. “Isn’t Italian food
expensive?” All my life in Vietnam, I mainly had my Mom’s cooking, and of
course it was mostly Vietnamese. My family rarely went out to eat since my
parents were very serious about saving the money. I used to call them “super
savers”. Moreover, Italian food was usually served at those fancy restaurants
in Vietnam, where I never dared to even dream to go to. I was very confused
about my sister’s choice. I thought perhaps she wanted to celebrate my arrival
to the US.
And I had my first meal in the US. To my surprise, it was
not expensive at all. Maybe if it was converted into Vietnamese money, it would
be expensive in Vietnam, but not in the US. However, I could not finish the
meal. I ordered a pasta, and they brought me a serving for two people.
“No no, that’s all yours. It is one serving.” – Minh said.
My eyes opened widely, my jaw dropped. There was no way that
I would be able to eat all of this.
“Everything sure is a lot bigger here.” –
the same thought sparked in my mind again.
---
Unfortunately, I could not stay any longer with my sister.
My destination was not Los Angeles. I had to take another flight to Chicago.
That was where my host family lived. I would be staying with them as their host
child. I would start my actual very first US day in Chicago. The brief meeting
with my sister somewhat had brought more confidence in me. My legs were no
longer frozen but rather moving rapidly toward the entrance to the plane to
Chicago. The more I walked, the warmer I felt in my heart, and the stronger my
determination became. At that moment, my future in the US was still a blur
before my eyes, but at some point, I just felt so sure that as soon as the blur
was cleared out, something amazing would be revealed.
A loud female voice from the airport speakers was echoing
behind me: “Welcome to Los Angeles International Airport.”
“Welcome to The United States of America, Tran.”
