Last Chance to Pass

themes are not exactly the same. They do have a couple things in common.

          Hunger of Memory is about a Hispanic family with 1 son. They Recently moved to a white neighborhood. Once they got there, they were immediately judged. Some of their neighbors were very nice and greeted them selves. Their son would get embarrassed because the parents couldn’t speak English fluently. He realized that they couldn’t speak English fluently because his parents grew up in a Hispanic community. They learned Spanish as their main language.

          The story An American story Is about a Vietnamese family. The mother, 4 daughters. 1 son left Vietnam in a small fishing boat with only 200 dollars, enough for food and jackets to stay warm. As they were leaving the engine fell from the fishing boat. The oldest daughter and the father stayed in Vietnam to continue school and make money. The father attempted to leave Vietnam in a boat but failed many times. Finally on 1983 he made it to the Philippines then to the United States. The oldest daughter was the only one in Vietnam. When she planned to leave she made it to Hong Kong on 1989, where she was kept in refugee camp. On 1992 she finally made it to Portland. Her whole family finally reunited. Both parents ran a small grocery shop in Salem Oregon . One of he sisters became and accountant and the other 2 because computer programmers. The Brother became an architect. The oldest sister began to study at a community college in Salem where she studied English and cultural skills to open a new business.

          A couple things both these stories have in common is that they move to United States to recreate their lives. These two families knowing very little English moved to united states with not much in order to make their lives better and more efficient.  They wanted a second chance to aim for success. Which the Vietnamese family made it to the United States with nothing in their mental to be somebody big and they certainly did make a big difference in their lives.  

          These stories weren’t only on aiming for success, but also on adapting to new places. In The Hunger of Memory the family moves knowing very little English. They weren’t accepted by their neighbors because of their ethnicity. They didn’t really care because they knew they weren’t their to do anything that can affect their neighbors lives.

          Both of these stories are very interesting and inspiring. They got very lucky to actually reach success many families also risk their lives for a second chance but sadly don’t reach success.

In conclusion theses themes are about recreating lives and adapting to new surroundings and new people.

Day in Downtown LA

          As I walk down the semi cold streets of Downtown Los Angeles, I  decided to stop for some coffee. Making a sharp left heading, towards the main street, the thought of something warm excites me. Sounds from people talking, ice being blended, and cashiers taking orders fill the air. Walking towards the cashier, as he greets you with …“ Hi, Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order” I say, “ Hi can I get a grande hot caramel macchiato with extra caramel“ . The warmth of the Caramel Macchiato running down my throat as I drink it. Perfect for the type of weather I thought to my self.

          As I walk by myself, somewhere in the distance I sense movement. Anxiety and fear grew. I noticed the mans clothing, old green and blue shirt the old man wore seemed so thin, as if he wasn’t even wearing a shirt. His pants, old, dirty, with a big hole exposing a part of his frost bitten leg.  His shoes, they both had the biggest holes baring his toes. The only warm part of his body. His face; his beard, a long, thick, black and white. Seems as if he has been growing it for a while now. His beard blew along with the wind. Wrinkled, rubbery looking skin. as if he was in his 70’s, looks can be deceiving.

          The old man sat on a sleeping bag on top of a cardboard box. The man shivered, hugging his knees close to his chest to protect himself from the cold. His eyes. Black and hollow. His sight never left the pile of empty soda cans. A bent piece of cardboard box reading” I will work for food” leaned up against he dark drown bricks of wall. Not bothered by the rat that just ran over his foot. As still as a statute.  Ignorant to everything that was happening around him.

         I was frighten by him. I’ve never witnessed somebody so still through such conditions. Seems like he was frozen in time. I was afraid that we wasn’t breathing anymore.. the while situation reminded me of a horror movie; something bad and unexpected was sure to happen. The only thing that was missing was the scary music on the background that signified an upcoming death.

          Splattered over his head was a discolored liquid. It was blood. Who knows who it belonged to. I wondered if it was his own blood or if he had done something to somebody else. Seeing the patch of blood, I began to feel nauseous. I started to wonder if I was his next victim. If it was going to be my warm blood splattered on the walls. Panic began to set in, so many thoughts were going through my mind at that point. I had so many option; turn around and run. I figured I was loosing it. The way he sat there so motion less. I don’t even think he would have noticed me one way or the other.