The True Feelings Of A Technical Immigrant

Sometimes I go long months without writing, and sometimes I have to write every day that week. It depends on hundreds of things: the time, do I have time to write, is there something I need to say, etc. etc. So why am I writing now? Well because now I’m sitting in the room I grew up in, except it looks nothing like the room I grew up in. No my parents didn’t decide change my room the minute I left for college, in reality this room had been changed years before that. The room began to change when I changed. This room tucked away in the back corner of my house, has seen so much change in the past 13 years. It started off as a home to a little six-year-old who was upset to leave her old room-the one with pink and purple walls-and who had to live in a new room-one with plain white walls. The six-year-old who had to decide how her new room would look, and was overwhelmed with the possibilities. It was a room to a wild, curious, happy little girl who didn’t let the world define her. She w

Familia. In the western culture, family is a few choice people: siblings and parents while extended family consists of grandparents and first cousins; then, there are the distant relatives: second cousins who are once, twice, thrice removed. However, in eastern culture, family is all of the above. It's very simple. Your cousins are your siblings, and there is no differentiating between first and second cousins. They are equally loved and respected. Family is very important in this culture. For example, many families live together or close by. In America, it is strange for a child to live in their parents home past 18, but in my family, it is only logical. Here, many parents are put into assisted living homes whereas in many other cultures, parents live with their children. For technical immigrants, this is one aspect of our parents’ culture that we take-with some modifications ofcourse. We live with our parents, and we promise to take care of them when they need it. I