So, here I was completely alone for the first time in a new country heading towards Delta gate to board a plane to
. There was a visible difference between the international section of Atlanta and the domestic one. The first one looked like a pack of mules have just passed through it. It was noisy, the floors were laminated, the bathrooms were dirty, and the space was cramped with no chairs to sit at. I guess the international airplane companies were saving on rent and customer service. The domestic section was quite different. New York Airport
This is a blog about my thoughts and experience I have gathered as an immigrant. I have decided to share them because I know there are thousands of people who would make the decision to leave their country in search of a better life. I want to warn them of the dangers ahead, give them a few helpful tips and prepare them for the changes they will face as they embark on this journey.
I have always known I would be an immigrant. As a child I read books about far-away countries and dreamt of living there. I was fascinated with the stories of the wild west, the fights of the cowboys with the Indians, and the great adventures of taming the wilderness. The land across the ocean looked so appealing and exciting.