Journey to America

I am full Filipino and I was born in Santa Barbara, Iloilo, which is located in one of the hundreds of islands in the Philippines. This is the story of me moving to America. I was twenty-eight years old when I decided to move from a small rural island in the Philippines called Iloilo to the big, fast pace, busy, crowded New York City. The reason behind my decision for moving was my best friend Nina had just moved there and she asked me to join her. We always talked about moving to the States and that was my dream ever since I was a little girl. Before I left the Philippines I was expecting America to be the easy life. On the 6^th of June I’m sitting in the car with my cousin and aunt driving to the airport nervous feelings filled my stomach. So many different emotions surrounded me. This was my first time traveling out of the country and I had to do it alone. 

I boarded China airlines and I made a stop over in Taipei.  The flight was long and smooth I fell asleep from the roaring sounds of the engines. When I woke up I was no longer in the Philippines. In my eyes it looked like a whole different world. There were so many cars on the main road it was very loud.  My sister, Marie and her family picked me up at the airport. From Los Angeles, we drove to San Diego where they lived. As we were driving to their home I stared out the window the whole time fascinated by how different this place was. I stayed with them for a few days and later on took a flight to New York to join my friend, Nina.

I arrived in New York a few days before the 4^th of July.  I was overwhelmed with how crowded the city was.  New York is so fast paced; people are always in a hurry.  Just like in Manila (one of the main islands in the Philippines), the buses are very crowded; the city streets are dirty and noisy.  I had to learn how to ride the subway since we lived in Queens. Queens is like a borough. I lived in a little place called Astoria, which is in Queens it’s like a town. My apartment was a tall, old building. The whole neighborhood was mostly Hispanic people. Our apartment is a ten-minute walk to the subway station and whenever I walked to and from the subway there are always these little grocery stores. In Manila, there are no subways. The only means of transportation to go to work and places was to take a bus, jeepney, or taxi. Most people don’t drive cars because very few can afford it.

There were so many restaurants in New York.  Every corner you see has a restaurant.  Manila is not as compact as New York.  The business districts of Manila were in some ways similar to New York.  It was easy to go shopping and find good restaurants at the same time. But one thing that struck me the most in New York was the diverse population.  One can see people of different nationalities on the street, on the buses, in the subway trains, or park.  This was one big difference between living in the Philippines and New York.  When I started working, I had to learn and adjust to other people and their culture.  It was hard to adjust and learn new ways of doing things. I and other people in the Philippines thought that once we arrive in America we have it made; that life will be easy.  It wasn’t so.  I was living with my friend’s family in a small cramped apartment. I had to do a lot of things on my own like cooking, going to the grocery, and going to the Laundromat to wash my clothes. 

When I look back, life in New York was exciting and fun but definitely harder than I anticipated.  Would I rather have stayed in the Philippines? Definitely not. I don’t regret coming to America.  Despite all the hardship and the challenges I faced, I still believe I made the right choice to immigrate to America. On the 4^th of July, my friend and her family took me to East River to watch the July 4^th fireworks.  It was truly spectacular! I have never seen such fireworks in Manila.  Even today, nothing tops what I have seen at the 4^th of July fireworks in New York.