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“Come on Luke, we are going to be late for the Taxi,” I said. I was putting on the last finishing touches of my make up on when the phone rang. Leo the Taxi Driver was calling letting us know he was waiting in the front lobby for us. “Do you think this is a good idea Miranda?” I mean we don’t even know this Taxi driver Leo. This is a foreign country,” Luke said concerning. Leo had been driving us around for the past four days. I felt like he was a longtime friend. Another couple that we had talked to has had Leo for a driver there the last three times they were on vacation. They call him every year they are down there. “What are you so worried about? We are going to be fine; they know the best beach spots in Acapulco.” Let’s just have fun …show more content…
Luke was wearing a gray polo shirt with khaki shorts and flip flops. There was Leo waiting for us. Leo was a big Spanish man trying to make a living in Mexico for his family of five. “Are you ready for your tour of Acapulco Mexico?” He asked us both. “I am” with excitement I yelled and Luke nodded his head. “One Hundred American Dollars to drive us around for the day right Leo?” He shook his head and agreed with the price. Luke and I had been waiting for this trip for months. We had saved a lot of money and wanted to this trip to be memorable. We got into the car and off, we went up the hill to watch some cliff diving. The taxi wasn’t very clean with pop bottles, gun wrappers and a lot of papers all over the dashboard. As we were driving up the hill, I had a funny feeling in my stomach like I should be second guessing our decision if we should do this. But, then I would have to tell Luke he was right and that is one thing I did not want to …show more content…
There were houses with no roofs on them. Bed sheets were hanging off the cut out part of the window. It was all dirt floors, as far as we could tell from looking in the door way that had long beads that looked like it was the front door to the house. Chickens, goats and dogs were running all around the dirt path which was the road. I thinking in my head, what have I gotten Luke and myself into? “Where are we?” I asked Leo and Alberto. “We are at Alberto’s house. This is where he lives.” My heart was beating so fast. It looked like this house should be abandon from anyone. My hands got really sweaty and my nerves started to kick in. My stomach started to turn like I had eaten bad chicken the night before. “We will be ok,” I kept telling myself over and over again. Luke had his head down looking like he was praying God to save us. Leo looked back at us and smiled. “Do you want to go inside and see his house?” Luke replied “No, I think we are fine. We should get going.” Leo looked at Luke with a puzzled look on his face and turned back around. Luke turned his head at me and shook his head. I put my head down and had a tear stream down my left cheek. I never realized what could have happen to Luke and I and how much danger we could have been
In “Proofs,” a sixteen year old boy narrates his father crossing the border between America and Mexico. To begin, Rodriguez says, “He wanted books. He had none. You are lucky, boy” (415). This referred to when the father had nothing and how the son is fortunate to have a better life than his dad did. Throughout the essay, Rodriguez has small segments in which the son and the father have
“The Short Bus: A Journey Beyond Normal” by Jonathan Mooney is the story of his journey around the U.S. in short bus nonetheless to meet with different children and their families who have faced challenges in school due to ADD, ADHD, Autism, and other learning disabilities. Jonathan Mooney himself faced the disability of Dyslexia and often had to deal with many challenges in school himself, but he appears to be one of the more fortunate ones, who was able to grow from his disability and ultimately get a degree in English. Needless to say, his book and journey lead the reader to question what really is “normal”, and how the views of this have caused the odds to be stacked against those who don’t fit the mold. Throughout, this story, for me personally however, this story gave several events that I found moving, and had the potential to influence my further work in education.
"Hey boy where are you going?" the driver shouted at Bill while he stretched his arms across the opening to prevent myself from stepping down. I stood waiting. "Where do you think your going?" he asked, his heavy cheeks quivering with each word. "I'd like to go to the rest room." I smiled and moved to step down. He tightened his grip on the
I haven’t seen you since the last time I went to Venezuela three years ago! I didn’t know you were visiting.” “Oh I’m just here for the party later.” “This is my friend Nish, we’re just slurping our slurpees.” “Hi Nish, nice to meet you.” Now the three of us are just standing in front of the 7 Eleven watching as the cars go by.
Getting a police ride along isn’t the easiest form of interview to get. It took me a two week process so I can set up a date to do a ride along. The process includes a background check and the reason why I wanted to do a ride along. The officer gave a strict dress code that I had to follow for that day. Police departments have been stricter on who can do a ride along because there have been incidents were citizens attack the officers while doing the ride along. That is the reason why it takes a while until they approve that you can get one.
At first, I had a hard time decided on where in Los Angeles to go and observe for this assignment. There were a lot of great choices because Los Angeles is very diverse city. As the due date of this paper was getting closer, I got an invite from one of my friends to the Cinco De Mayo party that is being thrown by his parents. At first, I was hesitant to say yes, but then I thought about how this would be a great opportunity for my assignment. So I said yes to my friend’s invitation. I’ve never been to a Cinco De Mayo party before so I didn’t know what to expect or what the dress code is.
Little did I know at the time, but this was going to be the longest bus ride of my life. A bus ride that was going to take me halfway across the state of California, it was going to feel like I was traveling through the last four years of my troubled teen life.
My Grandfather, now 74, is a retired cab driver after around forty sum odd years on that specific job. At the beginning, he was just another Mexican immigrant wandering around towns aimlessly searching for a job. He hadn’t lived in El Paso until about thirty-five years ago when he had my mother in this town and my Uncles in other towns. His three children my Uncles Raul, Joe, and his daughter Brenda (, my mother,) continue his name through their children or his grandchildren. I sat there in his living room eating burritos for lunch as he had agreed to meet with me at his house around two o'clock in the afternoon. His house is a mobile home which resides near Concordia cemetery in a mobile home park. I had already planned on what I would be asking him generally ahead of time so that I could get all the information I needed before I met him at his house.
The Taxi, by Amy Lowell, is an Imagist poem that relies heavily on imagery, rather than abstract ideas, to reveal meaning to the reader. The author uses free verse to allow the images and lines to speak for themselves and stand alone as individual lines. By doing so, each line offers its own tone and meaning, which then adds to the overall feel of the poem. Lowell wrote this poem to a love interest, clearly stating the meaning of the poem. She speaks as if the reader is the one being called after. The reader is entranced in her short poem filled with imagery to set the mood; the dire, last goodbye that seemed to separate the two forever. The poet's love for this person was also shown in her other works, and has made it very clear that there was a connection (Highleyman). This connection reveals the theme to be that she is lost without love. Before breaking the poem down into fragments for a line-by-line analysis, it can first be analyzed as a whole.
It felt so dragged out because all I wanted was to see him and tell him the news. Our connection felt different, phone calls were made shorter and they weren’t as frequent. I missed him. Two nights had gone by without a phone call or even a message. This wasn’t typical of Luke. I was becoming increasingly worried. I tried to distract myself from the situation and went to Atlanta to visit my parent’s for the weekend. This provided a distraction from my despair. When I arrived home, the flat fell silent. I sat aimlessly on the sofa, starring at the telephone, hoping that maybe it would ring. I tried turning my television on but I was oblivious to anything around me. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I knew something was wrong. Fifty-five minutes passed, as I stared at the phone. That was when I heard it
I struggle out of bed, and wake up to a chilly winter morning. One of those mornings that make your cheeks redden from the first whip of the cold winter air, and an almost immediate tensing of your muscles. Having no time to spare I have to get into my car without being able to warm it up. Making me have to battle the cold for the six block trip to the high school parking lot to meet up with my friend for our morning ritual of smoking a cigarette. I jump out of my freezing car and get into his S-10 pickup. Today was a little different though, I had a new cd called Monster Magnet that I popped into his cd player to listen to as we drove around. We make our way to the edge of the parking lot being careful not to light our cigarettes before we're out of the view of the cameras.
For the next 3 weeks all I can think about its what went on that and what will be the next thing we do when I am let off the hook. As I start to plan the return to “ The Mansion” I start to hear weird noises coming from the woods outside of the house. As I peek out of the window of my small upstairs room, I see 4 people in black outfits slowly walking up to the garage door of my house. As I go to get my parents I realize that they had left to go to the grocery store about an hour ago. I then proceed to call my friends and tell them all to meet at my house asap so we can head back to “The Mansion” sometime tonight as we have all been curious for the last 3 weeks. As they begin to arrive, I begin to think that the people I saw walking through the woods may have been my neighbor Dave and his 3 kids heading back home from the river they were fishing at earlier that
“Oh honey,” I answered, sadly acknowledging my daughter’s hunger, “ I wish it was. Actually, I’m not quite sure what it is. Help me clean it off, will you?” Emily and I began scrubbing the dilapidated, seaweed covered object in the warm waves of the Atlantic. “Wow, That’s not at all I expected.” I answered as I rolled an old bottle in the water. “At least we can get some money for this at the recycling center. Not much, but if we collect enough bottles we could get some lunch!” I looked hopelessly at the bottle.
“Hey mom, does someone else live here with you and dad?” I asked out of curiosity. “Why would you think that sweetheart? Your father and I have lived her by ourselves since you moved out twenty years ago.” she replied. “No reason.” I responded. “Well Mrs. Sanchez, the meal was lovely, but I feel it is time for Courtney and me to be adventuring home.” Zack said with the same expression he had when we arrived. Just as Zack and I were heading to the front door to leave, a roaring wind came and went carrying an angry cloud of rain and hail with it. “Well Zack, looks like we are having a sleep over with my parents tonight.” I smirked. “I will show you to your room then.” my mother said with a huge smile shooting across her face.
I lived with my father for my entire life, but due to his work I did not spend much time with him. My father worked at a different city; and thus he comes home only a few times a month. My father is a mechanic. He works at a company that is distant from our home. This was due to the company being the only one and the first where cars were being assembled in Ethiopia. Sometimes on the weekends I used to go to his work place. He would give me a trip of the place; the station was filled with vehicles, trucks, and motorcycles. It was separated by sections. In each section there were only one type of vehicle and the assembly process was shown step by step. From a fuse to large engine of the car, components were getting attached.