I live in a tribe of Native Americans who are located at the bottom of the Andes Mountains in the Peru area. Our village faces the ocean which is beautiful at sunset when the sun can be seen disappearing under the water. The orange red glow of the sun reflects off of the dark yet clear blue of the sea. There is a hidden place, even though people only find on accident, that has the best view of the breathtaking ocean. I love that place cause few people find it and if they do the despise it immediately. I call this place my special place because the colorful plants and trees are soothing. The green grass tickles my toes when I stand and cushions my back when I lay down. This place is my go to hill whenever I receive my daily temper. I am a female Native American named Cava who is a merchant due to my family line. I trade in one of the most populated part of the empire which is where Atahualpa, one of our current leaders, lives. My many greats grandfather was a farmer who married a merchant because of their unhidden love which would explain why …show more content…
I had feelings for a farmer boy named Auqui. He had that choppy dark brown hair that stuck out at random places. His eyes are a really light brown that paralyzes you after a glance of eye contact. And his skin is a brown with red tint with his lips just a tad lighter. But what I like most of all is his personality of kindness and honesty. No one could be more perfect. Everyone in the market smiles when Auqui comes to the market to buy a bit of food every week from my blanket of goods because we always end up talking. However, every bear has claws. I have had enough of my government and practically had Supay staring down on me judging by my mood. When Auqui came, he noticed all to well. “Why do you look like you came back from Uca Pacha, Cava” he demanded while looking at the different fruits and vegetables on the blanket. Rolling my eyes I replied “I’ve had enough with that no good Atahualpa. Tomorrow, we are having to go to another part of the empire. Its name which I will not speak because there is little people who purchases from the merchants.” Finding the right ear of maize, the husk showing a bit of yellow and the rest of the green thin enough that you could see a greener version of teal, Auqui frowned and said “you are to picky about your life. Try to adjust.” I growled and took the offer for the maize, which happened to be quinoa, and mumbled “just go and feed your family. Take two ears, though, because that is a lot of quinoa.” Just as Auqui reached out to grab another ear of maize, someone shoved into him while running. Apparently there was a huge crowd doing the same. All it took was a shared look between us two, and we were off running as well with joined hands so we wouldn’t get seperated. When we joined the crowd at the shore before the ocean, we witnessed floating objects coming towards us. The objects were all wooden in a bowl shape and had wood poles supporting fabric as it snaps in the wind. The people who got off were white. We have never seen white men before. They all exited the unidentified floating object and spoke in an unidentified language. This species is unidentified. Only one of the white men could speak our language and said “we would like to offer you our goodwill and safe conduct.” Atahualpa stepped forward and said “I would very much like to see what you want to offer in a meeting. That way we can also see what you want in return.” The second man nodded and and spoke the same weird gibberish the first man used. I have never met such weird creatures before. The first man nodded to the other white men and shouted in a very loud and commanding voice. As white men started moving off, the second man said “That is Francisco Pizarro, the man in charge.” Pizarro… the way it was said sounded like trouble. It is the day of the meeting and I was stuck at the marketplace. Everyone is acting like everything is normal. Like a strange species did not just show up in UFOs and request Atahualpa’s presence right away. All these events are hurting my head. I got up and decided to go to my calm clearing just behind the market. As I looked behind my shoulder, my brother took my place just as Auqui appeared. Weird. He only comes once every week or so. When I get to the clearing, I find Pizarro and Atahualpa with that other man who speaks what we speak. I hide behind a tree and watch. Pizarro makes a weird noise that sounds like a pig or boar snort and signals to the trees. Soldiers came out with a pole and rope while circling Atahualpa. They stuck the pole in the ground and seized Atahualpa to tie him to it. Once they were done, Pizarro scattered wood at the foot of the pole and set fire to the logs. Almost immediately his screams began. I shivered from the agony in them and covered my ears from the loudness in them. Pizarro face showed that he was still making that ugly boar snort even though I could not hear them over the screams muffled by the hands over my ears. The bad thing is that the market is loud and farmers are on the other side of the mountain range. No one else could hear the screams of a dying man. Hours later when Atahualpa was nothing but ash, my ears were ringing with the sound of a painful and slow death.
Francisco Pizarro is as bad as I thought, still snorting away like there is something in his nose. I marched up, stopped in front of him, and said “What do you think your doing? Yes he deserved hurt but not death. A slow and agonizing death nonetheless! You came here offering safe conduct and burn someone on a pole?” I was so angry I just let it all out. No, not angry, furious. Pizarro stopped boaring out, frowned, and lowered a metal weird shaped bow level to my face. The terror showed clearly on my face. Then, Atahualpa’s personnel army came out of the trees and attacked. I took this chance to escape and go back to the market. I was out of breath when I arrived back at the carpet. My brother looked at me with a worried look in his eyes as he asked “Cava? What’s
wrong?” “We need to go now” I reply as I gather the whole carpet and its items in the woven basket we store it in. His eyes widen and I stomp inside to find Auqui sitting at the mat with my sister, other two brothers, and our parents. “Pack all your stuff, we are moving early” I say as I gather all my few belongings. My parents looked puzzled and Auqui stood up to help. “No you need to go get your family ready to move.” Auqui looked at me with confusion. “But you are the ones who are leaving not us.” “Fine we’re not moving early but we need to escape Francisco Pizarro. I just witnessed him kill Atahualpa and try to kill me. We need to go.” Auqui shook his head “the white men have many things we do not and could make a change in our lives. I know you don’t want to move and that you want to take me with you so we can stay together, but lying is not gonna change that fact that we got to stay, Cava. I’ll help you pack and then I am going back home to my family.” I shook my head and sighed. Nothing can change Auqui’s mind so I just let him help us pack. When we left he saw us off and I used a secret trail so we don’t run into the white men. After we were out of the empire, we built our homes out of the nearby forest and its inhabitants. Everyday I pray that Auqui will escape before it is too late. It wasn’t long before the empire was destroyed and we were glad we made it out in time.
There is a place where not far from my hometown, which, since my childhood, still holds the secrets to life. It was a place where we were free. Free to do whatever we wanted to do, say whatever we wanted to say, it was our place, our river. It was a simple place, no paved or asphalt roads for the commotion of busy traffic, no tall buildings to block out the sunlight, no sense of time to feel rushed or anxious, no effects from the outside world. It was a beach on the coast of Lake Sakakawea called “Little Egypt.”
It starts early morning “adiós, adiós México querido, yo nunca olvidarte podré” (bye, bye dear Mexico, I can never forget ) my mother carries small boxes out our bright blue front door as we walk and get in a rusty old truck. The engine purrs and the truck jumps up and down because of the rocks that make up the road. My small turquoise house starts to fade way along with the trees, and mountains. That’s how it starts early morning leaving the memories of my childhood that influenced my character.
What is culture? Culture is the idea of what is wrong or right, the concept of what is acceptable within our society. Culture serves us as a guide, taking us to the "right way" and helping us to make sense of things that surrounds us. There are many different cultures around the world. A lot of them are similar in specific ways and others are just completely different, this difference explains why we think that people from different backgrounds are "weird".
On November 16, 1532 Spanish explorer and conquistador, Francisco Pizarro captured Atahualpa, the Incan emperor. Pizarro lured Atahualpa to a feast where he then began to fire on the unsuspecting and unarmed Incans. Pizarro massacred his men and then took Atahualpa hostage. His ransom was a roomful of gold and silver, he forced Atahualpa into Christianity then burned him at the stake.
Every person has an American Dream they want to pursue, achieve and live. Many people write down goals for themselves in order to get to their dream. Those never ending goals can range from academic to personal. As of today, I am living my dream. My American Dream is to become a nurse, travel to many places, have a family, and get more involved with God.
...ly with wilderness and believe that these are the places that have touched me most deeply.
A significant moment in her life was the time she moved from Hawaii to Colorado. It was not a smooth transition between two completely different places. Nevertheless, she would manage to fall in love with Colorado just as much as her Hawaiian home.
I was born and raised in Vietnam, so I naturally observed my culture from my family and my previous schools. I learned most of my culture by watching and coping the ways my family do things. My family and my friends all spoke Vietnamese, so I eventually knew how to speak and understand deeply about my language as I grew up. At home, my mom cooked many Vietnamese foods, and she also taught me to cook Vietnamese food. So I became accustom Vietnamese food. I also learned that grandparents and parents in my culture are taken care of until they die. At school, I learned to address people formally and greet higher-ranking people first. In Vietnamese culture, ranking and status are not related to wealth, so they are concerned with age and education.
I was born with too much cerebral spinal fluid inside my brain, which gives me seizures.
Though I am Native, I have minimal knowledge about my own culture and have not ever participated in events that are often associated with Native American life. Powwow’s, stickball demonstrations and Native pageants are something rather foreign to me, so when I attended the Choctaw fair on April 19th I was quite surprised to find I had never been involved in any of these events before. It was a lively and enriching environment, one that I found to be rather enjoyable. My experience here was unlike any other that I have had before, for my only previous knowledge of my Native heritage was found only through talks with my grandfather. Though my grandfather and I were Cherokee, I found many similarities within the Choctaw regalia and weapons that
Culture is something that we all have. It illustrates who we are as people. There are many types of cultures in this world. The one culture that illustrates who I am is Mexican. I was raised in which some would call a typical Mexican family. In my family are my mom, stepdad, and siblings but my real dad is German and African American, which I still see whenever I want which is a lot. It's common that my parents have extended family over like cousins, grandparents etc. and nobody in my family is quiet and I mean nobody. Everytime I walk in my house it's loud, festive as if we were having a party or a fiesta.
The artifact that I chose is my guitar. Originally I wanted to just choose music in general as my artifact as I also play the piano and am in choir but i finally decided on my guitar specifically because it is what really pulled me into and got me interested in music beyond just listening to it. It is what helped me develop as a musician.
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...
I think we all have a beautiful place in our mind. I have a wonderful place that made me happy a lot of times, years ago. But sometimes I think that I am the only person who likes this place and I'm asking myself if this place will be as beautiful as I thought when I will go back to visit it again. Perhaps I made it beautiful in my mind.
Have you ever visited a place so beautiful and serene that you couldn’t imagine a more stunning place? For me, it is the shimmering and flowing waters of the ocean. The way that the deep blue waters meet the gritty beige sand leaves me in such awe. The water is like a soft blanket, comforting and inviting. The unique wildlife and vegetation that exists on the beach is something I’ve never seen anywhere else. There is no place more beautiful and thrilling than the beach.