Personal Narrative: My Trip To The Democratic Republic Of Congo

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Gasping for air in the hot, dry humidity, only in the Democratic Republic of Congo do I feel hot and sticky. Every second, a drip of sweat runs down my back. A shade darker my skin becomes. Simply a reminder of the first time I moved to Arizona. Of course, I was too young to remember but my mother never let me forget I cried every time we stepped outside into a triple digit burning sensation. I was an emotional kid who did not like feeling as if I was in a sauna. In 2004, My trip to the Democratic Republic of Congo was an indescribable experience because of my warm, welcoming family, the exquisite food, and the

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