Where I'm From

I am from music, lyrics that bring back the moments, from Ipods and Taylor Swift.
From the ocean, the waves seen in my balcony going back and forth, the salty smell, the sound that conforts you.
From the books full of recipies in the black shelf, and the kitchen's particular cookie dough smell.

I am from Christmas, from family meatings in the living room.
From dad shouting on Sundays because we are late to mass,
From mom cooking and teaching me, but failed,
From the boxes still unopened full of pictures and memories from another place.

From running till someone says "got ya!!",
From counting till 50 and seeking for friends,
From drawing in the white, huge walls, the walls that,--in that time-- where as tall as the Empire State, living a particular crayola smell all over the house,
From trying to cook, but there was a voice saying "Don't touch the oven!", the voice that freaked me out.

I am from teenage love, from the voice always telling me that what goes up must come down, so don't let yourself fall.
From watching movies all over again just because I loved one particular part,
From running like a little kid just because it relaxes me.

I am from Colombia, yet I am not in that place.
From the I don't want to move to another place, and the I don't want to go back.

I am from those moments.
From the befores and afters,
From the things that have happened,
and the things that I am still waiting for,
From reaching for stars,
and even if I don't grab them,
I still  feel like I am on the top of the world.

Article on Japan's Natural Disaster

It was 2:44 pm (local time) in Japan. It had been a normal day. People were at work, others at home. Kids were arriving from school--some, not all. The ocean was azure, so as the sky. Everything was so normal in Japan. People trafficking  accelerated and decelerated, everything was just normal until the clock marked 2:46 pm... Suddenly everything started shaking. People couldn't stand straight, they were fitful, not steady. A massive earthquake of 8.9 magnitude had hit Japan. You could hear people shouting, cars crashing, the sound was as audible as it could possibly be.

Minutes later, the floor stopped shaking. People thought everything was over, all the natural causes. They didn't expect any other natural disaster happening, but 15-30 minutes later, a copious amount of water flooded all Japan causing houses, cars, farms, factories, get on fire. It left a lot of people homeless, dead, and disappeared. This tsunami was a 10 meter one.

The number of deaths is still unclear since a lot of persons are still missing.

Adept people in tsunamis and earthquakes investigated how the tsunami formed. They said it preceeded from the earthquake which means that the earthquake cause the tsunami and prompted at least 19 countries and islands in the Pacific Ocean to have tsunami alerts.

After all of this happened, their have been a lot of aftershocks.

Interviews of people that were their in Japan--people who were eyewitnesses of the natural disaster and survived-- said and described how Japan ended being, destroyed. This made a big impact on its economy. This means Japan needs our help.

The House on Mango Street

The "House on Mango Street" by Sandra Cisneros is a memoir book that will take you on a journey on the main character's, a Mexican girl named Esperanza, life living in Chicago. This book has gained its title by being the street were Esperanza lived her childhood, teenage years, in Chicago.

This memoir is written in fabulous vignettes that will not only teach you about how hard it is for a Mexican to live in the United States, but in a metaphoric way, it will teach you about how Esperanza felt about being Mexican, her relationship with her family and friends, not having much friends because of were she was, how she matured, what happened to her in her teenager years and how Mango Street changed her and her way of seeing life.

Esperanza comes to realize how she has separate more from her home. How she has mature and become a more responsible girl through time, and how even though she still thinks she hasn't found a real home of her own, writing this story and living in Mango Street has make her realize some secrets about herself she didn't know.

"The House on Mango Street" is a really good memoir. I like how you have to re-read and actually think deeply in to Sandra's words, to really know what she is meaning. I had fun reading it because each vignette contains a story in which you could really realize how difficult it is for a Mexican girl to live in the United States.

Lines I Loved:


- "In English my name means hope. In Spanish it means too many letters. It means sadness, it means waiting."
-  "Sally, you lied, you lied. He wouldn’t let me go. He said I love you, I love you, Spanish girl."
-"She looked out the window her whole life, the way so many women sit their sadness on an elbow. I wonder if she made the best with what she got or was she sorry because she couldn’t be all the things she wanted to be. Esperanza. I have inherited her name, but I don’t want to inherit her place by the window."