destinations.”
He escorted our group to the most colorful bus I’d ever seen. It was silver, with blue and red stars and lettering painted on it. We climbed aboard and rode through the city streets. They were crowded with cars and trucks of all shapes and sizes. The people on the sidewalks looked tall and healthy. They walked briskly, alone or in pairs. Many of them carried leather or plastic bags. They wore coats, and a few wore hats. I marveled at their hair—blond, brown, black, and gray—sometimes straight, sometimes curly. I’d never seen such variety. We weren’t on the bus long, but I felt like I’d taken in a month’s worth of new sights. Then the bus stopped, and our guide told us to get off at our dormitory. It was really nice.
Like the other refugees, on the first day in the dormitory I was handed a thick parka and a pair of brown leather shoes. They were used, but I didn’t care. For all of us, these were wonderful gifts. We really needed those clothes, especially at night. They kept us warm. Nobody explained to us that if we were cold in our rooms, we could turn a heater on. In Cambodia, itis never cold, so we had never seen a heater. We did not know the purpose of the dials and boxes on the wall of our room. We were afraid to touch them.
One of the boys in the family took a shower. He said to me, “It was cold! I almost froze to death!” I went to investigate. When I turned the knob, I almost got burned to death. But I figured out the trick. We had to turn on both faucets to balance the hot and cold.
When it was time to eat—to get free food—I was usually first in line. I would pick up a tray and then select from a long counter packed full of foods. They looked like nothing I had eaten before. I tried something different for each meal. On the last morning, I saw something familiar—a bunch of bananas. We had bananas in Cambodia. “They must have everything here,” I thought.
On the third day, we were loaded onto the fanciest bus I had ever seen. I laughed at myself for having thought the bus that took us from the camp to the airport in Thailand was deluxe with its padded seats, matching upholstery, and bright paint. I was impressed by this bus, but I was amazed by the driver. It was a woman! I had never seen a woman drive a car, much less a bus. My brain was whirling.
More surprises awaited me. We approached the biggest bridge I had ever seen. Someone told me it was called the Golden Gate, but it wasn’t gold. It was dark red. No matter what its name was, how could a bridge be so long? We got closer and closer to it, and I realized wewere going to drive onto that bridge. I couldn’t believe it. We crossed that enormous span, riding in a huge bus, driven by a woman. “This country is amazing!” I said. I had never seen, experienced, or even imagined anything like it.
Eventually we boarded a plane to Portland, Oregon. From there, we got on another flight to Salem. I had survived the Khmer Rouge and the camps in Thailand. I had flown over the Pacific Ocean. I had crossed the Golden Gate Bridge in a bus driven by a woman. But I thought I would be killed on the tiny plane from Portland to Salem. It held only about twelve people. It flew really low, and the ride was very bumpy. On that flight, for the first time in my life I saw a fat person. Nobody in Cambodia was fat. He took up two seats. I thought his weight would make the plane crash.
To my great relief, in spite of that oversized man, we landed safely. The flight attendant opened the door, and I got in line to exit the plane. As soon as I stepped outside, I inhaled the crisp air, tinged with the smell of jet fuel. I saw people busy at work around me. Some of them wore bright orange uniforms. They were unloading baggage from the plane. Others were driving trucks that pulled trailers filled with suitcases. Everyone looked big, strong, and energetic. I thought, “These people eat three meals a day. This is a land of prosperity and
He escorted our group to the most colorful bus I’d ever seen. It was silver, with blue and red stars and lettering painted on it. We climbed aboard and rode through the city streets. They were crowded with cars and trucks of all shapes and sizes. The people on the sidewalks looked tall and healthy. They walked briskly, alone or in pairs. Many of them carried leather or plastic bags. They wore coats, and a few wore hats. I marveled at their hair—blond, brown, black, and gray—sometimes straight, sometimes curly. I’d never seen such variety. We weren’t on the bus long, but I felt like I’d taken in a month’s worth of new sights. Then the bus stopped, and our guide told us to get off at our dormitory. It was really nice.
Like the other refugees, on the first day in the dormitory I was handed a thick parka and a pair of brown leather shoes. They were used, but I didn’t care. For all of us, these were wonderful gifts. We really needed those clothes, especially at night. They kept us warm. Nobody explained to us that if we were cold in our rooms, we could turn a heater on. In Cambodia, itis never cold, so we had never seen a heater. We did not know the purpose of the dials and boxes on the wall of our room. We were afraid to touch them.
One of the boys in the family took a shower. He said to me, “It was cold! I almost froze to death!” I went to investigate. When I turned the knob, I almost got burned to death. But I figured out the trick. We had to turn on both faucets to balance the hot and cold.
When it was time to eat—to get free food—I was usually first in line. I would pick up a tray and then select from a long counter packed full of foods. They looked like nothing I had eaten before. I tried something different for each meal. On the last morning, I saw something familiar—a bunch of bananas. We had bananas in Cambodia. “They must have everything here,” I thought.
On the third day, we were loaded onto the fanciest bus I had ever seen. I laughed at myself for having thought the bus that took us from the camp to the airport in Thailand was deluxe with its padded seats, matching upholstery, and bright paint. I was impressed by this bus, but I was amazed by the driver. It was a woman! I had never seen a woman drive a car, much less a bus. My brain was whirling.
More surprises awaited me. We approached the biggest bridge I had ever seen. Someone told me it was called the Golden Gate, but it wasn’t gold. It was dark red. No matter what its name was, how could a bridge be so long? We got closer and closer to it, and I realized wewere going to drive onto that bridge. I couldn’t believe it. We crossed that enormous span, riding in a huge bus, driven by a woman. “This country is amazing!” I said. I had never seen, experienced, or even imagined anything like it.
Eventually we boarded a plane to Portland, Oregon. From there, we got on another flight to Salem. I had survived the Khmer Rouge and the camps in Thailand. I had flown over the Pacific Ocean. I had crossed the Golden Gate Bridge in a bus driven by a woman. But I thought I would be killed on the tiny plane from Portland to Salem. It held only about twelve people. It flew really low, and the ride was very bumpy. On that flight, for the first time in my life I saw a fat person. Nobody in Cambodia was fat. He took up two seats. I thought his weight would make the plane crash.
To my great relief, in spite of that oversized man, we landed safely. The flight attendant opened the door, and I got in line to exit the plane. As soon as I stepped outside, I inhaled the crisp air, tinged with the smell of jet fuel. I saw people busy at work around me. Some of them wore bright orange uniforms. They were unloading baggage from the plane. Others were driving trucks that pulled trailers filled with suitcases. Everyone looked big, strong, and energetic. I thought, “These people eat three meals a day. This is a land of prosperity and
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