American or Romanian? If someone would ever ask me to choose between the two, I would not know what to tell them. Well actually, I might reveal the answer soon. Probably not. Lets just leave it at “you’ll eventually know the answer.” Anyways, back on  topic. Decisions. One decision can change the rest of your life. I know you may have heard this over and over again, but it’s astonishing how it only takes one, just one, to change 80, 90, or even 100 years of your life or even generations in the future. It’s amazing. My parents made a decision that would affect their lives greatly, and my life too. They got the news on our religious holiday for Orthodox known as “Buna Vestire” or in English it translates to “Good News.” It is the day when we celebrate the birthgiver of God, receiving the news that she will have the Son of God. My parents around the time of April, 1999 immigrated from Romania here to America. They saw many opportunities here and had decided to come and seek success, because they heard life in America was like no other. But they faced many challenges, but the stories are the things that remain and will be told in this paper. With my brother at the age of 5, and I three months from being born, my parents left their home country to become complete strangers in America. It was a struggle for them to come here. They knew one language: Romanian. Also, they knew nobody here. Absolutely nobody. They picked up their baggages, said goodbye to our crying grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins, and the moment the wheel of the plane lost contact with the ground, there was no turning back. Our lives had changed forever.

My brother holding the hands with my father was walking through the airport. He held my dad’s hand tightly, and as time went on he tighten his grip, he was scared, and so were my parents, but they knew everything would turn out fine as they stood looking for their baggage, and hearing many different languages around them, seeinging many people, they came to the realization that they needed to get and meet up with the people that we didn’t even know, but we were told from our grandparents that this family would give let us stay at their home until we found a place to stay. Weeks passed and we moved into an apartment near the lake in downtown Chicago. My parents walked into the lobby, and went straight to the person at the desk. My parents talked for ten minutes until my mother and brother went up to the room. My dad stayed because he was called to the manager. My mom remembers my father walking into the new apartment, incredibly happy, but for many different reasons and even with all hardships they faced all the reasons of happiness could be read like a book, and one was that he got a job offer to work at the building as a maintenance man, another was that they finally have their own home, part of the stress was no longer there, and the reason his face was glowing most was because I was on the way and was not long from being an addition to the new house, because how can you not be happy, I’m pretty awesome and I turned out to be pretty amazing, but he forgot that I would soon bring back more problems, but that didn’t matter for him. My brother asleep, my dad was telling my mom what had just happened. The head maintenance person and engineer of that building was Romanian, The person, Ovidiu, after talking with my dad thought he was capable of the job and told him to show up to an interview with the manager tomorrow that will ask him the things he could do for the job. After he told my mom everything he went straight to studying, because the interview was in English and he knew nothing about the language. Of course Ovidiu and my father spoke in Romanian, but my dad was devastated when he heard he He did not know a single word in English. My father studied all night and at 5:30 am he went down to the lobby to see Ovidiu with a smirk on his face. There was never a interview. Ovidiu made everything up to scare my dad a little, but never told him until morning. But that whole night, and I mean the whole night my dad did not sleep to learn 5 words.

“I know how to change bulb.”

We still laugh at it today, and he was so relieved when when Ovidiu told him it was a joke. Ovidiu later became my godfather and he’s a very important person in my life today. They soon got straight to work, and it turned out my dad loved working there. Romania was passed them, and they no longer wished to turn back.

Forward three months, aannnnnnddddd STOP! Perfect! I’m a month from my first breaths after 9 long months of moving, and flying. If you ask me, I wasn’t as comfortable as you think it was. So anyways, next is another story where sadly I’m not involved, but technically I’m still “there” waiting to meet my family. Another story that was part of the journey to America. One sunny day, very sunny, hot, and humid like the Chicago weather usually is, you know, just great weather (sarcasm). My mom had to take her driver's exam to get her license, because being able to drive would make things so much easier. Well she woke up early. And was getting ready to leave, but realized my brother would be left home alone because my dad was at work. My mom was warned to leave children at home. I honestly do not know why that was a rule, back then, but it just was. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t leave him home alone. He was five. So she took him with. She arrived at the place and was told to go to the car parked in front, while the instructor was getting the papers ready. They somehow did not see my brother and my mom walked out the door and went into the car. My brother went into the back seat, but crawled in between the the passenger seat in the front and the back seat, and my mother threw a blanket over him so the instructor would not see. Anyhow, the instructor arrived, and my mom was ready. Well, sort of ready. Remember that her English wasn’t the best out there. But the instructor once he got into the car, the first thing he said was, “Sorry, but the air conditioning is not working today.” My brother stood quietly there burning, absolutely just sweating gallons of sweat while my mom was receiving instructions from the teacher. She was doing well, but struggled on one simple instruction.

“Honk the horn,” he stated.

My mom stumbled on this and just froze. But to note, my brother has been in kindergarten and was starting to pick up on some English.

“Honk the horn,” he repeated.

Nothing.

“Claxoneaza Mami,” a voice said softly.

It was my brother. He knew what honk the horn had meant and quietly said it in Romanian for my mom to hear. But instead she froze even more, hoping that the instructor didn’t hear him. And he didn’t.

She finally honked the horn.

It turned out to be that last thing he asked for and he took the keys and left. My mom and brother waited until the teacher went back into his office and my mom quickly pulled out my drenched in sweat brother and hugged him very tightly.

I remember being happy too. Just kidding. I remember burning inside my mom’s stomach on that 105 degree day.
Well obviously the journey to America didn’t end here, and there are more stories, but I can’t say them all because this would be a pretty longer paper. But I presented you with some. Well here I am now writing this essay at my high school in Park Ridge Illinois, so we can say everything went just fine. But the journey until today is what makes me the person I am today. I always persevere. I’m never the person to give up on anything and there is a reason for that. It is because I had never and probably will never face the difficulties and challenges that my parents faced when coming to this totally strange country. And they succeed. So am I American or Romanian? This paper does not really answer the question, and that's not the purpose of it. But if I had to say. I’m Romanian and American. A Romanian living in America.