July 23, 2017 was the day I made my journey to America. That day will forever remain in my mind like a printed book. At five in the evening, my family and I drove to Jomo Kenyatta international airport where we were supposed to take our flight. The flight was longer than I expected and my seat was uncomfortable. I spent most of my time watching movies on the television attached behind the seats and sometimes reading novels. The flight attendant soon comforted everyone with refreshments until we finally arrived at Washington, DC.

I never actually imagined myself coming to America, but finally my feet were in the capital city of this great country. We were impressed immediately upon arrival by the airport buildings. With its incredible glass, the sun shines through, casting beautiful shadows on the pavement. We also impressed by how the airport security welcomed us. One thing I liked when I stepped in the airport is that, all the people being courteous. The airport was full of people from all over the world with one thing in common, happiness.

After another three hour flight, we reached Denver. We were received by my mom and relatives. We drove to Greeley. In the town, everything was organized and so calm. The summer day, the mountains, the hot weather… “this is America!” I told myself. I really couldn’t compare the country I left and this one.

After staying for some weeks, I had to register myself at a nearby school Greeley West. Arriving at the school, the first impression was excellent. In the front of the school there is a huge statue holding where it is written “PRIDE TO ALL WHO ENTERS” I was flabbergasted, when I think back of my school in Kenya. I tell myself America is a beacon of hope.

When the school was officially opened in August, that first Monday marked the first day I sat in a classroom where all students were white. I liked the way they welcomed me. Also on that day, I realized that people do speak English but with a different accent.

Honestly the students are really nice and helpful but when they try to speak with me, it’s as if all words become small birds and fly so fast that I couldn’t seize them. It was really hard to have dialogue with my classmates. In Kenya we speak with British accents and in Kenya, English was the measure of intelligence but in America is just a language.

The only thing I could do that day is to sit in the class and smile as If I drank laughing gas. It felt so silly. When the first day ended, my face was almost hard-shelled because of the all-day smile.

The other thing I liked in America school is technology, teachers use computer, projectors to teach their students in a cool classroom but in Kenya where I studied my elementary and part of high school education, teachers use blackboard and chalk to teach under the scorching sun. In Kenya, it was rare for me to step in a room which got air conditioning. Kenya was hell compared to the great country “America.”