Where I'm From

I’m from sport balls,
Spalding and Nike

I am from a house with wooden floor,
From the cocker spaniel jumping on the
Visitors legs. With the garden in the backyard,
That host birds who sing while we eat.

I’m from the colorful garden with
Veraneras, sunflowers, and lillies.

I’m from cramping in the couch, to watch and cheer
For the boxers fighting for their money and ultimately their live.
From a family of giants in a city of dwarves.
From Uncle Omar and Pocho lighting the family
Reunions with their humor.
From the Campos but living with the Espinosa.

I’m from watching la cascara and
Taking a walk at night, with my family trailing behind me.

From “that’s my son” when I excel to
“you can do better” when I’m average.

I am from the first communion, which
All members have completed.
But none go to church.

I’m from Panama, and only Panama
A place known for its canal and dictator.
A place where you eat arroz con pollo and carimanolas

From when my dad tells me about his childhood. How
He would go into the forrest with only a knive, and hunt
Animals for experiments, instead of being lost in a virtual world
Like us.

I am from a thick picture book which
Frames memories that will never be forgotten.
But filled with dust, from the accumulation of days
It was deserted.

This tree is one with strong roots in this
Fertile land. A tree that once was a sappling
But grew to be an oak. I am a small branch
Of this tree, but one day I will make
This tree grown and be stronger.

The disaster of Japan was a truly devastating one. It was a tsunami ravaging anything on its path, preceded by a magnitude 9 earthquake. Copious amounts of people are dead, and many others are grappling to stay alive. This natural disaster was especially devastating because Japan is not really a capacious country, but it’s filled with people regardless.
The tsunami was audible from a long distance away because it took down everything crossing its path; tainting the azure of the water with blood and debris. The tsunami didn’t seem to decelerate as it took down everything it stuck in its current.
The earthquake was magnitude 9, with its epicenter in the Pacific Ocean, which was the reason for the tsunami. The earthquake is the most powerful recorded in the Japan in at least 100 years. It also was 8,000 thousand times stronger than the most recent quake in New Zealand.
Many other countries are aiding Japan by deploying many adept life savers to rescue all the trapped people who are still alive. It is crucial for the live savers to be fastidious as they dig through the remains of houses so they find people who are still alive.

Book Review: The House on Mango Street

The title of the book isThe House on Mango Street because, it is the place where Esperanza lived in for a year. She was always ashamed of her house because it looked, it symbolized her being ashamed of who she is. The neighborhood holds many bad memories for Esperanza so she doesn’t want to be part of it, or ever recognize she was part of it.

This is the memoir of Esperanza, a young, mexican girl who lives in the United States in a tough neighborhood. She is subject to racism for being mexican, and subject to sexism for being a women. She strives to become independent and surpass all the limitations society has imposed her. Her depictions of the world through her use of metaphors makes you feel as if you were seeing what she has described.

This book is organized in vignettes. They range from one page to five pages. The vignettes are told in chronological order, but she skips in time. She never goes back though. All vignettes have names, and no pictures are given, no need for the pictured because of her vivid portrayal.

The memoirist has come to realize on the book that she isn’t the steryotipical women, because she doesn’t want to be trapped in the kitchen, making sandwhiches for men, when they come back from work. She wants to be like men, in the sense that she wants to go out, and work, and not need to be dependent on marrying a welathy man to be succesful.

I think that this book was one of the best I’ve read in a while. I loved the message that it held, and her out of ordinary metaphors.

Lines We Love:
“At school they say my name funny as if the syllables were made out of tin and hurt the roof of your mouth. But in Spanish my name is made out of a softer something, like silver, not quite as thick as sister’s name – Magdalena- which is uglier than mine.” Pg.11.