 | |  |
 |
|
|
|
My
Journey from Afghanistan to the United States |
Posted:
10.16.06
|
|
|
A 16-year-old from Afghanistan writes about his memories of Taliban
violence, the Sept. 11 attacks and recent changes in the lifestyle
of Afghan youth.
The student began learning English five years ago and wrote this
essay in 2006 while participating in the U.S. State department-funded
Afghanistan Youth Exchange and Study (YES) program.
|
|
|
|
|
I was born in 1990 in southern Afghanistan.
When the Taliban war started, I was five years old. We moved
to Pakistan, but two years later we were back in Afghanistan,
living with my mother's family.
 I
went to school and my father went to work for the Afghan Health
and Development Service, which helps villages build hospitals
and water lines. We treasured the fun times we had with family
when war ended, but the Taliban were still in control, and they
were very strict.
The Taliban made us shave our hair every month. The one time
I forgot to shave my hair, I was taken to the school's administrator
and beaten. I was so upset I never wanted to go back to school,
but my uncle told me not to let them win, to never quit, and to
get a good education.
|
|
|
Remembering
the Sept. 11 attacks |
|
|
|
|
|
When I was eleven years old, attending public school and learning
English at a private center, one of my friends told me that two
airplanes had crashed into the World Trade Center. I didn't know
what or where the World Trade Center was -- my father told me
when I went home.
A month later, my friends told me that American soldiers were
giving warnings to the Taliban to leave Afghanistan.
I heard the sound of a bomb. My father told me it was American
soldiers, but everyone was confused about what was happening.
I ran to the roof. I could see windows were broken in houses and
the electricity had been cut off. I could see fire at the airport
and I could hear the sound of jets. They were bombing another
place: the home of the leader of the Taliban.
My family stayed at a relative's house for three weeks as the
bombing and shooting continued in the city. When the bombs came
closer to us, we decided to move again -- back to Pakistan. We
stayed there until the Taliban left, about three months.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Returning
home |
|
|
|
|
|
As we passed through a checkpoint guarded by Afghan soldiers,
I heard music, something we had not been allowed for many years.
It made me so happy. When we returned to our home, I looked down
the streets saw that stores had televisions for sale -- I had
never watched television before.
At school, there were many changes. We had new teachers and a
new principal. Two months later, it was announced that we could
wear jeans and T-shirts. And now girls could go to school too,
though not in the same place.
I continued my English lessons and started using a computer my
father brought from Pakistan. I taught my brothers about computers,
and, in 2004, I started teaching English. In the fall of 2005,
I started participating in the Youth Exchange and Study program.
Teachers helped us with English, cultural differences, American
literature, writing and public speaking as we prepared for our
trip to the United States. This was the first time I had ever
talked to a girl outside my family.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Learning
a new culture |
|
|
|
|
|
Once I was in the United States, my host family gave me my own
room and bathroom. in my home in Afghanistan, I had always shared.
I also had to get used to the food. I learned about McDonald's
and tacos -- we don't have anything like them in Afghanistan.
I was nervous about picking classes, making friends and doing
well in school. It was also the first time I was at school with
girls. In Afghanistan, girls only started going to school four
years. Now, I was going to be in the same classroom with them.
I am still getting used to the differences between Afghanistan
and the United States, and I'm learning every day -- some mountains
are small and some are big, but I keep climbing. As I learn about
the culture here, I hope I can leave a little of mine behind by
telling the story of my journey.
--
The 16-year-old Afghan-native student that wrote this essay came
to a rural Iowa high school in 2006 as part of the one-year The
Afghanistan Youth Exchange and Study (YES) program. The U.S. State
department-funded Afghanistan YES program brought 40 Afghan students
to U.S. high schools in the 2006-2007 school year.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Like many Californians, I live in a town where teenagers drive to school in gas-guzzling SUVs and pick-up trucks just because they want to look powerful and extravagant.
