Personal Narrative: My Cultural Journey

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Pages: 3

My dad, Rich DaLuz, was born in Hong Kong. He had a great childhood by being surrounded by aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents when he lived there. However, at the age of four, his mom and dad informed him and his little brother that they were going to move. Moving didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time. Little did my dad know moving meant going to live across the Pacific Ocean in Vancouver, Canada. This was a lot of information for a four year old to digest.

The journey began when my dad said goodbye to the family he knew, to go to a strange place called Vancouver. “What about that America place, Mom?” my dad asked his mom as they waited in line at the airport.
“Well we can’t go there just yet… We’ll go there soon. Okay?” this were the words my dad recalled asking my grandma as they waited at the airport with his dad and little brother. This was because the quota for the U.S. was filled for that year and they only had the options to move to Australia or Canada. As they boarded the plane with other families immigrating to Canada my dad began to cry as he sat down on the seat of the airplane. Just as the hot tears began to run down his face, and hit the seats, he realized
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He feels fortunate to move to the U.S. at such a young age where he wasn’t old enough to be aware of the fact that he was moving was for better opportunity, rather than just for fun which is what he thought going through the whole process. At such a young age, it was more of an adventure. Settling to life into Vancouver and Hong Kong was easy for him as all he had to do was to settle into a different preschool and a new class for the second grade. Overall, my dad doesn’t consider himself as an immigrant because he only left his home at the age of four with not many struggles and fitting right in versus the people who have come to the U.S. or Canada later in