Thursday, August 22, 2019
Turning Point Of My Life Essay Example for Free
Turning Point Of My Life Essay The engines of the 747 jumbo passenger jet roared loudly in my ears with a resonance that said â€Å"There’s no turning back.† I tried to ignore this humming, chanting, vibrating message shaking my legs and rocking my spine. I fumbled with the cool, silver metal of my seatbelt buckle and checked one more time that I was really locked in. I felt the aircraft rolling left, then taxiing right, and I tried as best I could to believe it knew the best way to go.  I took Sonia’s slender hand in my own clammy palm without ever looking up. In my mind I saw the historic monuments and pastoral countryside of France sweeping past, out of view, though I knew I was still safely on the runway. I saw my mother and father, my lifelong friends. And then my back pushed hard against the seat as the engines raged into a frenzy and the wheels of the airplane lost contact with the ground.            As a small child in France I used to play with my best friend XXXX in the schoolyard. We were equipped with arsenals of toy cars and trunks, ships and robots. I always loved the airplanes best; I remember holding them as high as I could against the backdrop of the blue sky, my point of view convincing me I was among the clouds, thousands of feet above our little playground. I would climb to the top of the slide and continue my flight, achieving the most spectacular heights with which no boy, anywhere, could compete. I imagined flying away to parts of the world I didn’t yet have names for, exploring mountain peaks and silty ocean bottoms. I ventured alone into the furthest reaches of the globe, a fearless pilot explorer. As I sat now in the belly of a real life airplane, soaring off to meet my destiny, I hoped I was as brave now as I was back then.            They told me lots of things about Washington, D.C. They told me to be careful as the crime rate was high and I didn’t want to get shot. They told me the Washington Monument was a sight to behold. They told me Washington was where political deals are made that affect the entire planet. They told me D.C. was the land of opportunity. I couldn’t wait to get there and find out who was right and who was wrong. I wondered how the Promised Land would compare with France, the only land I’d ever called home.            I knew Sonia was excited. We were like twins, she and I. Same small home town, same field of study, same destination. She displayed the kind of adventuresome free spirit I did as a little boy, and I admired her for it. We were both giddy to move into our cozy new apartment together and finally begin a life together, on our own to make it or break it. We were all starry eyes and heads full of possibility as we hurtled over the ocean toward the land they called America. We grasped each others hands tighter as we told bad jokes and laughed nervous laughs about what awaited us when the wheels of our aircraft touched the ground.            Back in France, my brother Georges and I loved watching sports together on the weekends. We’d argue over our favorite teams and cheer on the local favorites over lots of food and drinks. We’d been close growing up and I knew I’d miss those weekend bonding sessions. I wondered when and if Georges would get the chance to come to the States to see his brother, a big time Business major in Washington.  And what about mom and dad? I knew they were at once sad and overjoyed that their little boy was rushing off to make something of himself, and I wondered which emotion won out. I hoped, for their sake and mine, that they were happy in the knowledge that I was growing up alright. As Sonia quietly sipped a complimentary diet soda, I could see in her eyes that she was having the same wistful thoughts of home. I told her it was all going to be ok and that, hey, we would practically be neighbors with George W. Bush. We both had a good laugh at that one.            As I alternated between watching the second hand on my watch tick off the time and staring out over the billowing clouds below, I daydreamed of the future. I saw our cozy apartment, furnished with a nice sofa and chairs, a television, and our very own bowls, plates, cups, and silverware.  I imagined us under a blanket on a frosty D.C. night, watching American sitcoms and eating take-out. I saw us working feverishly behind computers and in libraries, expanding our minds and moving closer toward our goals. We would hang out with our new American friends in American bars and drink American beer. We would go see American rock concerts and joke about how Americans think we French folks are rude. Maybe one day we’d get a dog or a cat. The possibilities seemed fascinating and endless.            As the plane made its final descent, my heart was in my throat. â€Å"This is it,†the engines of the plane said. Once again I checked my safety belt to make sure I was fastened in. Though I loved to fly, the landing was always my favorite. I loved seeing the expanse of a new city, laid out in miniature before my eyes. I loved to watch as the tiny model world with me floating above it became the looming, real world with me in the middle. Sonia and I smiled oversized, childlike smiles at each other as the wheels of the jet rubbed against the concrete landing strip, sending small puffs of up smoke into the air. We bobbled and bumped along the jet way as the passengers stretched and gossiped amongst themselves until, finally, the plane came to a stop.            Sonia and I departed the plane, hand in hand, and breathed in the air of our new home. The airport seemed to heave in and out with the swarms of people moving through it. Momentarily, all thoughts of home, my childhood, and my future departed as I became intoxicated with the overwhelming here and now. We stopped briefly for a greasy airport hamburger before hustling to collect our baggage and hail our first American cab to take us home. Anxious, Sonia did a little dance next to her bags as I waited for the cabby to load our things into his bright yellow vehicle. We closed the cab doors behind us with a bang and were on our way.            Sonia and I have been enjoying our new life in the States. We finally got our things unpacked and situated in our cozy new apartment. We do all of the things I’d imagined on that airplane, and then some. In some ways life in a new country is like life on another planet, and Sonia and I enjoyed playing the extraterrestrials. Each day at a shopping mall and each night at a club or a theater was a new adventure. We were in uncharted territory and we wanted to map as much ground as we possibly could, drinking in the ups and downs of our newfound culture.            Of course, we became engrossed in our studies. Though we are early on in our American education, I can sense the small milestones as we work our way along toward that fateful graduation day. Until then, we enjoy our classmates and our professors and try to do the best we can with what we have. We’re very lucky to be here, as so many people in the world never see the land beyond their hometown. We’ve seen the lands beyond and the waters in between.            As for my friends back home, I keep up with them via email and telephone. I wonder how people must have gotten by without the wonders of the Internet. I e-mail photos back home of Sonia and me at various landmarks and field questions about what it’s like living in Washington. Of course, I inquire as to how my old pals are doing and try to keep up on the latest local gossip from home. A couple of my friends have promised to come and visit, and I certainly hope they do. Experiences like this are so much better when you can share them with people who really know you.            And then there’s Georges. We keep in touch the same way, and I keep him up to speed on American sports while he fills me in on French sports. I’m trying to get him excited about American football, but I don’t know that I’m succeeding. Sometimes we talk on the phone on during weekend sporting events and for awhile it is almost like we’re back home again, together.            Sonia and I are discovering what it’s like to live together as a couple. We bicker about small and unimportant details like an old married couple, but we enjoy it and we’re enjoying our time together. We’re beginning to learn what it’s like having to give in to each other’s wants and needs in order to keep each other happy. We talk about the future, about next year, about what happens after graduation. We enjoy making plans but are careful to also enjoy the present. Someday when I’m an important business executive, I’ll look back at my time in college as the best time of my life. I want to live life and remember as much of it as I can.            Of course I miss my family, my friends and my France. Some things here will just never compare – I think most people feel that way about home. Restaurants will never compare to my mother’s cooking and even my best American friends won’t remember the time I fell down on the playground and skinned my knee. My time away from everybody has made me appreciate them all more and I look forward to the times when we get to talk.            Sometimes I think back to that time in the plane on the French runway. I think about my sweaty palms and the roar of the engine and the tight seatbelt. I think about my uncertainty towards leaving my home country, and I think about how well we’re adjusting so far. I feel the same way when I think about my life and what my future holds – I hear the roaring jet engines telling me â€Å"This is it.† I guess all one can do is try their best and keep moving forward. Stepping onto that airplane is the hardest part. After that all you can do is sit back and enjoy the ride.
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