My journey to the United States began from Guyana, South America. Guyana is a small country surrounded by Brazil, Venezuela, and Suriname. I don’t remember much about living in Guyana, due to the fact that I was only seven years old when my parents decided to migrate to the United States. During the 1970’s, Human rights and civil liberties were suppressed. The government was corrupt and racial violence was erupting. My father feared for the safety of his family, so in 1980 he contacted my extended family in the United States and asked them to sponsor my mother and siblings. My father had to stay behind to tie up some loose ends.
Our first destination in the United Stated was Maryland. We stayed with my Aunt for a few months, then my father’s family in California insisted we head west. My mother and four siblings boarded a Greyhound bus, and seven days later we arrived in Colusa, California, a small farm town outside Sacramento. We lived there for over a year, and in 1981 my father received his sponsorship and was allowed to join his family. Not long after his arrival, he got a job in South Lake Tahoe as an artist.
We arrived in Lake Tahoe during a historical winter season. The snow level was record high. My siblings and I had never seen snow. My brothers loved it, but I have to admit I wasn’t thrilled. I remember it being very cold! Coming from a tropical climate, as a child I loved running around with my shirt off and no shoes. I was very displeased that I now had to layer my clothing. At first, I thought the snow would never stop. But finally when summer came, I was able to better appreciate the beauty of Lake Tahoe. Over the years, I grew to really appreciate all that Tahoe has to offer year-round. I learned to ski so that I could enjoy the winters, but my heart still truly belongs to the summer season. As an adult, I really feel fortunate to have grown up in one of the most beautiful places on earth!