Young Southern Student Writer 2012

E.E.U.U "I'd like you to know that…" started my Dad. My parents, my younger sisters, and me were sitting around the wooden stable in the small kitchen, listening to my Dad, who had a very, very important announcement to make. My mom simply watched silently.

“Volkswagen is sending us to Germany, huh?” I impatiently interrupted. I had overheard my parents speaking about moving and VW, and Germany was my best guess. But my Dad was quick to respond, “No, we are going to the United States of America.” My jaw immediately dropped in shock. However, even I was a little dubious at first, moving to America has introduced me to a new world and culture, and has benefitted me in many ways.

The date was July 9th, a cold, cloudy day in Pamplona, my Spanish city of origin. My family, including my grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins, were huddled inside the Noain Airport, waiting for the officials to call us on board. It had been a while, close to two years, since I had been at the small airport, and that had been only for short flights to Barcelona to visit my older cousin. The airport had changed a lot in that time. A new terminal was being built right beside the old one, who know what for, since we only had about five to seven daily flights, and the runway was fairly new. My dad told me that sometimes money was wasted in pointless investments, and he also added that was something I could see in America quite often.

“Americans love to plan for their future, and they usually make the right choices, but they are great consumers, too. They are easily attracted into buying objects they don’t need. New computer, new phone, new sneakers… what are they for if you already have some?”

I was thinking about that statement, looking at the lone store in a side of the airport, when a female voice called the passengers of flight A-number-something-number to the security scan. We had already managed the papers and checked the big baggage, now all that was left for the moment was getting on the actual plane. Final kisses and hugs were delivered, tears were shed, but we broke off and walked through the security scan. It was then, when I realized there was no turning back, that I realized how nervous I was. I was moving to a different city, a new county, a whole other continent! And I was moving away from my grandparents, whom I had lived next to all my life. I had never gone past Madrid, or further north than Paris, or even been out of Europe! As we entered the innter waiting room, I managed to look at my grandparents one last time. Then they were gone, and, before I knew it, we were ushered into the small Airbus. I clicked my seat belt, smiled at my parents, and we took off towards Madrid.

Madrid, or rather its airport, sometimes seemed to flash by, while in other moments it seemed to crawl very slowly.

As we touched down, I saw the four towers of Madrid, and I instantly knew they were the biggest buildings I had ever seen. I could not help but wonder if Atlanta had bigger skyscrapers. After landing, we got our luggage, and then went through a line that looked a hundred feet long. We managed the papers and went through the security scan, and, after walking for an hour through the long corridors of Madrid’s airport, we entered terminal T, the international branch of the airport. The ceilings towered thirty feet tall, colossal steel beams supported the structure, and the glass panels that covered the left wall allowed you to see the whole runway. There were jets, small Airbuses, and Boeings of all sizes attached to the sides of the terminal. “One of those Delta ones will take us to America,” I thought as I craned my neck to see the long rows of small, round windows that ran down the side of the planes. I took all of these in as we traversed the wide open terminal, looking for our flight’s waiting area. Once we were seated, I could not help but compare the airport we were in with the one that awaited across the Atlantic. Would it be as big as this one? Older? Modern? I turned to my parents, who had already been in Atlanta, and asked, “How big is Atlanta’s airport?”

“Immense. There are plenty of jets and big plans all around, and there are tons of people every day of the week,” 299