First Few Days in the City

Story of a man's immigration journey from a primitive African village to the United States Air Force Academy as an international exchange cadet. Stark images of the dissonance between two worlds, one where poverty reigns and the other where goodwill outweighs good sense. This book reveals the epic struggle of immigrants everywhere searching for a better life in the United States, only to find that what they've left behind haunts them even past pledging their allegiance to a new flag of hope.  Adopting America contains vivid imagery of what it's like to try to exist within a world that is not your own--of how it feels to adopt the ways of the Western world. A true story of International Adoption intertwines with the plot to give a realistic view of what it's like to adopt children from a third world country and hope they adopt American ways.  This book also includes a detailed account of life as an international exchange cadet at the United States Air Force Academy, with contrasts to third world military systems in comparison to the more developed U.S. military.

Story of a man’s immigration journey from a primitive African village to the United States Air Force Academy as an international exchange cadet. Stark images of the dissonance between two worlds, one where poverty reigns and the other where goodwill outweighs good sense. This book reveals the epic struggle of immigrants everywhere searching for a better life in the United States, only to find that what they’ve left behind haunts them even past pledging their allegiance to a new flag of hope.
Adopting America contains vivid imagery of what it’s like to try to exist within a world that is not your own–of how it feels to adopt the ways of the Western world. A true story of International Adoption intertwines with the plot to give a realistic view of what it’s like to adopt children from a third world country and hope they adopt American ways.
This book also includes a detailed account of life as an international exchange cadet at the United States Air Force Academy, with contrasts to third world military systems in comparison to the more developed U.S. military.

‘city living’ is Googled around 246,000 times per month globally.
Those first few months in the city felt like a dance in which I had two right feet. I didn’t fit in anywhere. Though the city was still uncivilized compared to the United States, it was very progressive compared to the village. I stuck out like a sore thumb, as a country bumpkin type who was completely unaware of the latest trends and social protocols. I’ll never forget my first day of school in the city. I quickly became the most popular student in class because everyone took notice of the new plastic shoes I wore with great pride. It had been my understanding, or should I say misunderstanding—that the plastic flip flops we were fighting to wear in the village, were universally acceptable as the latest trend. My pride quickly diminished and my face felt hot with shame as I tried to hold my head high in spite of the taunts and teasing. This was not the first time I would face embarrassment because of missing the style boat and it wouldn’t be the last. My redemption would be superior academic performance. No one would ever want to sit beside me because I was cool. But everyone would eventually want to sit somewhere close to me because they knew I had the right answers.

Having gained popularity in school, I was feeling a little more confident that I’d eventually find my own in this new place that at one time had felt completely over my head. Living with my aunt, in such close quarters, with nieces and nephews who were increasingly jealous of my mere presence, was enough to create a level of stress that distracted from my ambition for excelling in school. If it weren’t for some of the friends that I had made at school who were from more affluent backgrounds, I would have been stuck with rarely anything to eat. Certain of my friends’ parents would always send them to school with enough money to buy lunch and snacks at break. Those friends were gracious enough to give me a bite of food here and there and some of them even bought me my very own beignet or doughnut at times. A classmate, who would later turn out to be my best friend, gave me a pair of tennis shoes and some nice clothes, so that I could fit in a little better. I’m still in touch with him today. And though I will always owe him for bringing me up to date in the city, he was one of the first ones I tried to repay by sending him part of my cadet pay upon my arrival at the academy.

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