I came to America a full month ago, I cried the first day I moved into the dorm; I was the only Chinese on my floor. I could still clearly remember how awkward I was when our R.A. let us do the ”breaking ice” part. Nobody would even want to talk to me! Girls got together and peered me in a strange way, I could hear them say “Look at her clothes, she’s so weird.”, I was wondering whether they realized that I could speak English and I could totally hear what they were “whispering”; boys, at the meantime, said that ”I couldn’t imagine there could be such a strange girl sitting in our class!” I was indeed, hurt and upset, but couldn’t speak out even a word, however, how I wish I could shout out aloud ”What’s wrong with being a foreigner?” After the meeting, I was kind of crumble; I strongly wished that I could find a Chinese and told him or her what I was struggling from. I didn’t care whether he was a stranger or not, as long as he was a Chinese, as long as he understand me!
Few days after, I made some Chinese friends, we mostly do everything together now and my pain due to loneliness curred. We encouraged each other, we share the same feeling, we know our own customs, and what’s more, we are able to tell our thinking exactly by using our own language. Though before we came to U.S., we all have thought about not to speak Chinese at all, we realize we do need each other, we do need speak our own language under some conditions.
There goes an old saying,a friend indeed, is a friend in need. If one could sacrifice his time, listen to your voice and help you, who cares he is a stranger or not, and I believe we could call this kind of person “friend” to some extent, even though they have just met for the first time.
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