I never used to  celebrate birthdays in my country. But my 29th birthday was indeed a strange one. It was the same day that  I got my green card. I felt like someone who just finished his jail sentence. I was very happy.  My happiness didn't last that long because the family in Missouri that I was planning on going to live with had asked  me to wait 3 months. I wished I could have taken the flight to USA on the same day when I got my visa, instead of waiting that long. I started looking for someone who could help me. For two weeks, I couldn't get any sleep or meal because I was so nervous.

                  One day someone in my family told me that his childhood friend had been  living in the USA . He gave me his phone number. I contacted him, and I asked him to help me. One week later, he told me to come over here to CT because he arranged a place for me to live in.

                  On the other hand, I knew my unplanned trip needed a lot of money. I had already spent like a thousand dollars for getting my green card . I knew everyone who was around me was broke.  My two sisters borrowed the money from their jobs to come over and offered me the expenses for the  trip. Then I flew to USA on May 14th 2011.

                  My parents became more emotional with me because I was going to leave them. My mom started to treat me like a child. I remember one morning when I went  to the kitchen for breakfast, my mom was baking the Moroccan bread and listening to a song on the radio. The song  was asking people who want to move from their home to stay, before they  regretted it .

                     When the song said ''Many people moved before you and I ,but they regret it now''. My mom was singing  this sentence loudly. She wanted me to hear it. I sang with her too with a large smile. Her question then was '' when will you come back my son?'' 

 When the news talked about H1N1 VIRUS on those days, she said ''look how many people were killed there''. When my first company wanted me to come back for the job, my mother wanted me to accept the offer and stay in the country . I knew in her gut that she wanted me to stay. I knew she was very worried about me like all mothers would be .

                     In the beginning, my father's opinion was  that my visa just a fake. Now he  had changed his mind. Maybe it was when I showed him my passport was signed, or when he heard my conversation with the man who lived in USA. 

                       The morning came when I went to take the car from my city Meknes to the Casa Blanca airport . It was  more emotional because my parents, sisters and I started crying .  Personally,  I can't  stand to see people crying especially my parents and lovely persons .  Their hugs were full of warmth and love. I fled into the car. I wanted to move faster before I lost my strength. I hoped that I could close my eyes and open them, and I would be in the USA.  

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                People in  Morocco say "if you are an adult, you have to work and make your own money". But how?  If you can't find a job or make enough money with jobs that have bad conditions.

                My childhood was happy as whole. I lived in a poor area where all the neighbors knew each other, so there were more emotions, more feelings. We were like a big family. But when I grew up everything had changed. Many families moved from the area where I lived  . Many friends  left school early. Now they have their own  jobs and own families. But me, who  spent a long time in school, university and the institute,  I  still couldn't get a better job or own a home .

 

          

            I started hating myself, especially when I was doing nothing, and when my father came back from hard work, very exhausted. I kissed his hand, then I left home so I could be alone. I asked myself  "What  am I going to  do?" .       

            When I kissed his hand I was following a tradition of Arab children, and where I grew up people did it , but that time my kiss was different. It meant a lot . It meant "I am sorry dad. Your hope was disappointed in your son who has lack of gumption, and now he is only able to eat ,sleep and go to toilet." I felt sorry because I knew my father who had a tough childhood had to work hard even when his  hair became white and his back ached all the time. Really just thinking about that time hurts me.

           In  fact, one year before I came to the United States  it was the hardest time ever in my life. I was very depressed. Mostly, when I realized that the Arab revolutions or The Arab Spring couldn't be successful. The  Peaceful revolutions were changed to  blood pools by the Arab dictators who didn't care about their people and their countries. They only cared about themselves and their positions .

 

           After moving among companies where my humanity was stolen, working over time for little pay, with people  who didn't believe in each other, screaming all the time where you have to be like a slave to the boss. My mind was very dispersion among my  job , Arab Spring revolutions and getting the visa  .  Many people told me don't go to The USA because life there is difficult and expensive after the economic  crisis.

          My mind was changed when I met someone who was waiting for the green card like me .His conditions were more difficult than mine , but he was focused on going to the  USA. He told me don't believe what people say.  The USA is the best  country in the world . The USA is the future. I believed in him, then I put all my hopes in getting my visa and moving to the USA as soon as possible .