I remember when I first arrived in the United States. Even before the plane landed, the little windows in the airplane revealed snow and ice-covered houses and buildings. As I walked off the plane, cold air crept though the corrugated ramp that led to the airport terminal. Some people inside the airport were wearing big coats and hats, which I had seen on television, but never up close. I felt a little dizzy and needed to sit down, and then my cell phone rang. It was my Aunt Sophia. She was waiting for me outside in the passenger pick-up area, so I walked quickly to the exit, forgetting all about my luggage. When the sliding glass door opened to the outside, there was my aunt–a woman I hadn’t seen in over ten years–wearing a parka and waving her arms frantically in my direction.
