The American Dream - Letter Writing

Extract

[...] But now, an idea has come to my mind: we go through a lot and make a lot of physical and psychological efforts, and at the same time, a lot of legal Americans are weakening with their television shows, their food, their political idleness. I know that some day, we will get to power and we will deserve it. And then, things will change. Or am I dreaming too much ? My dear mum and dad, I have slipped in this envelope a few banknotes I could save, which I hope will help you. Love. [...]

[...] We had little light on top of it, so when we finally landed and our container was opened for inspection, we were blinded by the bright daylight. Hopefully, the cops did not see us, and they went no further, maybe because of the smell. They must have listed the container as one not to enter the U.S. territory, to be either sent back or incinerated. When night came, a night without moonlight, we sneaked out and sort of felt our way along. But we still could not leave the guarded port precinct, so we dove in the sea to swim around and reach a deserted area. [...]

[...] We scavenged for food and anything useful in trash cans, especially large collectors in the back alleys of shops. At that moment, we split so as not to draw attention on us. I followed my way through the city, trying to go unnoticed, but not behaving as someone on the run either, or that would have seemed suspicious. Then I got to a Mexican diner, for I knew I could make myself understood there and seek out help from fellowmen. [...]

[...] The manager agreed to hire me without a contract. They process poultry there. The pay is substantial, at least for an immigrant, but the conditions are tough, and there is little safety. The other day, a man got his hand ripped off by a dicing machine. He owns to his smuggler but he cannot work anymore, and since he was an illegal worker and immigrant, he had no health insurance and now faces deportation. I have thought for a while that this nation was built on sweat and blood, and immigrants must go the same way even today. [...]

[...] Enough to buy me a bus ticket to Auntie Luisa's. She gladly welcomed me and since then, I have been living at her place. I have enough to eat, I can wash myself daily, I can sleep in a proper bed . except I cannot risk going outside in a carefree manner. In this poor neighborhood, police rounds are frequent and people often get arrested. Luisa and I have tried to find a way, like some sort of social disguise, wearing sunglasses and walking leisurely, with my hands in my pockets, like a normal citizen. [...]