Narrative Essay

Patricia D. Allen
English 82A
Dr. Sylvia Shoemaker
September 29, 2007
Narrative Essay

Get Over It!

It was early one bright spring morning; the sun had just lifted his head. After what seemed like an eternity in the air, my plane had finally landed. What a relief that was. Never before had I flown in the air and the air condition was not working. The air was thick and musty. The only way to survive the 13 hour flight was to just go to sleep, and that’s what I did.

I had finally arrived. The drive to my destination was different than what I was accustomed to. The first thing I noticed was that the steering wheel was on the right side, not the left. The cars seemed a lot smaller and everyone seemed to be driving on the wrong side of the road. I was definitely confused. However, I sat quietly and just waited for my new adventure. I had finally arrived and the fear, excitement and nervousness of being in a foreign country really didn’t matter because I had reached the point of no return. I was riding through the streets of Okinawa Japan, only a few months after receiving my first set of military orders.

The first thing I noticed as we slowly approached the military gates was the Marine. The soldier stood at full attention, the creases in his shirt were much defined and the shine on his shoes seemed to be glistening brightly against the early morning sunlight. He was very poised and intimidating. The soldier sharply waved us through the gates and we slowly drove forward to the first set of barracks.

As I walked through the doors, my heart pounded heavily against my chest. I swear I could hear every beat and I knew it was going to pop right out of my white dress uniform and stain the freshly polished floor. Although my bag was light, each step I took was a heavy one. I checked in to the front desk, just as you would any other hotel. This place was definitely no Ritz Carlton, in fact it was far from that.

I was told to go to the second floor, room 207. I took the stairs; after all there was no elevator. Halfway down the hall I remember approaching the worst smell coming from the doors of what appeared to be a community bathroom. I was later told that I arrived on the perfect day, water rationing day. On this day there was no water being used on base and the only way to flush the toilets was to stick the scooper in the large trashcans that were filled with water collected the previous day and flush with the scooped out water. Many people didn’t feel as though they should do the extra work, so the bathrooms had an awful aroma which lingered down the halls. I quickly learned to spend every other day, water rationing day, off base where there was no rationing.

Upon approaching room 207, I stuck the key in the door, stepped into the room and all of a sudden my eyes became flushed and tears came storming down my face. What have I done? Did I really sign up for this? How will I survive this nightmare? The ceiling was high; it seemed to be at least 12 feet tall. The walls were a puke, army and baby doo doo color green. The bed was the worst. There were no fancy headboard, just a mattress being held up by what looked like iron pipes. It was the ugliest room I had ever seen in my life. I dropped my bags and sat on the floor and just cried for what seemed like hours.

Once I finally awaken from my crying spell, the next day, the first thing I did was go shopping. I painted my room bright yellow, brought myself the most beautiful comforter I had ever seen, hung up some gorgeous Japanese umbrellas and totally turned my room into a beautiful haven.

The next eighteen months turned out to be very exciting. I met many new wonderful friends from many different places. We became as close as brothers and sisters. The memories I will cherish a lifetime. The locals, Okinawans, were very kind and hospitable and really showed their appreciation towards the U.S. military. The food was great, I quickly gained 20 pounds my first month there.

The experience of living overseas and surviving in another country matured me very fast. After the tears and reality sat in, my survival skills kicked in and forced me to adapt to a new way of life. Change can sometimes be difficult. It’s important to just go with the flow and not rock the boat. It will make life a lot easier. Martin Luther King, Jr once said, “The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.