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When I moved to US in Jr. High School, everything was so different: the language, the people, the culture and the food.  When I was in the school, most of time I was quiet, because I didn’t understand much English. When each class was over, everyone would rush out of the classroom to go to their next class.  At the end of day, everyone would again rush out of the school building to get on their school bus to go home.  When I got home from the school, I stayed in my bedroom most of time.  I lived in the suburb area of Pittsburgh; you couldn’t go anywhere without driving.  I didn’t have a driver’s license because I wasn’t sixteen yet.  One time my mom and I tried to walk to a nearby Seven-Eleven; it took us two and half hours to get there and come back home.  So, many months went by, my English did not improve, and I didn’t make any new friends.  My uncle decided to put me in his Baskin Robins Ice Cream store to work on the weekends.  He said that by waiting on the customers, I would be forced to talk to people in English and would therefore pick up English faster.  Soon I met my first American friend Maribeth Mulkerrin; the one who gave me the connection to the American culture and showed me all the fun she knew.  Our friendship proved that two persons from two different countries, with completely different cultural back grounds, could become best friends.  

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