I went Chong Qing in July 22.It is a city which was built near mountains. So people call it Mountain City\. In Chong Qing,I went to the Red Stone Center, to see the places which the prisoners lived in the past. It is a terrible and awful trip. There are a lot of dogs, and soldiers with guns near the prisons. And most of the prisons are good, they didn't want to tell the bad people where the other people were. They lived in very small houses. No good food to eat, no good water to drink.They had only twenty minutes to stay out side per day but they still said nothing.
I think they are the heros in that century. I will follow their spirit.
下面的长了点。。也难了点。。
That was the first time for me to come to America. The trip was much more exciting than I had expected. As planned, I got my plane ticket and started my journey. Everything went smoothly at first. I departed from my home city Qingdao and changed a larger plane in Seoul, South Korea. The second day the plane arrived in Chicago on time and I was in high spirits for I almost got to my destination—SMSU (Southwest Missouri State University) in Springfield. Just at that time something unexpected happened. When I went through the customs, the immigration officer asked me about the 9-year-old boy who travelled with me all the way from China. As a matter of fact, I didn't really know the boy before. Before I left China, his grandparents heard that I was coming to Springfield through Chicago, so they asked me to take this boy to his parents who work in Chicago. The boy had all the necessary documents, including his passport, American visa, etc. Without any hesitation, I aGREed to take care of the boy on my way to Chicago. I explained to the officer, but he insisted that I should show the boy's parents?letter inviting the boy to America, which we didn't bring with us. The officer asked us to stay aside and after a while, another officer came and brought us to a special room and ordered us to be quiet. When I looked around, I found another man there, whose ankle was fastened with fetters to a bench leg. It was obvious that I had lost my freedom. They probably thought I was a smuggler who smuggle children to America.
The plane for Springfield was leaving soon. I tried to explain, but they refused to listen. They just asked us to sit still. After about 30 minutes, one officer came to ask me about the boy's parents?telephone number and I told him they were waiting outside the Customs Office and told him their names. The officer said he would find them. After another 20 minutes, he came back and returned my passport and allowed me to go, but he did not bring the boy's parents in. His parents were not allowed into the Customs Office, so the boy had to wait. Just imagine, how frightening for a boy who was only 9 years old, speaking no English and was told to stay there waiting! So I said: "No, I won't go unless the boy goes with me or you let his parents come to fetch him." On hearing this, the officer asked me to wait and after 10 minutes, he came out and gave us the boy's passport and allowed us to leave. I looked at my watch. I had 8 minutes left to get onto my plane. We hurried to look for our luggage. Just as the old saying goes, "When it rains, it pours."One of my luggage bags in which I put all my daily neccessities was missing. I looked everywhere but failed to find it. An officer there told me to go and collect it in Springfield. I had to take the boy to his parents. There were so many people waiting outside. I could not find his parents. I had never seen them before. The boy was so young that I dared not let him go alone to look for his parents for fear he might get lost. Finally I had to call out his father's name at the top of my voice, and getting a few stares. They probally thought I was mad. Luckily he heard me and my mission of taking the boy to his parents was fulfilled. But there was only about 2 minutes before the plane took off. So we (his father and I) hurried to the terminal, only to be told the plane had left exactly 2 minutes before. The officer at the terminal suggested us to take the next day's plane for it was already 9 pm. I was really exhausted. The only thing I could do then was to find the nearest hotel, "Hilton Hotel"to stay for the night.
I think they are the heros in that century. I will follow their spirit.
下面的长了点。。也难了点。。
That was the first time for me to come to America. The trip was much more exciting than I had expected. As planned, I got my plane ticket and started my journey. Everything went smoothly at first. I departed from my home city Qingdao and changed a larger plane in Seoul, South Korea. The second day the plane arrived in Chicago on time and I was in high spirits for I almost got to my destination—SMSU (Southwest Missouri State University) in Springfield. Just at that time something unexpected happened. When I went through the customs, the immigration officer asked me about the 9-year-old boy who travelled with me all the way from China. As a matter of fact, I didn't really know the boy before. Before I left China, his grandparents heard that I was coming to Springfield through Chicago, so they asked me to take this boy to his parents who work in Chicago. The boy had all the necessary documents, including his passport, American visa, etc. Without any hesitation, I aGREed to take care of the boy on my way to Chicago. I explained to the officer, but he insisted that I should show the boy's parents?letter inviting the boy to America, which we didn't bring with us. The officer asked us to stay aside and after a while, another officer came and brought us to a special room and ordered us to be quiet. When I looked around, I found another man there, whose ankle was fastened with fetters to a bench leg. It was obvious that I had lost my freedom. They probably thought I was a smuggler who smuggle children to America.
The plane for Springfield was leaving soon. I tried to explain, but they refused to listen. They just asked us to sit still. After about 30 minutes, one officer came to ask me about the boy's parents?telephone number and I told him they were waiting outside the Customs Office and told him their names. The officer said he would find them. After another 20 minutes, he came back and returned my passport and allowed me to go, but he did not bring the boy's parents in. His parents were not allowed into the Customs Office, so the boy had to wait. Just imagine, how frightening for a boy who was only 9 years old, speaking no English and was told to stay there waiting! So I said: "No, I won't go unless the boy goes with me or you let his parents come to fetch him." On hearing this, the officer asked me to wait and after 10 minutes, he came out and gave us the boy's passport and allowed us to leave. I looked at my watch. I had 8 minutes left to get onto my plane. We hurried to look for our luggage. Just as the old saying goes, "When it rains, it pours."One of my luggage bags in which I put all my daily neccessities was missing. I looked everywhere but failed to find it. An officer there told me to go and collect it in Springfield. I had to take the boy to his parents. There were so many people waiting outside. I could not find his parents. I had never seen them before. The boy was so young that I dared not let him go alone to look for his parents for fear he might get lost. Finally I had to call out his father's name at the top of my voice, and getting a few stares. They probally thought I was mad. Luckily he heard me and my mission of taking the boy to his parents was fulfilled. But there was only about 2 minutes before the plane took off. So we (his father and I) hurried to the terminal, only to be told the plane had left exactly 2 minutes before. The officer at the terminal suggested us to take the next day's plane for it was already 9 pm. I was really exhausted. The only thing I could do then was to find the nearest hotel, "Hilton Hotel"to stay for the night.
