Personal Narrative: A Trip To Senegal

A Trip to the Motherland It was back in December of 2013 during fifth grade. My dad had set up a trip to go to Senegal. Senegal, Africa; which is on the western side and also where he was born. We were going to visit family members on my dad’s side of the family and it would be my first time I met them in person. It was also going to be my first time leaving the United States. I was very excited and also very curious to know if Senegal, and really Africa in general, would be the same as shown on television. Usually, on television, Africa is portrayed as a poor place with trash, polluted waters, and poor homeless sick people everywhere. Honestly, I wasn’t convinced that image was true. It just didn’t seem possible for a country to be structured that way, because I have seen photographs of cities that looked well developed. I was looking forward to visiting the
Throughout that day, I was just thinking about how in less than fifteen hours I would have been over six miles high, traveling six hundred miles per hour. Then it was the big day. I said goodbye to all of my family members and my father and I headed off to the airport. We arrived, drop off our baggage and went to check in. When my dad and I finished that process, we sat down to take a break. For some reason, I was thinking a series of “what if” questions regarding attackers on the plane, just because of previous terrorist attacks. I knew I was most likely safe, although I just wondered. Our flight number was called and I walked on the plane. Right before I walked in, I did my flying routine of giving the plane a slap. I do this for good luck. Shortly after we got seated, the engines started winding up and I began thinking again. Next thing I knew, the plane started rolling. Louder and louder the engines were roaring. The take off was my favorite part of the plane ride. We were moving like a roller coaster and shooting off the runway. Faster and faster we rose into the