Personal Narrative: The Lost Boys Of Sudan

“How would you guys feel about moving?” Those words both excited and frightened me. They were not surprising to hear, as there had been hints that it might happen for a long time, but I was still shocked. Leaving my home of twelve years, where I had gone through school, made friends, and grown up, was not going to be easy. At the same time, however, it represented new opportunities that I didn’t have in the suburbs of Dallas. I imagine that this was what Deo and the Lost Boys of Sudan felt as they journeyed to their new lives in America, but on a much lesser scale. As difficult as it was to move to rural Northwest Iowa, I cannot imagine the difficulty of immigrating to the United States from the war-torn parts of Africa. At the same time, through reading and watching their stories, I was able to relate somewhat because of my own experiences. I have realized as a result that I should
I can still remember when I told my best friends that I was moving to Iowa; most of them did not believe me at first. The move happened so quickly that I only managed to tell a small portion of the people I knew that I was leaving. What surprised me the most was how easy it was to leave without notice, it is like some of the relationships I made never happened. The Lost Boys and the culture they were a part of should be admired for the commitment these people had to one another. These men formed bonds that survived starvation, war, and abandonment. Even when some of them were given the opportunity to move to America, the support given to those moving as refugees astonished me. I doubt that many Americans, myself included, can say that they formed closer bonds with so many people. The Lost Boys, in some ways, had it better than me, at least in regard to their relationships. Not only were they moving with some of their friends, but they were able to spend time with everyone that mattered to them before they