Dear Feliciano Vargas,

I know I haven't talked to you in forever, so I might as well start from the beginning, the reason for my absence. You remember from the last time I visited you last year over in North Italy (at least I hope you do), that I was acting different than usual; I wasn't irritable and ill-tempered like I usually am. That was because of some news I had received. At that time was when I heard about plans on moving to the US. That was why I was so quiet, keeping to myself. I was just in shock. I knew the new place was going to be nothing like life was in Southern Italy.

Now, at the moment of when I am writing this, I am on my way to America. I am on a boat, in the middle of the ocean, heading Ellis Island, an immigration center famous for being both the "Isle of Hope" and the "Isle of Tears". Since I am a third class citizen, I am in the third class storage, where it is stuffy and I don't wish to be here anymore. Every inhumane noise and movement sends me on edge, more than I already am. It's not like I wanted to be here in the first place. All this must be a shock to you, my closest relative and my dear friend, but there is a reason. There is always a reason for everything.

The simple explanation is cause of family problems. There was just too much going on and we couldn't handle it all; we needed a new life. Most other Italians, in case you haven't heard, only come to America temporarily, the goal to raise more money for their relatives back home in mind. After a couple or so years, they come back home to stay. My family isn't like that, there is no other option. We had to take this drastic measure on behalf of everyone's else's sake along with our own. Of course I'm not here alone, as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo (stepfather) is here with me. Even though he tries to be caring to me and to make me feel at home, I know what he is trying to do. Papi just doesn't want me to throw a fit and make a scene. He doesn't see me as the 12 year old I really am, he sees me as a child, a good for nothing 5 year old.

We have arrived, strenuous days after my previous documentaries. Now all we have to do is wait, and wait, as that is all we were doing. Wish me luck.

Papi and I are now in the Registry room (or at least that is what the sign said), where all the medical inspection takes place. You probably wouldn't believe it, but this room is huge; not elephant huge, but mansion huge. There are also so many people, and the noise level is on maximum. I can even hear a multitude of other foreign languages. We even had to drop off our belongings in the previous room, but I managed to sneak with me this pen and paper. There was also this strange man yelling at us in a different language. Well, it wasn't all that different, as I have started to learn it over the past year or so. English isn't my strong suit however; I am better fit for Italian. It has come in handy though, as Papi only knows Italian and has come to me multiple times for translations. We had to split, me and him; they said men in one lane and women and children in the other lane. If only I was a little older, I would be able to stay with Papi. Even though I wouldn't admit it, I feel lonely without him. I need him to survive this journey. Anyways, I have to go. I'm up next.

I'm scared. I passed my medical exam, but I have no idea where Papi has gone. I searched recklessly, everywhere for him, but he was out of sight. I tried to stay behind, to look more in depth, but the crowd pushed me forwards. I have no idea where I'm at or where I'm going. It's not like I knew before, it's just more frightening without him. I suddenly feel all alone.

I somehow ended up in this open room. There are multiple offices for different uses, such as for the exchange of money or for ticketing. Before this was some staircases, but I hope they weren't of too much importance. I was too distracted to pay them much mind. My hands are shaking and I'm starting to tear up. I hope he'll be okay.

It was an estimated ten minutes until I saw him. I gasped when I saw a sliver of him and pushed through the crowd towards him. I was filled with joy, so relieved. He told me he got held back in the medical inspections for his odd breathing behaviors. He was just overwhelmed, nothing serious, they told him.

It is finally over, we have finally made it. I am literally crying right now. Even with the favoring statistics of this place, I was still scared out of my mind. Finally, after the many hours, the hours that flew by yet seemed to stretch out for eternity at the same time. You cannot comprehend how overjoyed I am. I just hope you can visit me sometime soon, when I have finally settled in. I already miss you.

Ciao,

Lovino Vargas