When I was 15, my parents saved enough money to send their oldest son across the ocean to their place of origin: Macedonia.
I have many memories of that trip, good and bad and horrible. I remember only two horrible memories and lots and lots of the other kinds of memories.
I want to tell whoever is listening about the horrible one that bothers me today.
I was 15 and very naive. In the middle or last half of my trip, I decided to go alone somewhere…Continue