It's about what do i feel about my hometown.

Essay by yayaislandUniversity, Bachelor'sA-, December 2003

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My hometown

Uncle Sam takes over the luggage from Dad's hands. When we all get into the car, he starts the engine. Xiang Tan is a small city with no airports. We have to land on another city and then drive two hours to get back home.

Home, whose home are we going to stay at this time? Auntie Mary's, Uncle Luke's or Grandpa's? All the relatives have invited us. It seems impolite to reject their courtesy.

There we go. "Welcome to Chairman Mao's Hometown!" huge characters appear on both sides of the high way, which implies twenty minutes drive to home. Mom starts to dial grandpa's telephone number. And I feel like a visitor to somebody else's hometown again. After all, yelling "Dad, we are back!" is a little different from yelling "Grandpa, we are back!"

In the following days, I become something of my parents' tail. They have plenty of friends to visit, places to have fun, and dinners to eat.

What about me? I have the freedom to choose which one to follow. The good thing is mom doesn't force me to have egg and milk for breakfast there. so I can eat rice noodles by the street, like most of local people do every morning. And there is a kind of fried pancake which impresses me a lot with its good smell and taste.

It always confuses me that under such a high unemployment rate, many people there, no matter rich or poor, do some gambling for entertainment every day. the economy is getting worse every year, and every time when we go back, we see a different mayor. Though we are not rich, my parents give money to every family we visit. I believe they also worry about how the people get by and...