In the beginning

So for the past year or so I have wanted to write. After my year leaving with Silvio and Erinn (wow that was weird even writing it is weird) I saw how a real author worked and I must say it is very inspiring. Silvio writes in his blog http://silviosirias.com/blog.html every week on Wednesdays. So now I am giving it a try. I will try to write on a regular basis but as in my diary that wont happen. Maybe if Oliver or anyone actually reads this and makes me write more I will. So I know I am cheating but my first blog is going to be my essay for colleges, why? Because it discribes me and my family so i figure it is a good way to start.


Through the years, I have tried to find a family that at least reassembles mine. I have failed miserably. My family is like no other, and because of them I am what I am. We came to live to Panama five years ago. In June, my parents decided, for various reasons, to go back to Colombia. To me, this was a great blow because I definitely did not want to change my school during my senior year, especially for one that was triple the size of mine. So, my parents looked for ways for me to stay in Panama. My teacher, Mrs. Magee, agreed to take me in for a year. This year, Im living in Panama while the rest of my family is in Colombia. This has made me see them in a new light, and I now truly appreciate everything theyve given me.

Pablo is my 12-year old, soccer crazed, early-rising, energetic (maybe too energetic), and sometimes-pesky brother. Hes always doing something. I dont get bored when Im with him. He always makes me laugh, especially during our Tickle-me-Tuesdays, when my brother and I have tickle fights all afternoon. My mom once asked me what our ideal house needed to be in order to accommodate the needs of our family. The first thing that came to my head was a spacious living room where my brother could play soccer and watch TV at the same time. Also, with Pablo I can talk about everything: cars, cartoons, soccer, Formula One Racing, school . . . well, almost everything. I cant talk to him about books because he refuses to read. My goal is to get him to like reading. At least I can dream.

My 14-year old sister, Patricia, Ive been told, looks 16: because shes two inches taller than me, has an amazing figure. and sometimes acts more mature than I. Shes calm and soft-spoken. Shes the real big sisterwithout the privileges of getting to college first. Shes the one that sends Pablo and me to bed when it is getting too late. We are not exactly opposites, but we are quite different. When we were little, I would say that we were like oil and water. But its not quite like that anymore. She is more social, while I am a bookworm. But she loves books almost as much as I do, and I love going out almost as much as she does. Patricia also loves shopping and keeping up with fashions. I would be lying if I told you I wasnt interested in fashions, but I hate shopping. What I admired most about my sister is her determination and strength. Pato, as I call her, is an incredible person with great potential.

My Mom and I have a complicated relationship: we cant live together, but we cant live without each other. When we lived in Panama, my dad would often travel to Colombia. On some of those nights he was gone, my mother and I would talk and laugh about everything, and nothing. Shes the person that pushes me to be my best, and I, in turn, sometimes resent that. But I wouldnt be the person I am now with out her. I like to think of her as my pillar, and perhaps I sound arrogant but I think that she thinks of me as her pillar. My mother was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. This has shown me how important she is in my life, and what a hardworking, brave, and unselfish woman she is.

My dad is, to me, larger than life. If my mom is the one pushing me, my dads the one pulling me. Hes a sociologist, an agriculturist, a triathlon athlete, a carpenter, a canoe-maker, a cayuco paddler, a cartographer, a consultant, a terrific father, and a caring son. I stumble when Im asked what my dad means to me. The greatest thing about him is that he hasnt done it all yet, but he says that one day, when he grows up, hell do itand I believe him. The best part of my fathers plans for when he grows up is that my mom will be right next to him every step of the way. They seldom argue, and if they do, it never lasts long.

The truth is that my family is unique. Living without them has been the hardest thing Ive ever done. I am what I am thanks to them; to each of them. Weve done everything together: paddling in the Panama Canal, cooking, camping, reading, singing, and just enjoying a moment together. My cousin once described us as the family that always does everything together.

For 18 years I have done only a few things that didnt include my family, but living without them is the biggest by far. I am happy that I get to practice the whole not-living-with-my-family routine before college, and in a way, I have my parents to thank for this year of practice I am getting