The Change by Graeme Greenwood

The Change

It all started when my father lost his job. Ever since I can remember my father worked at a local vineyard only a few blocks from our old home. The owner, his childhood friend, had some financial issues due to the fact that no one was buying his wine. My Father was convinced the wine was magnificent and that eventually everyone would know the name Esposito. He was wrong and the vineyard closed. I didn't say much when it happened but inside I knew this was bad news. Work is hard to come by in our town, Parma. After a few weeks of my father struggling to find a job, my mother told us we were moving. I'm used to moving because I've lived all around Italy. Both my parents were born there and so was I. Only a few short days later we were on a boat with all our belongings and traveling to a place that my parents called, “The Americas.”

We arrived in what felt like weeks. We only made a few stops and had little time to be off the boat which felt rushed and I spent exploring the unknown places I was in. I had never been anywhere outside of Italy so seeing new lands opened my eyes. I had a realization that maybe going to “The Americas” might not be so bad and that I could see more places like the ones I got a chance to explore.

Stepping off the boat the first thing I noticed was the buildings. They were the tallest things I had ever seen. All the floors and floors of windows seemed surreal. It was morning time when we got there and I was exhausted. I hated sleeping on the boat, the way the waves hit the side of the boat, it made me sick. We walked some way off the dock and found are way to a bunch of busy streets. I asked my dad where we were. He said “We're in the great city of San Francisco my boy!” My dad waved at a yellow car on the road and it pulled over near the side walk and we got in. It drove us to a building my dad called a hotel. We put our bags in the room and I immediately fell asleep.

My name is Angelo Giordano. The year is 1984 and I just turned 12 years old. I've been living here in San Francisco for three years now. My experience so far here has been very different from what i've grown up with. Instead of a big property with a field in the back where we could grow crops I now live on the 15^th floor of an apartment building. Its very small but i've grown used to it. My dad got a job at the local baseball stadium. He goes around the stands and sells hot dogs and cold drinks to the fans. He says its hard work but gets to watch the games and he makes enough so we can live comfortably. He also gets extra tickets every so often and I get to watch the games. The San Francisco Giants are the team that plays. It's amazing seeing the players throw the ball so fast and hit the ball so hard.

I go to school downtown from where our apartment is. I have to take the trolly car which is like a train but is held on by wires on the top. Its fun speeding down the busy streets seeing all the people who live in the city. I like to try to figure out peoples lives by the things they are doing. I saw a man in a nice suit observing a table at a restaurant. He was observing them very thoroughly and was writing down notes. I think he works for the newspaper and was getting down information for a story he was doing. Or maybe he works for an advertising agency and was trying to figure out how he could advertise a brand of cigarettes they were smoking. I'll never know for sure but thats the fun in it.