Home has never been a single place for me because I have to moved a lot in my life for a verity of reasons. Although, saying home is now more confusing than ever because now I have the first world privilege of having more than one home. My family, originally from Guatemala, left their only home because of discrimination of being Mayan. At the time the government wanted their homeland for agriculture and this caused civiI war.I was born after the civil war that left many of my people with nothing but the clothes on their backs.So when one is faced with the life poverty many are left with the only choice of immigrating to “better country”. So I left my first home,even though I do not remember, for a new home. I grew up in Oakland,California for most of my child hood but when whenever you arrived my small apparent you could see,smell, and hear Guatemala. So it felt like I never left my home even though I was thousands of miles away. However, now in college when people ask me “are you going home” I have to ask “which one”.The problem arises of where is my home? For now it is my five person person apartment in Santa Cruz but on holidays it is my five person apartment in Oakland. I am glad to go home this weekend to celebrate Mother’s Day, my baby brothers second birthday and see my grandfather who is visiting form Guatemala for the first time. I learned that no matter what you call home for me it is not a place you go for shelter but the memories you create that have a deeper meaning that make you feel at peace, belonging and love. In the end that is all that matters to me and I am very grateful to have this privilege in my life.