Maria: When the time came to leave, my family gathered around me and told me how much they would miss me. My Mother wept and clung on to my youngest sister. It was as if she was afraid that she would run after me and never return home. My oldest brother, Paolo, said he was going to carry my bag into town for me, but he's only eight and my bag seemed bigger than him. Luisa, my sister, is a year younger than me. We do nothing but fight and argue. She stood silently as each of my family gave me a kiss. Then she said "Take care Maria, wear this and pray for us." and she pressed this crucifix into my hand. A lump came up in my throat and I began to cry. "Pray for me too Little Sister" I replied. My Father put a strong arm around me and said that I was going to have to be braver than this or I would never make it past the shop in the village.

I did make it past the shop to the point at which Ricardo had arranged for me to be picked up. Most of the family stayed at home. I walked with my Father and little Paolo. Father said he wanted the company to walk home. Paolo could not manage my case. I carried my case and Father carried Paolo on his back.

When we arrived at the stop, Father handed me a small photo in a frame. It was of the family. It was taken two years earlier, and so my youngest brothers were not on it. It was Father's treasured possession. Photographs are very rare in our village, you only have a photograph taken on very special occasions, its so expensive. To give up this precious gift must have been hard for him. He said he wanted me to remember how they all look. I told him I would buy him a camera and one hundred films with the money I would earn. I would send him a photograph of me abroad to boast to our neighbours.

The truck arrived and I began to cry, Paolo began to cry too. Father seemed strangely quiet. He said nothing. He put his arms around me, and held me tight for a very long time. He looked into my eyes and said in a strange voice "You don't have to go! I love you so very much!" And I saw a tear run from his eye, down his weather-beaten face. A single, solitary tear, from a man whose eyes have been dry since childhood. He did not even cry when we had to bury Grandmother, two years ago.

I bit my lip and jumped into the truck. My case was placed on the back of the truck but I held tight to the two things now most treasured in my life. The photograph and the crucifix. I sat in silence with tears staining my face, digging furrows through the dust. The driver tried to talk to me. He smiled. He told jokes. He told me that he'd done this a thousand times before for Ricardo, and that he'd also seen the happy, smiling faces of girls that returned home after living abroad.

As we arrived at the port where I had to catch my ship, he pulled the van up to the side of the road and handed me a package of documents. They were my papers. I was still Maria Corazon, daughter of Michael Corazon, but I was 27 years old! My Father would only have been 9 when I was born! I told the driver that I must turn back. I was afraid, nobody would believe I was 27. But he said that most girls are too young to leave the country. Nobody cares if the paperwork looks okay. I boarded the ship and passed the journey looking at the sea. It was all so big, where was the land? There were others on the ship that had been sent by Ricardo. Many of them seemed as young as me, some looked even younger. We were met when the ship came into port and put on buses, hot, crowded, noisy buses. Eventually, after many hours of discomfort, but without complaint, I arrived at the city where I would be working.

I was met by my new employers their family name was Isman. He worked for an oil company and she needed help to look after their eighteen month old baby, Farhiyo. They told me of my duties as we drove to their home in their car! I would cook, and clean and do some shopping. I would attend to Farhiyo and help Mrs. Isman around the house.

I could not believe the wonderful city in which I would now live. It was so clean, and there were so many buildings, and wires from buildings across streets and into the desert. Miles and miles of wires. And people too. It was a completely new world to me. A world of opportunities, a world which would help me to ensure my family could be proud of me.