Dear Diary,

I have been on this ship for three days now. When my journey first began there was nothing but misery. I could only think about Giuseppe and wonder if he was thinking of me too, and I kept having to fight the urge to cry as everything I have ever known has now been left behind. I know that I am doing this to help my family, but I can't help feeling as if I will never see them again. Even now, after the initial shock has worn off, I wonder if I made the right choice to leave Italy.

The conditions here are awful. There are several dormitories—mine is for women traveling alone. The beds have a metal frame, and have three bunks. Hundreds of them are crowded together, so that as many people can fit as possible. I have little privacy, and it is hard for me to keep clean since there are limited toilet facilities. The air is thick and heavy, filled with smoke and the strong odors of spoiled food, seasickness, and unwashed bodies. At home it wasn't very clean either, but here everything is dirty and jammed together, so that I am lucky I am even able to breathe. It is like being in a living hell.

I recently met a girl about my age, maybe a year younger. Her name is Bianca Giannini, and she is also from Naples, although I didn't know her when I was still at home. I don't remember exactly how we met; I think I was sitting on a bottom bunk looking miserable and she just came over to introduce herself.

I guess she figured we could relate, since we are both young, traveling alone on this ship to America, and we both cannot speak English. Regardless of how she first approached me, we were soon talking about our lives in Italy, and discussing what we hope to do in the future once we come in to New York. It was a relief just to get my mind off my situation, and I could forget for a while about the hostile atmosphere I found myself in.

She is actually meeting family in America; she told me that first her father went over, got a job, and earned some money. Then he sent some of the money back to Italy and once enough had accumulated her brother had gone over. Now it was her turn to join is so lucky! I am leaving everything familiar to me and heading towards an uncertain fate, while she can easily leave her old life and enter her already-established future. But I should not feel jealous. I'm grateful she approached me in the first place. It made me realize how much I need someone to talk to on this journey, someone to cheer me up and reassure me that I have a bright and promising future ahead of me.

Her family encountered similar struggles to those of my own family, it turns out. It feels nice to have someone that I can pour all my feelings out to, knowing she feels sort of the same way. Back in Italy I had Giuseppe, but there are some aspects of my life that I did not discuss even with him. I can sense the beginning of a strong friendship with her. Although we have not known each other for long, all there is for us to do in this wretched ship is talk for hours until it's time to sleep. At least I don't dwell as long on the people I have left behind.

I must stop writing—the food is being served, in strange buckets with four or five compartments. They put the food in the compartments, and then put a lid on it. It is not much, but then again if I am going tosurvive this trip it would be wise to eat it.

Dear Diary,

I am in America! Several times when I was on the ship I wondered if I would ever see land again, if I would live until the end of my journey. Right now, I am overwhelmed with joy yet I still feel weak and half-starved. But let me go back and explain.

We received news that we had reached New York Harbor, but we still had to wait another hour or so before we were hurriedly directed onto ferries. The ferry took us across the harbor and to an island ("Ellis Island," Bianca called it). We were greeted by American officials who pinned numbered tags to our clothes, and gave commands that I could not understand. We lined up under a canopy, waiting to get into a huge brick building. I stayed by Bianca's side—we had become good friends by then.

Once we got inside the building and up to the second floor, we entered an enormous room. It was noisy and crowded, with people shouting out in all different , it was the largest room I had ever seen in my life! We went from doctor to doctor, each one checking us for a different disease. Each little inspection was short, lasting just a few seconds, but then we went on to the next doctor, and the next, and the next. I kept on wanting to sneeze, but I was terrified that the doctors would take it as a sign of illness and not let me into America. I saw how every once in a while the medical inspector would pull an immigrant aside, write a mysterious sign or X on their coat in blue chalk, and then lead them to a different line away from the other immigrants. I figured they were going to be sent back—I had heard rumors of people the inspectors found fault with who were sent back to their native countries regardless of how desperate their situation was. The last thing I wanted was to go back to Italy in defeat, so I held back my sneeze, and hastily wiped my eyes when they started to water.

Once both Bianca and I had passed the medical tests, we were waved towards the main part of the room. This part was divided in what seemed to be an endless maze of open passageways with metal railings. Here we waited, and waited some more, waiting for our names to be called for yet another inspection. I was afraid that with all the noise around me I would miss my name, and that I would be stuck in that room forever. I could picture in my head everyone leaving while I was left there all by myself. Luckily for me, when my name was finally called I did not miss it. I went over to the legal inspector, who was dressed in a heavy jacket. He asked me several questions, which the interpreter standing beside him was quick to translate. It was all things like my age, and whether I was married, what my job was, and what my destination was. He also asked me if I had twenty dollars in my pocket. I lied and said that I did. I was scared that he would ask me to show him the money and figure out that I didn't actually have it, but luckily for me he just assumed that I was telling the truth.

Once I was finished I looked around to see what had happened to Bianca. At first I panicked, since I had lost track of her after the medical inspection, but then I saw her waving to me from another part of the room and we found each other again. We were preparing to leave when we were yelled at by another official. An interpreter explained that since we did not have an escort, for our safety to be assured a telegram or letter needed to arrive from a waiting relative in the city before we could leave the immigration station.

I was at a loss for what to do, until Bianca noticed the engagement ring on my finger. "That's it!" she cried excitedly. "I know what we can do!" She waited for a few minutes, calling out in Italian to various men as they left to see which ones came from Italy. None of them responded.

Then a young man that we had not noticed greeted us.

"Look, we need your help," Bianca said hurriedly, in a hushed voice. "They won't let us out of here unless we have an escort or a letter from relatives in the city saying that they are waiting for us in New York. So I was thinking…" here she looked a bit nervous, "that maybe you could pretend to be, um, uh, well, you could pretend that, uh…" she trailed off, suddenly becoming embarrassed.

Understanding what she was leading to, I took over. "She wants you to pretend to be married to me." I saw his eyebrows go up in suspicion, and I suddenly felt incredibly stupid and embarassed for having spoken up.

"What?"

"She has an engagement ring," Bianca cut in. "But it looks enough like a wedding ring that I think we might be able to make this work. If you will just pretend to be her husband, I'll pretend to be her cousin or something. That's the only way I can think of for us to get out. My family said nothing to me about sending a letter so that I would be admitted to America. They are out there waiting for me right now, and my friend needs to get out too, so will you please help us so that we can get out of this Goddamned place?!" I couldn't help noticing the slight exasperation and anger in her voice, and I think that the stranger, whoever he was, also noticed. At least, he noticed that she was quite desperate.

"Sure, I guess I'll help," he said, giving us a sympathetic smile. "Come on then, let's get it over with." He linked arms with me and Bianca followed us. The official gave us a strange look, as if he somehow recognized us but could not remember who we were. Nonetheless, we emerged from that building at last. We both thanked him, and then I took another ferry with Bianca to get to New York.

"Phew!" she exclaimed. "Thank goodness that worked. Hey, so who's the lucky guy you're engaged to anyway?" she asked with interest.

I felt a little awkward, after just having pretended to be married to some other person, but I began to tell her about Giuseppe as the boat began moving through the water.

Looking up towards the shore, I caught my breath in amazement. For the first time in my life I saw the gleaming skyline of the city, with tall buildings going farther into the air than I ever could have imagined. It was almost too beautiful for me to believe that it was real. It gave me renewed strength, which I knew I will need as I try to build my life here.

We finally reached the shore, and I got off the ferry. Bianca and I began to move through the crowd. She was looking for her family, and I just followed along, not knowing what to do. I was relieved that I had made it to the city at last, but I felt suddenly at a loss for what my next action should be. Where did I go to find a job? How would I find a house? And how would I do anything without knowing a word of English? I felt helpless, so I just followed Bianca.

"Lorenzo!" I heard her shout. I watched her rush towards a tall young man with messy brown hair, probably around twenty-one years old, to hug him. I assumed he was her brother. Standing next to the young man was an older man, which I took to be her father. She greeted greeted him with the characteristic European kiss on both cheeks.

She turned and beckoned to me. "Cristina," she said, "This is my brother, Lorenzo, and my father."

"Hi," I said, and gave them a nervous smile. Then I faced Bianca. "It was great to get to know you.I guess we go our separate ways now." My own words sounded stupid and fake to me, as if I didn't like her and wanted to get away from her, but I didn't know how else to say good-bye. I felt lonely and missed my own family when I saw her with hers, so I figured I might as well leave all of them before I started feeling sorry for myself, and go start living my new life.

She gave me a confused look. "But where are you going to go?"

She had voiced the one question that I could not answer. Where was I going to go? I had no idea. "I'm not sure yet," I said, blushing slightly in embarrassment.

She looked at me steadily for a moment, and then said, "Well, why don't you stay with us?" She saw my hesitation and then continued, "You don't have to, of course, but I think maybe you should. You'd have a place to stay while you are still getting used to the city." She looked at her father. "Would that be fine with you?" she asked him.

"Sure," he said, somewhat gruffly.

I didn't know what to say. I never liked to accept favors from people, because then I never knew how to repay them. I didn't want to feel as if I needed help. But I realized that I did need help, and so I decided to ignore my personal pride and accept the help Bianca was offering to me. Besides, I reasoned, after I got used to being in New York I could always rent my own place. I just needed some time to get adjusted. "Are you sure it won't bother you?" I asked, directing my question towards her father.

But it was Bianca's brother that spoke up, surprisingly. "I think it's fine if you stay with us. We don't have much, but it's enough. If there's nowhere else you have to go I think it's a good idea." The father nodded in approval.

"Well then, I think I will," I said, smiling gratefully at them. Inside, I was so filled with happiness and relief that I had somewhere to go that I thought I would burst from all the we have exchanged our lires for dollars, and bought some food. We are about to go to Bianca's family's apartment. Bianca has proved to be a great friend. I only hope that someday I will be able to do her a favor in return.

A/N: I hope you liked this chap, please continue to review and give me your opinions on what you think of it! By the way, I think I made this sort of confusing, but the conversations between Cristina and anyone else are all in Italian right now, and neither she nor Bianca can speak any English which is why they don't understand the American will learn English later, but they'll still talk in italian since it's their native language.

To everyone that reveiwed, thank you so much! You reviews mean so much to me! Please keep telling me what you think of the story, and this chapter. I will try and update soon.