When Isabelle Cayenne Bay was in her early 20s, she left home.

Home was in Angola, a country at the time racked by violence from years of civil war.

And so, she and her family fled south to Namibia.

They made it to a refugee camp where they lived for the next 17 years, surviving off rations

and waiting for the chance to be resettled somewhere else in the world, somewhere where

they could start a new life.

You don't know what tomorrow will bring.

You don't know when you are going to leave the camp.

And if you have the chance, then it's like winning a lottery.

And after years of waiting, their number finally came up.

An application for resettlement was accepted.

And they found out they'd be resettled in a place called Road Island.

All they knew about the U.S. was what they'd seen in the movies.

And Isabelle said she imagined this just incredible place.

You arrive, you find a machine waiting for your cars to be driven, a pool.

And then you have a chauffeur.

That's what we all think.

But when Isabelle and her family finally landed at a U.S. airport in the middle of

January, the reality was less glamorous.

It was shockingly cold outside.

The streets were not figuratively paid with gold.

But instead, it was covered in this powdery white stuff.

...