September: First week and first day of school
I had been in Canada for almost a week now. Not much had happened since my arrival. I was still trying to get used to the 3 dogs (at home I had one cat so this was quite a change for me) and also another exchange student had arrived 2 days after me. He was only 12 and was supposed to stay with me and my hostfamily for 3 months. Young and sweet as he was, it wasn’t really hard to get along with him. Since school wouldn’t start until September 8th, we both had some time to explore the neighborhood together. There was an elementary school with a playground right next to the house. Also some tennis courts and a few baseball fields (I am a big baseball fan, so this was definitely a bonus for me!). Otherwise there wasn’t much around. The mall and the shopping area were about 25 min away (if I walked) and my school about an hour foot walk away (luckily I wouldn’t have to walk to school every day, a bus would pick me up at the elementary school with a few other high school kids at 8:40; this was a lot later than I was used to, because in my homecountry school starts at 8:00 sharp).
On September 8th, I was so nervous I could barely get down my cereals. It was the first day of school. Would it be like glee, high school musical or any other high school related movie where everyone was put in a kind of drawer, based on their looks and what they wore or what sports teams and clubs they joined? For example the cheerleader cliché: Cheerleaders were the most popular and the most beautiful kids in the whole school. Everyone wanted to be friends with them, but they were like an elite club, and only the “cool” people were allowed to sit with them at lunch or hang out with them. I had no idea if it would be like this that was probably the reason why I was so scared. Was anyone going to make fun of me because of my accent or my looks? My host mum tried to calm me down. She knew almost the whole school’s staff because she helped with the musical’s costume every year and reassured me that they were all really nice. Well that certainly wouldn’t help me if the other kids were not, but I couldn’t have changed it anyway.
Since it was the first day of school, my host mum drove me so that I didn’t have to take the bus. She even came with me in to the office, where I was handed my schedule for the first semester (Homeroom, English, Math, Music, Science and Social studies). Then the guidance counselor gave me a quick tour of the school: it was huge (at least for me it seemed like small castle). The school consisted of 3 buildings (which were connected through skywalks and tunnels), a gym, a swimming pool, a football field and workshop for the woodworking courses. How was I supposed to find my way around in this place!? After the tour, the guidance counselor brought me to my second period class (I had missed homeroom – which counted as period 1 – because of the tour, so now I had English. It didn’t really help my fear; English was the one class I was most afraid of: writing stories or poems, or reading Shakespeare in a completely different language! I was above average in English in my school back home, but that didn’t mean anything here! But I had no need to be worried: When I told the teacher that I was from a foreign country she was really understanding and told me to ask her anytime I needed help. The classes afterwards were the same: The teachers were all really understanding and offered me help if I needed it. So at 4:30 when school was over, I was relieved and happy: I had survived the first day of school! I hadn’t made any new friends yet; it was kind of difficult to get to know new people better, because I had different people in every single one of my classes, but I didn’t mind. The first day of school was over, that was all that counted for me.
September: My first day in a new country
It was Sept 1st, 2012. I was at the airport saying goodbye to my family, because it was the day I would start the adventure I had been waiting for over a year: I would leave my home country, my family and my friends behind for 10 months to live in Canada with a host family. I had a mix of emotion inside of me. I was scared and sad to leave my leave as I knew it behind, but I was also really excited to see how the year would turn out. I had always wanted to travel around and now I finally had the chance to do it. So I just said to myself: “You can do it!”, said goodbye to my family and went through the check-in. After the 10-hour flight I had finally arrived in Canada. I was really nervous because I was about to meet my new family. It turned out that I shouldn’t have worried. They war super nice. For the next 10 months I would live with them: I would have an older brother, an older sister and three dogs, which were just adorable. After another 2 hour drive, we finally arrived at my new home. My host mum showed me my room and I immediately started unpacking because I wanted to feel at home as fast as possible (and seeing how much effort my host family had put into it, it wouldn’t take very long). After I unpacked my stuff, I went downstairs to sit with my host family. I have to admit, it was awkward at first, but then they started asking me questions about home, my real family and my friends. They also showed me pictures of their family and told me to make myself at home, because I was part of their family now. I wasn’t so nervous anymore; these people were just so friendly and kind. When my older host brother got from work we had supper together. It was a typical Canadian food: Poutine. After supper, I was so tired (there is 5 hour time shift between Canada and my home country, so for me it felt like it was already 3am in the morning), so I said goodnight and went to bed. The first day of adventure was over.
Why I wanted to start blogging
There are quite a few reasons why I wanted to start a blog. It’s not about Internet fame or because I have a really interesting life (it is kind of boring actually, just the usual teeny life with annoying parents, new experiences and amazing friendships). Being a teenager can be hard, but it also has its perks. So here’s a list of reasons that inspired me to start blogging:
- It might help other people
- It can be entertaining
- It gives me a voice. If I have thoughts on a certain topic or situation, I now have a chance to tell people how I think/feel about it
- It can improve my writing: I always love to write, but I was never really good at it. But with writing it’s the same as with everything else in life: only practices makes perfect. And since my native language is not English, it can help to improve my English too.
- I also hope to inspire people with my post. Maybe you even want to start your own blog after you’ve read this? :)
- It’s a nice hobby
- The blog is anonym. In reality, I’m kind of a shy person, so maybe this will boost my confidence.
- It’s a space for creativity. I have read a lot of blogs, and it is simply amazing how many different kinds of blogs there are. Is it a photo blog or only text, most of them are really helpful/true/inspiring.
So these are just a few reasons why I wanted to start a blog. Maybe you’re familiar with some of them; or maybe you are looking for reasons why you should start a blog.
This is my first blog post ever; I hope you enjoyed it.