There is an interesting part of being one of a kind in a new place. We usually tend to pay attention more and be in constant need of alertness. I remember my first day at school in the United States. I was so excited! I liked to think that I was an extroverted person because people always have told me that I was very talkative and outgoing - here it’s something weird about me: not so long ago I considered people’s perspective of me more than I can relate. Not proud of that. But I was who I was. 

So anyway, I was on my feet preparing myself and packing my things around 6am. Woke up at 4:30am thanks to my anxiety. I was going to hook up on the YELLOW BUS, for God Sake! (Yes, the ones from the movies). In my country there is no such thing. It's not that the ones we have are bad, but they are not from "the movies". That was at least what I thought at that moment of my life. I had no choice but to be excited about it. I prepared my breakfast - waffles full of honey, butter and a cup of chocolate - and headed on to my bus stop. The bus stop wasn’t far. In the US, the school buses pick you up in front of your house or the nearby corner. I was in “the corners” group. It was just me waiting for the bus on that day. I remember thinking “How weird?! A neighborhood this big and just me waiting for the school bus…”. The bus didn't take so long to arrive. When I saw it turning the corner where I was standing, I felt chills. Something I wasn't thinking about until that time hit me. It was growing and growing during the seconds the bus was coming in my direction in that corner. Did I really know english? Was I capable of actually speaking english? What if I didn’t understand them? Worst: what if they didn’t understand ME? I didn't have the internet on my cell phone. What if they didn’t have wi-fi in school? I was going to stay there from 8am to 3pm for God Sake. How was I supposed to deal with that? Man, I remember feeling each question hitting me like a child who realized his mother isn’t around in a very big supermakert. I felt desperate. I really don't remember when the bus stopped and opened the door. Suddenly, a lady driver was looking directly at me and said something like “Good morning, girl! Hop up!”. And I did. Before I sat down, I understood she asked for my full name. Then, she started driving and I supposed she had done with me. I sat down in a chair close to the window. All the questions were still flashing in my head. Some minutes had passed by. I turned my head to take a look around. There were 3 kids inside the bus already. One of them was napping. The other 2 were on their cellphones. We were still in my neighborhood. I turned back again and remembered I didn't have the internet to search for anything. All of those questions were hitting all over me again. As I told you: some of a kind in a new place. I bet a thousand dollars that nobody of the four were thinking about how to speak English - mostly because they seemed north-americans and I am a brazilian. Oh, why four? The lady driver counts, of course.