Chapter 5: A Change of Setting

I remember the first day of school, just days after having made the flight from Belgium to California, my new home and a pivotal change of setting. It would be weeks before all of our possessions (except several suitcases with clothes and the like) would complete the trip overseas.I only knew a handful of English words and phrases; not nearly enough for me to understand a conversation. “Hello, my name is Helena,” was the longest sentence I could say, albeit in a thick European accent.

With a hug goodbye and an encouraging, “het zal allemaal wel oké zijn,” from my mother, I entered the classroom. The first thing I noticed was the wooden spoon dolls hung up on the walls across the room. One, I remember, was meant to resemble a Spanish dancer: a purple pleated skirt and white blouse conveyed as much. I realize now that this doll was most likely made by a child’s parent or parents, because it was one of the better ones in the room. But what was more significant was the fact that this doll was an outsider too. That comforted me more than the friendly smile the teacher gave me when she saw me standing in the doorway.

“Welcome,” she said as she came over to take my hand. She was wearing a long black skirt and a white top; her hair was tied back in a ponytail. She seemed nice enough. “Class,” she said facing the rest of the students, “I would like you to meet our new classmate, Helena. She just moved here from Europe so please make her feel welcome.” 

She led me to one of the scattered tables and sat me down at an empty seat. A boy with sandy brown hair sat to my left and a chubby Asian girl to my right. The girl smiled at me, and, seeing that I had no pencils with me, gave me one of hers to use for the rest of class. She was to be my first school friend.

Several days after my first, the teacher asked me if I had an atlas at home, or if I needed to borrow one. Our class was to complete a geography assignment and apparently everyone else already had one. 

“An atlas?” I asked. It was a word I had never heard before, and I could not imagine what it could possibly be. For all I knew, it was an orange, or a bird.

“Yes,” the teacher said. She tried to explain; “A book, with, uh, pictures of the world, pictures of different countries.”

A book? Een boek! I thought. Ik heb er zo één! I smiled and nodded my head. The teacher seemed relieved. Although some of the students looked at me quizzically, I couldn’t help smiling; I had understood what the teacher had said! It wasn’t until much later that I realized what she had actually asked me for, but by then I was too shy and embarrassed to tell her.