Strange World, Same Planet

I am not good in creative writing, but I hope this expresses the experience of many Spanish-speaking people when they first arrive in a foregin nation.

At 7 am, the moon sets on my side of the world and the sun rises on yours. Even the air tastes different. I blink and regretfully get out of bed. The moment arrives early with very little preparation�"unlike astronauts headed for Mars. Unprepared but still in an uncontrollable forward movement, I walk downstairs and push in my breakfast of tortilla de huevo with a flourish that makes Mami and Papi proud. “Evrythin’ good?” my Papi asks with a strong accent and I almost cry right there; my stomach churns. El bus comes for me and so do the zombies on the bus. Though surrounded by them, loneliness pervades me and I miss my vocacional, pan dulce, uniformes, mis amigas, y mi español. I get off the bus and walk because the crowd walks. Their language confuses and scares me; I stare and they stare back. A teacher walks by and I clumsily ask for help, “Eh, doo yooh know waarr tis izzz?,” pointing down at my schedule. “Yes, follow me.” The teachers talk among themselves and then attempt to tell me something while I stare dumfounded. Finally, they point and with gestures attempt to explain. The teachers try to say my name but fail terribly: “Jovet Figroa; Giovanni Figueloa; Gogivette Figuero.” All classes drag on. By third, my stomach rumbles uncontrollably. Eating lunch inside seems so weird. The food is tasteless and no good. I cry and throw it away. The day goes from bad to worse. Finally, one class is left. As I run and stumble into people in a rush to find where I should go, I see a peculiar face. I turn and follow and try to slur out some Spanish�"it seems like such a long time since I spoke it�"“Hola. ¡Espérate! ¿Hablas español?’ He just looks me up and down “What? Are you crazy? I am not Hispanic.” I am late to fourth and forced to ridiculously try to explain what happened, who I am, but I cannot continue with this routine anymore…but then a girl speaks up, “Está bien. ¿Qué paso?” Relieved I blurt out my story in the fastest Spanish I manage. The girl translates; the teacher thanks her and points for me to sit beside her. The rest of the class finishes before I can count “uno, dos, tres,” but no more fear remains in me. My new friend gave me a tour and explained this strange world to me. Together, we try to make this planet like home. At home, Mami and Papi give me a bear hug. They feed me the best food I have ever tried and like ambassador of Puerto Rico I relate my experiences in a foreign world.

Author's Note

Also, check the Spanish version, "Mundo Extraño, Mismo Planeta."

Reviews

[gsethi]

I absolutely loved this. The beginning brings you right into the story, and shares a familar feeling with quite a lot people. The mix of spanish/portugese (I learnt spanish for 3 years so I basically understood what they meant) shows the reader that indeed the person is foreign and trying to fit in.

[smiley:)]

Hey Gio,
I can kind of tell this is nonfiction. Wait is it? This story is not only scary (especially when you're put in that person's shoes) but true, when you are going somewhere totally different then where you're use to, you don't know where you fit in. And we always need someone there to help us out, for example: that girl.
Magnifique!
~Smiley:)