10. Swim team

[Fall 2015]

My goal was, in fact, to join the volleyball team at Davis High School. Unfortunately, signing up for sport teams is a thing you need to take care of a few weeks before the season starts, the sooner the better. I did not know that, and when I went to talk to volleyball coach on the first day of school, it turned out to be too late already.

So in order to do any sport, the only other choice I had was girls' swim team. I had a funny yet unpleasant experience at the very beginning - because of not understanding the everyday language too well yet, I confused the swim practice time set for 6 pm with 6 am. As a result I was forced to wake up my host dad early in the morning to drive me to the practice and there we were, both half-asleep, finding the way to Franklin Pool in Yakima when it was still dark outside. I was confused, yet relieved, to find absolutely nobody there. At least we could return home and have one more hour of sleep...

Anyways, I have to very honestly admit that being in a swim team was definitely not one of my favorite experiences. I found it exhausting to have an hour-and-a-half long practice every day of the week, and I would look at the clock every couple minutes to see how much time do we have left. During these practices, with my swim goggles on, I would sometimes allow myself to cry, and that was simply because I've already started to miss home really badly. Also, the everyday routine was demoting, and I still struggled with finding friends at Davis and outside it.

9. First struggles and recovery

[September 2015]

I'm again bored in physics classroom. My classmates all around me are busy doing the exercise set on their own or in groups, while I'm already done with long ago. I'm not sure if the teacher would approve the fact that I worked on the whole thing at home. The directions were clear: we work on it in class, and do only a couple exercises a day.

I'm spending the class time fingering the huge physics textbook and worrying about my exchange. I have no reasons to worry, of course, but I'm feeling slightly depressed with the routine, with every day looking the same, with most of the classes being no challenge for me whatsoever, and with the inability to make friends in such a big school. All that plus an increasing longing for home causes my eyes to come warm and fill with tears, but I don't to allow myself to cry here at school.

8. First days in American high school

[August 26, 2015]
What you can find annoying in this post is that I'll be doing numerous comparisons between "what it's like in Poland" and "what it's like in America". Well, I can't fully describe my first impression on American school without comparisons, for they are what I base my observations on. I hope you'll forgive me that and that you'll like the story :)

***

My first day in school starts with English. I walk into the classroom and take a seat close to the door. First thing that hits me is that kids do not talk to one another. No one does at all, even though we are all Seniors, so, except for me, perhaps no one is new to the school. Then I remember that, unlike in Poland, there's no fixed groups of students that have all lessons together. Here, students have individual schedules, what means that they find themselves in different group of people in every class.

7. Freshman Orientation

[August 24, 2015]
School doesn't start until two days from now, but I already get to know the reality of A.C. Davis High School. Here we go: Freshman Orientation.

I get the first idea of how it's going to be in the months to follow. It's 7:30 in the morning, the sun stands low, the air is cool, and the space of Davis courtyard vast. This time, it's also filled with some two hundred fellow students. Freshmen. To be precise, I am going to be a Senior, yet I am new to the school. And the Orientation is something an exchange students undoubtedly needs.  

I'm surprised to be the only incoming student wearing our school's colors - black and orange. I have prepared myself for being a Pirate way back in Poland - I remembered to pack all clothes I could find in these colors. I've already been a Pirate even before I formally became one.

6. America and Americans

[August 2015]

I feel free.

Everything is new, and nothing from what I do, feel, see, hear, eat, read, or watch, would I associate with home. I'm the same person who has suddenly found everything around new. I have found myself new.


Certain sights, sounds, and sensations will be always associated with the fall of 2015. Listening to the country music which I've expected myself to hate, and which I actually had enough of at some point, but which I also learned to love after a few weeks. The sight of brown hills surrounding entire Yakima Valley and its lack of green. The sounds of water sprinklers and the animals raised on our farm, including sheep and chickens. The smell of a book I bought at the airport in Seattle. The taste of chicken burrito from Taco Bell and of Hot Pockets, my first favorite American snacks. Sound of a microwave which we never use at home and which is a normal thing in the States. Even the unfortunate smell of the litter box used by four cats living in our house.

5. Language barrier and activities

[August 2015]
Not without a reason have I out together the aspects included in the title. Especially in the first weeks of an exchange program, they are tightly associated with one another. 

A lot of people have been telling me that my English is very good. Yeah, to be honest, even before going abroad my language was good enough to speak it more or less fluently, and to understand most of it when watching movies, reading books, or talking to others - in English. 

Facing up the same language spoken by natives is a little bit of a confusion. The first impression is that they speak fast, and I can't understand a word. Plus, the vocabulary they use is slightly different from the one I've been taught in school. It's the jargon, but it's also a sensitive difference between British English and American English. 

4. First time at Davis High

[August 2015]

Walking into Davis High School for the first time was like entering a hospital, or a clinic rather. A very new, very modern and very well-equipped clinic. Well, two of these features are correct. The school is indeed brand new and it is well-equipped. 

A. C. Davis High School. One of two high school belonging to Yakima School District, capable of holding something around 2400 students and more than 200 staff members. It's been renovated for last couple years and the fall I am to become a student there, the renovation is to be completed. 

3. Discovering Yakima

[August 2015]
Yakima Valley. A piece of land surrounded by hills spread and high enough to isolate it from the more friendly climate of the Pacific Coast. What I mean by friendly is basically cooler and more humid, for this is what I'm longing to once I find myself in Yakima. This part of the state is pretty much a desert, with the air being hot and dry and the sky cloudless. The only green patches of land are the lawns of people's properties that are being hydrated by water sprinklers.

I feel as if I found myself in some sort of a movie, though I can't really say what kind of movie it would be. It's neither a western, nor an American comedy, but something makes the town feel very American even though I've never had a chance before to shape my view on what 'American' actually means. Or had I? After all, I'd read couple books before I came over, and I had explored the neighborhood in Google View, so I sort of knew what to expect.

From what I see, there is only houses; I don't see any blocks of apartments. Buildings are all spread out, making the city feel really flat, especially due to brown hills surrounding it all the way around. There's also this specific feeling of space. However, I dislike the high-voltage lines dangling messily low above the streets. Something about them makes a rather depressing impression.

It's hard to spot a property or a public place, such as school, restaurant, or even a store, that wouldn't have an American flag hanging from above its entrance or waving on a high mast. Something tilts in my heart, for I finally know for sure that I am in the United States indeed. Apart from Star-Spangled Banner, there's some other flags which I don't recognize. I am yet to. 

What inspired me to become an exchange student

I have already begun to tell the story of my exchange program, but I've forgotten to include what's critical - an introduction. How did I become an exchange student? What were the reasons I decided to go? What opportunities did I see and what obstacles did I meet?

For nine years of my schooling, I hadn't even heard of such a thing as an exchange program; or if I had, I don't really remember it. It was nothing I would get interested in, it was nothing I would have ever taken seriously into consideration.

Not unless I went to high school. One day at the beginning of the school year, something pushed me to take a look into my class' gradebook. (We still used paper gradebook back in the day. Now it is entirely replaced by the on-line version). Curious, I took a peek into the class' roll. There was a name of a girl who never showed up at school, yet who was registered as one of our students. Right by her name there was a note: "Trip to the USA."

Intrigued, I searched and read a few blogs and websites concerning exchange programs. But it's my mom who I need to give credit to, for it was her who had initially got into the thing much more than I had. She did a research and ignited such a thought in my head: "Why wouldn't it be something for me?"

2. The Travel to the U.S.

It’s mid-August of 2015 and I’m about to officially begin my exchange program. How does it feel for a foreigner to travel to the United States of America for the first time? How does a twenty-hour-long jump from the middle of Europe to the West Coast of the U.S. look like? 

Leaving home is hard. At an inhuman time of 4 am, when I’m just about to go to the airport, I take the last walk around my place before leaving it for ten months, ten long months. It’s not about the time, really; what hits me is the awareness that the next time I’m here, I’m not going to be the same person anymore. The way I’m looking at certain things now, from the favorite stuff in my room to the general perception of home, is going to be different. Even though I know that the exchange will be temporary and I will be back someday, I can’t help feeling that something is indeed ending.

Farewell to Warsaw

1. Once a Pirate, always a Pirate

Once I became a Pirate.

I used to walk aboard the ship of A.C. Davis High School. I used to pass the grey and orange hallways, to sit in the classrooms, to attend assemblies and to have tons of fun with fellow Pirates. 

I was a student at Davis High for ten months, ten wonderful months, during which I’ve forgot about the reality and lived an adventure.

I used to explore the Washington State and nearby areas, discovering how it is to live in the United States of America. 

I used to hang out with people who showed me that you can live differently - even if it hasn't necessarily meant 'better.' 

I've learned to make an impact on myself and the people around me. And this is what I'm hoping to accomplish in my blog.