Student publications practicum students keep journals of their days at Darlington throughout the school year. They describe daily activities, feelings, and experiences so they convey the distinctive features of the year in School publications.
In a week’s journal, resident student Andrea Ondruskova, junior, Trencin, Slovakia, reveals that much of life is universal.
Ever since I started to learn English, I never doubted that I would study in the United States one day. My parents, family, and friends were very surprised when I, as a small just 10-years old, firmly stated that I would get a scholarship to study at an American high school one day. That dream came true.
Last November I was chosen along with three other students out of almost 300 applicants in a competition organized by ASSIST (American Secondary Schools for International Students and Teachers) and earn a scholarship to attend Darlington.
I really love this school, although being an international student is very difficult, I miss my family and during the first four weeks I wanted to come back home at least 4,000 times.
I wanted to come to improve my English, to learn new lifestyles, and see different “faces” in American culture.
A week's journal
Saturday
Best day of week
Saturday was here again. No early getting up, no school, no church, a day without necessity of studying, the only day in the week when you can do what you like and there is still a view that tomorrow will be Sunday. Everything can wait, everything can be delayed and I don't have to be stressed that something won't be done. I got up almost at noon and slept for more than five hours for the first time that week. I have never appreciated sleeping, but after my first month in America it is one of the greatest values in my life, although it’s rather scarce. I still feel strange, when I get up on Saturday morning and there are no particular things to do. I don’t have to tidy up, help my mum with lunch or just wash dishes. I would never say that I would miss it so much as I do.
Sunday
Family
I had already met my Rome mother, but I still hadn’t met the rest of the family. That day I was invited for lunch. I felt nervous and anxious when I was waiting for them in the dorm, for at least hundred times I had checked my look. All the way, I wanted to make a good impression, as I believe that the first impression decides whether somebody will like you or not. I hoped they would be nice, friendly people who would try to help me all the way. I supposed we would eat in their house, but actually we went to a restaurant- a beautiful busy place with special atmosphere. My host sister Laura was very nice and sweet, and her father reminded me of my own father that was very strange thousands of miles from home. Although the first minutes of our conversation were rather embarrassed and it got bogged down, I felt I could belong to that new world, to that new family I had just met. It was and still is good to know that there are the people who will be glad to help me and that a charming small room with sweet pink walls and comfortable bed waits for me whenever I want. I feel less homesick and lost after meeting them.
Monday
Surprises
On Sunday I didn’t do my assignments for history, I simply didn’t have enough time. I was prepared to get my first “0” grade. But after all my fear, nothing terrible happened. My English teacher understood and allowed me to do it for the next day. It often happens that you are so much afraid of something and finally, life is not so bad, as you thought it would be.
Tuesday
Sleep
I had never studied so long as that day. I went to bed after almost eight hours of studying, at about four a.m. I was so tired that I felt I was in a dream. Everything seemed to be unusual, less real than in normal. In my room the alarm clock were striking so loudly as a sound of thunder and air-conditioning reminded me of a constant rain falling onto the window. There was a mixture of new words in my head, I tried to remember what they meant, but there was no memory of them - just strange words without meaning. I tried to imagine that I was in my bed at home and everything was fine. But that way didn’t work. Finally, I fell asleep…
Wednesday
Faces
I was sitting in Chapel, listening to an exciting voice of a speaker and trying to understand. But it was almost impossible to perceive his words. All my effort was concentrated just on one thing- not to sleep. I thought how embarrassing it would be to fall asleep. Strict face with gray hair and stern eyes was looking at me. No, I couldn’t sleep. Mr. Neville was a good reason. He told me just once that my skirt was too short and since that moment I had been so much scared of him, scared of the man who may be a sweet loving grandfather fascinated with his grandchildren, but strict supervisor of keeping rules at Darlington. Sometimes people have two faces, but you have opportunity to know just one of them.
Thursday
Poem
I don’t like reading poems. Why should be things described in such a difficult and unclear way not to understand? It makes no sense to me. “Contemplations,” by Anne Bradstreet - my first English original poem was quite confusing, I didn’t understand much, anyway I had a vague idea what it was about and I was so much impressed. For the first time I was sure, that I could speak and fully understand English and maybe once no one would find me as a foreigner. In that very moment, while reading “Contemplations,” I decided to read Gone with the Wind in original. I believe it would be great…
Friday
When the bell rings
I love sound of the last Friday ring. There is no better feeling than two days without school and that is precisely what that vibrant almost annoying sound announces every Friday. I was just about to jump, throw my schoolbag into the corner and run away. Actually, I didn’t do it. I was just walking slowly towards the dorm, enjoying every my step, looking at fresh green of the lawn and listening to excited voices of kids and din of cars’ engines. Everything was moving, ready to escape from the campus, ready to enjoy Friday night. At that moment I felt to shout ” Isn’t life la bella vitta sometimes?”
