Chad De Guzman is a 17-year-old Filipino guy living in the Philippines with his mother. He's the captain of a volleyball team in his school, and is a traveler. Though he's funny, quirky, go-with-the-flow guy, he's pretty emotional when it comes to h...
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There are a lot of people enrolled here in the school. My first class this morning is Physics. I'm not really into Science, but I have no other choice but to take it. It's not like it's different from the Philippines. You don't really much have choice there. From freshman to senior year, you have to take the major subjects only, like English, Mathematics, Science, History, Values Education, and Physical Education. That's it.
Fifteen minutes ago, the school has been filled up with students immediately going to their locker rooms to retrieve their books, something I've only seen in movies. They haven't noticed me yet as they're busy with their stuff. I, for one, am just holding my schedule the lady – I forgot her name already – has printed. The hallway, lined up with locker rooms, is filled with students scattered around. There's a lot of shouting, greeting, and hey bros and what's up being thrown. Once the students have calmed down from getting their things and meeting their best friends, I follow them suit, blending it. I'm surprised they haven't noticed me yet. It's really surprising since Dylan said that everyone knows the news.
I look at my schedule again and confirm the room number. The bell rings and the students rush to their respective classes. I stay out of their way and look at them with such interest that I momentarily forget that I, too, need to be in class on time or else I'll make a good impression on my first day. I walk alongside with them while hanging my head low, not meeting anyone's eyes. Though some of them have noticed me already, I pay little to no attention to them.
When I reach the classroom, before I enter, the teacher – a small lady with a bright smile, her black hair pulled into a bun – notices me and I hand her my schedule. She looks at me and the paper for a few seconds before nodding her head and motioning me to come forward.
As I step into the room, all eyes are on me. They are now beginning to murmur, and I feel uneasy just by looking at them. Again, I'm not socially awkward nor do I have social anxiety. It's just that, these people's eyes on me, it feels like they are already judging me. That's sort of freaking me out.
She leads me to the center and announces that there's a new kid, who is me, and asks me to introduce myself. Everyone's eyes are glued on me, waiting for me to tell them my name and where I came from. They seem interested, some are leaning in to get a better view, as I tell them who I am. I tell them that I came from Pateros, Philippines. One student has the audacity to cut me off, only to tell me that there's only a Pateros in USA. And I know that story. One American guy went to the Philippines and he named that American state after my hometown. That's it. The End.
"You can take your seat beside Mr. Alien Platypus," the teacher, who I learned her name is Natalie, jokes. The whole class laughs and a guy my age – brown eyes, curly brown hair – protests.
I smile, despite the uneasiness I'm feeling. Everybody seems light and friendly. My hands are getting clammy, and my mind is going haywire. I take a seat beside Mr. Alien Platypus – I want to know the story behind that – and greet him good morning. He says it back, mumbling incoherent words under his breath. He glares at me for a moment when he notices me staring at him and, me being a Filipino I am, offers a peace sign, which stuns him. A smile breaks into his face.
