I am a 15 year old high school student. Already my life has been a rollercoaster ride. I was born in Shiratoridai, Japan, but left shortly after. I spent my life in California until I was 7, when my family and I moved to Costa Rica.
Costa Rica is a small, tropical, Spanish-speaking country in Central America, right in between Panama and Nicaragua. The first year there we lived in a duplex in the city, and then we moved to a small cabin in the rainforest. Once we felt too isolated at the top of a wet mountain, we moved back down to the city and attended an international private school.
At the time I went to that school I was in the seventh grade (by Costa Rican standards). My class was pretty much half Chinese and half Latin American, with one other English speaking girl besides me. We became friends, but, of course, then she left to Miami. I was left making friends with a Costa Rican drama queen.
Looking back at my time in that school, all I can say is that they watched a few too many telenovelas. The class was divided into two halves: the ‘Popular people,’ and the ‘Losers.’ Miss drama queen was striving to be in the popular crowd, and I was dragged along. Finally, we were in, and I couldn’t understand any of their conversations they had in rapid Spanish. So I decided to sit alone at lunch.
There was only a week until I could be free of talking to her Royal Highness, but we were partners in the upcoming science fair, so during that week there were still brief exchanges of words between us. It all went well until the day of the fair. I stayed up late the night before finishing a poster she said she was going to do, so I was both tired and angry.
I presented the project to her. She glanced at it and said “it’s okay.” I walked back to my chair in the class, absolutely ecstatic about getting the Queen’s approval. Yes, so I told one of her friends just what I thought about her and her friend of course reported to the court. When the proposal was made to chop off my head, there was a resounding ‘aye.’ And it was in the hall, in front of teachers and students of all grades, that they let go of the guillotine.
She was having a fit. Fire was burning in her eyes. I thought she was going to explode, then I realized that she already had. It was terrifying. “I’ll never forgive her! Ever!! I’ll never speak to her again!” is only some of the words that poured out and echoed in the halls. Talk about insecure. And then, for some reason I can’t fathom, everyone believed her. And I was alone at last.
Don't think that I don't love Costa Rica. I love it dearly, and I consider it my home, but going to that school was certainly an experience. I felt like I was in a soap opera. It was upsetting, of course, having rumors spread about me, but overall, the part I hated most was the A given to her for my science project.