[Tuesday, October 31, 2023 at 09:55]
When that personally-never-met-before teacher gave Dad a map, saying something along the lines of, "Her school is not that far from here, don't worry," I didn't know just how much of an understatement was hidden behind those comforting words. And judging by Dad's expression, I think he also only realized it after we reached the first stop.
I should have been happy. It was my very first time travelling, and I even got to leave my birthplace and see new things. But we were in the bus for more than 7 hours, then had to take the train, only to end up in another bus right after. It was just too tiring. Plus, I had the pleasure to discover that I'm not really meant for long journeys during that time. Threw up a little while after my first diary entry. It was a mess but at least I managed to save my gift from the nauseating mixture of snacks and stomach juice. Forget sightseeing, the rest of the journey was spent with my head in different bags and Dad rubbing my back, holding my hair, fretting like a headless mother-hen trying to look out for her chick with eyes she no longer had. It's a miracle my organs are still inside. With everything that went out, I was pretty sure some would end up trying for an escape now that they'd been given an opportunity. To sum it up, the only thing I truly got to see were the contents of my stomach rather than landscapes.
Dad decided to take me there a few days before the 31st because he hoped I could use the extra time to grow familiar with the new environment, meet new friends, etc. The school was the type that asks you to live on campus, which was enough reason for Dad to try and have the school chosen for me be changed to another. His request was denied with a polite smile (by that same unknown teacher), hence the days of continuous torture. We only realized staying in the dorm was the only option for most when we got down from the first bus and were told we needed to "take the train next".
AHHHH Dad will probably lose his jobs, now! The journey is longer than we thought. We don't have a phone. He won't be able to tell them he mistakenly asked for the wrong amount of off days. But it's not even his fault. Not entirely at least. That map was freaking useless. It was so confusing! (Or, Dad just sucks at reading maps…)
At first (he said) the map showed an X not too far from where we live. Since no one seemed to have ever heard of that school, we ended up having to ask how to get to the X spot instead. Said X spot was actually the stop we were supposed to get down on from the first bus, not the city in which the school is located itself. So, thinking we'd finally reached our destination, Dad asked about the school, but no one knew anything about it there either. He looked at the map again. The X now showed another X. He scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly. "…Ah, I think I didn't look right. There's another mark here." And so we asked how to get to that second X.
Afterwards, train experience complete, someone actually came and showed us which bus to take next, even accompanying us on the ride. The woman looked elated when she first spotted us looking around like lost pups. She told us how she had been waiting for us. (She didn't seem like she noticed the state we were in the entire time.) How did she know we were coming? I don't know. Dad offered that they must have received a call since we were openly asking around at each stop. This place is rather hard to find after all. Maybe they always have an ear out to make sure all students reach safely. Maybe there's always someone waiting at the train station around enrolment period? But this still doesn't explain how she knew we were the people she was looking for, unless all their staff is forced to memorize every first year's face from their registration documents before being sent to their respective waiting positions?
Well, whatever. I'm too tired to think anymore.
Thanks to the pill offered to me by the incredibly joyful woman, our lifesaving guide, who's currently seated calmly in the seat in front, my upset stomach feels like an old memory already. I don't know what that was, but it does miracles!
On Dad's end, he was a bit sulky at first. He really wanted my first time travelling to be better. Much better. He brightened up real quick when he saw me taking out the diary from the bag, though. He didn't see me use it the other day because he was deep asleep. I was so happy at how overjoyed he looked the moment he saw that I'm really using his gift. I told him already that I genuinely loved it. I guess he wasn't convinced until he saw me using it with his own eyes. Did he think I lied and disliked it so much I was never going to use it? Good thing I decided to make another entry before reaching school then. Hooray to no longer having my face down a bag!
Of course, Dad wouldn't be Dad if he doesn't get dramatic every so often. He quickly looked away when I unlocked it. Most definitely his attempt at saying, "I'm not looking. Write whatever you need to write. I'm really not looking. See? My eyes are looking the opposite direction!" without actually saying it. It's only after he looked the other way "to protect my privacy" that he noticed the sight outside.
It seems I'm not the only one travelling so far for the first time.
The clock at the front of the bus shows that it's nearly 10 o'clock. So, we left early in hopes of reaching the school just as early, yet ended up arriving on the 31st still…
But seeing the reflection of Dad in the glass window right now, looking like a child discovering the wonders of the world for the very first time, all signs of exhaustion almost completely hidden behind the expression of mesmerization, maybe the journey wasn't that bad in hindsight.
I guess I'll have to hope the miracle that helped me pass my exams is still sticking to me. I can use it to pray that Dad doesn't get fired. I should also try and write a letter to his employers, just in case. Maybe if they see the stamps, they'll know for sure Dad wasn't cooking up bulldung about the weird pickle we got ourselves in unknowingly.