A Stranger in a Strange Land

I remember when I first arrived. It was like walking through a dream. Everywhere were people talking, and I could hardly understand a word they were saying. Although I knew some of the language, I could only understand a slow speaker who used simple words, and then only when he was speaking directly at me. When you ski in a thick fog, it dulls the voices of other skiers making them incomprehensible, fleeting phantoms. This was like skiing in a whole crowd of babbling ghosts who were all hurrying past in every direction. It all seemed so unreal.

My mother pushed me along the corridor towards the classroom where I'd be having my first lesson. As we walked, she tried to impart some last-minute grammar upon me. I remember it was something about using 'you' rather than 'thou', when addressing teachers, and that it was a necessary part of good manners. I nodded, although I didn't have a clue as to what she was talking about - I'd been shoved in at the deep end and the water was rapidly going over my head. Then we met my class teacher, and she and Mum spoke for a while. I just stared blankly, waiting for the next thing to happen - perhaps that I'd wake up from all this. After Mum left and I'd said 'bye', my class teacher took me into the classroom. One might imagine that here at last, I'd begin to take an interest, but no - I remained in the same apathy as before. I was quite small for my age, certainly the smallest of the class, and my classmates seemed like so many gibbering giants. I was given a place in the first row in front of the teacher and we all sat down. After a short, but incomprehensible, beginning-of-term speech I was introduced to the class. The class teacher then proceeded to question me on my previous education. Although we spoke mainly in my language, I don't think she learned much - neither of us knew enough of the other's language to express ourselves properly.

For a long time, I was reticent, speaking only when spoken to, and trying to walk out of this dream world. The language barrier had enveloped me, and was slowly but surely turning me into an introvert. As I rarely spoke during lessons, I soon became a fast favourite with many of the teachers. Nobody called me a crawler, though - you could tell there was no effort on my part. Later, as my knowledge of the language improved, I did begin to pal with my classmates, but still, I had few real friends. After two years the loneliness caught me up and hit me full. I prayed to God, that He might send me just one friend who could speak my language. It was a lonesome cry, and strangely enough, it heralded the end of the seclusion. Though the petition was never fulfilled, it was answered better - I began to wake. It didn't happen at once, nor did I see it at the time, but throughout the next few years, the world changed for me. Giants transformed to humans and gabble became speech. Cold inquisitive stares turned into warm glances and the mist vanished in the noonday sun, banishing its ghosts with it. And as I rose, I began to chase the missing years, the chances I'd lost and the joys I'd shut myself from. I'm still running now and maybe I'll be running all my life, but at least I'm awake. No longer am I a stranger in a strange land.