I remember so many things about when I went to America; I missed so many things about Brazil. I felt like I didn’t belong in America because things were so different. I can say that I had the worst first day of school on Sept. 5, 2005. My first impressions of America were, “Wow, what a beautiful place,” but making American friends was the hardest part of moving there. I remember that when I first went to America, all I could think of was, “Wow, I’m here, I’m in America.” It was kind of a dream coming true, because I always wanted to go to America and visit, but I didn’t think I would stay there for more than one month. I used to think that everything was so different and the people were different. I never thought I would be able to fit in. When I realized that I would be living there for awhile, I started missing Brazil. I missed the climate, I missed the people, I missed my friends and most important of all, I missed my family. I missed being able to feel that warmth of being in my home country with my home people. I got a little lost because I couldn’t imagine me living in the United States; I couldn’t imagine my life away from the trust and love of my friends.

I remember that I couldn’t even sleep the night before my first day of school. I was so excited that my brain wasn’t working right, but then when I realized that I was actually going to a school with a bunch of American kids, I crashed. I was scared and started crying and it took my mother a half hour to calm me down. So when I finally got to school, I couldn’t let go of my mother’s hand. Now, imagine a 12-year-old girl not being able to let go of her mother’s hand! And when I finally did let go I was perfectly aware that I would be going off to my worst first day at school, and I was right. My day was horrible; I couldn’t understand a word those people were saying. I hated the teachers and most of all I hated myself for being there.

Ana Paula was the very first girl I met when I got to the U.S. We met at the Tisbury School. We were trying to integrate ourselves into the school. Our first look at each other wasn’t the greatest look, but after a while we became great friends. Our first summer together was the best. We would spend hours together. We would see each other every single day and do crazy stuff. Oh, I miss the summer of 2005.

My first impression of America was, “This is a beautiful place, the place where people come to work and most of them who dream of coming here never will.” I always thought that the United States was a dream place, and it is. I mean, it can be. I remember that when I got to the ferry to come to the Vineyard, I looked at my mother and said that I would not get into that thing. She said that it was the only way to get to where she lived. And so I closed my eyes and went on. I was pretty scared at first but then I got used to it. My impressions were kind of changing; I was wondering who would want to live on an Island in the middle of nowhere, but I have to admit it was gorgeous. I thought everything was too quiet. There was no light on the streets at night, super different from where I lived in Brazil. I didn’t think I would like to live there.

American friends? I can say I have a few, but not a lot. The friends I have are the ones I made when I first got to the U.S. They are the ones who saw how hard I had to study to learn their language, and they didn’t care if I said a word wrong. They helped me instead. I made some new friends along the way, but hey . . . you can’t make people like you, right? I talk to a lot of Americans, but that doesn’t exactly mean we are friends. We may only be colleagues. I have a few American friends that I trust one hundred per cent but there are others that I don’t trust at all. I have always been the kind of girl who makes more boyfriends than girlfriends; I get it from my mother.

My father went to America when I was two years old and my mother went when I was four. I never really asked them how they were able to adjust in a different country, but I guess that all they wanted was to give me a better life so they did what they had to do. Neither of my parents plan on coming back to Brazil. They don’t have that in them anymore. My mother doesn’t see herself as Brazilian anymore, because she’s so used to the life she has in America.

I’ve been in America for five years now, and I thought all I wanted was to come back to Brazil and live my life from where it stopped when I left, but I realized that I don’t want to turn the clock back. I have so many things to accomplish on Martha’s Vineyard still, and I realize that I don’t even want to come back to Brazil. Now, that I’m actually in Brazil, and I’m staying here for three months, I see how hard life is, and I understand why people dream about living the American dream. So why would I waste my opportunity?

Ana Carolina Nascimento is a student at the Martha’s Vineyard Regional High School who is in Brazil until December. She will be contributing occasional pieces to the Gazette Commentary Page. Her first piece was published on Sept. 24, and can be viewed at mvgazette.com by subscribers.