Diary of Me! Part I

First Day of School

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First day of school. What should’ve I expected? Other than what I had expected on the other first days of school that I had to go through in my life. Well, heat is one thing. We were still in the summer, the last days of summer. Then it would be fall, which is like summer in Syria. Also stupidity was the second thing; I was after all going to study¹ Bacaloria, in Syria…. But it was the National High School S., one of the most famous schools in syria. After what I have heard from others, one would expect some class, nonetheless, as everything else, there was no class. I was of course oblivious to this since it was my first day and I didn’t even go yet…

¹(more like memorizing)

Ground Floor Outside of My Building

Me and my friends called each other and made a deadline to be downstairs just a bit before the deadline². We decided it would be smart to reach the school a wee bit early, just to get good seats. We strolled down the street, making for the highway to get some bus transport (most buses in Syria take 10sp (which is about 20 % of a dollar.)) After rotting a bit waiting for some bus that has the capacity to take us, we paid the amount and squeezed through the crowd onto any space available on the bus to sit³.

²(we are the lazy type, even if it is just to make a deadline)

³(sometimes we have to sit on the metal interior over the wheel, which isn’t intelligent cause the bus drivers tend to lose the minor ability of driving, which is supported by the fact that we don’t have flat streets too)

Downtown, Streets

Because of the fact that we are very observant, after finally reaching a place where we could walk the way to school, we pulled our sticking sweaty backs from the chairs. Then we realized that we weren’t that early, not early at all, more like going to be late if we don’t start running. So we started strutting the way through the ever thickening crowd of people.

Old City National High School of S. School Building

We finally reached the accursed build, knowing it from past experience when we signed ourselves into the school and paid the bills. Though we didn’t need past experience, because anyone with a common sense would understand that it was the school from the horde of uniformed students splashed all over the place with their cigarettes, flooding onto the streets.

Class Number (*)

After elbowing the way through, we all started looking for our classes, which we knew the number of from the message they sent. After finding mine (on the first floor) I took my seat near a skinny kid on the second row. “ahh, another day at school” But that was just the beginning………..