2 weeks 
I wanted to rebel against my mom and my grandma who’ve only been great to me throughout the times I’ve known them. I felt so sure that 2 weeks of wasting my summer just to have an “experience” at school in Japan is not at all worth it. It’ll just go by in a flash of a boring second where I could have spent those weeks exploring and enjoying my summer vacation in Japan.
The first day comes. I wake up to my excited sister shaking me and telling me it’s the first day of school. First day of school in the middle of July?? That sounded too ridiculous and unfair to me. I don’t remember how I got ready that day, but I know how much I didn’t want to go. Especially seeing how my younger brother wasn’t forced to go with us only made it seem more unfair to me. I felt myself falling asleep as my grandma drove me and my older sister to school. I felt out of place in an environment where I don’t know anyone, except maybe a few of my mom’s friends—sons and daughters—whom I only met recently that month. 
I remember my Grandma and my mom both walked me to my homeroom teacher to introduce myself. As embarrassing as it is, I cried and begged them to not leave me at school to the point where my new teacher had to grab on to me so I wouldn’t escape. Don’t mind me but I was only  6 years old at the time which explains my immature behavior. Anyways, once I collected my emotions I walked into the classroom and introduced myself quickly and quietly to get this torture over with right away. The teacher assigned me to a seat in the front row, and I sat heavily on the chair with slouched and cross-legged posture. 
Classmates seeing my attitude big-eyed, I was so sure that nobody would approach me. I wasn’t planning on making friends either. However, the moment snack break comes, classmates crowded around my table bombarding me with questions. It was refreshing to me since I never thought they would be so interested in someone that transferred at such an odd time. But just as refreshing that experience was for me, it was also refreshing for my new classmates to interact with someone raised at foreign place like Los Angeles. One of the questions I vividly remember was “How do you say frog in English?”
Well… you see… despite living in the States for 6 years, my English skills were nothing near being fluent. Rather, I spoke more fluent Japanese rather than fluent English. But even a little 6-year old had her own pride. I replied quietly, “Umm I’m not sure but I think it’s kaeru”, which is literally frog in Japanese but pronounced more like an English speaker. I was sure they would laugh at me and doubt my English skills.
To my surprise though, they all believed me and exclaimed with “Wooow that's really cool! I guess English and Japanese are pretty similar!”. I felt pretty guilty now, but then again, I kept it a secret since I didn’t want to disappoint my classmates. 
Thankfully, the conversation about asking me to talk in English subsided and it became more focused on them introducing me around campus. I went to the library and found some awesome books to read. One thing that surprised me the most was how students were taught to clean after themselves by doing janitor’s work. We would have to put up chairs and tables back once we’re done eating. We would take turns mopping the floor. It was a kind of culture that I never saw in California. 
Eventually, a place where it felt foreign became a comfortable place for me. The same goes for my classmates, I was basically foreign to them but they were quick to welcome me as part of their school community. I participated in volunteer activities like bringing carrots for rabbits taken care of at school, ate school lunch together, played tag during P.E., and many more fun activities. 
My experience at Japanese school ended up being an irreplaceable memory of mine. Not because I got to fool my classmates, but because of the part of Japanese culture I got to know. Despite my strong urge and passion of not wanting to go at first, I was fully satisfied with my experience. It taught me a valuable lesson that what we reject out of laziness and mere assumptions can at times take away the very opportunity that allows us to end up making so much out of it.