I wake up, frantic, my alarm ringing, dreading the horrendous taste of morning breath. The clock says 7:32, I have twenty eight minutes to get to class which is all the way across campus. I do my make up, brush my hair and put it into a braid, put on a UCLA t-shirt, some running shorts, and my brand new Nike's and head down to the dining hall. Quickly I scarf down a bowl of oatmeal and a banana, jump on my bike and ride to class. Terrified, intimidated, alone, I walk into the huge, populous classroom, observing all of the other colleagues who are all here for the same reason; education. Awkwardly, I ask a girl with short blonde hair wearing a UCLA sweatshirt with running shorts and sandals, if the seat next to her was vacant, she responded yes. I took a seat, took a deep breath and acknowledged the fact that I was officially a student at the University of California Los Angeles. Surrounded by other students of all ethnicities, I begin to feel that I am an outlier of the group. They were all comfortable, suitable, and excited while I on the other hand was nervous, lonely, and intimidated. After a few minutes of me frantically observing my surroundings and preparing myself physically and mentally for the first college lecture I would ever receive, the girl who I was sitting next to with the cute, short blonde hair said, "I'm glad to see that I am not the only one that feels like they're going to throw up." I responded, "Phew, I thought I was the only one! Glad to meet someone who feels the same way I do and someone who loves to dress simply and comfortably just like me!" We both giggled, introducing ourselves to each other, sharing our life stories like we had known each other forever. It was that moment that I knew I had just met an individual who would be someone I could talk to and reach out to with anything, someone who would be a great friend for many, many years. The puny, bald headed professor cleared his congested throat and begin to introduce himself to the class. "I am not here to make you do anything I assign, you're adults now, you make those decisions, it's whether you want to be successful or not in your near future. I could care less if you turned none of the assignments in, this is not on me, its on you." Absorbing his harsh wrath in, I began to take notes on the topic he was presenting. Detailed, long, boring notes, filled with information that went in one ear and out another. Two hours later, class was excused. Side by side, the girl I had met earlier that period, Elizabeth, and I walked to the bike racks together. "So how did you like your first real-life college lecture?" I replied, It was somewhat intimidating, considering the fact that I did not comprehend one thing he discussed." We both laughed, she agreed and insisted that we get together to help one another with our struggles in the class. Excited, I was more than happy to accept her offer. We set a date and time and were off on our own ways. It was a long two miles to my dorm and just to make my first day at college worse, as I was riding home I began to hear a whooshing noise and realized that I had a flat tire. I was forced to walk the rest of the distance back to the dorm walking the object one was intended to ride. In one hundred degree weather, let me tell you, that walk was not one bit of fun. Relieved and exhausted, the dorm was in sight. I began to pick up the pace until all of a sudden something jumped out from the bushes and attacked me. That was the last thing I remembered until waking up in a densely populated room with tons of other college students. Half unconscious, I attempted to ask for help and confirmation to where I was and what had happened to me. No one would even acknowledge me. I felt nonexistent. Was this a dream or is this real life? It felt like eternity, but finally a large, masculine man in UCLA attire came and discussed with me the matter that was to be addressed. He explained what had happened and the cause for it all. Due to my "illegal" school credits given to me by Righetti, I was now required to accompany all of the other students in the room on a journey to Africa to complete the A-G requirements I needed in order to attend UCLA. I was forced, quickly, to gather the belongings I had at that moment, rush to the airport, and fly to Africa where I would attend a special school to account for the credits I was missing. Accompanied by seventy other students, I felt more alone and neglected than I did in the classroom earlier that day. I had only met one person, Elizabeth, who was most likely not on the plane. I slyly looked around, and to my surprise was excited when I saw short blond hair. It was Elizabeth! Reunited, both frantic, we gave one another a hug and prayed. She told me that a majority of the high schools in California had provided their students with the wrong classes and credit required to attend a four-year and that is why we and the several other students will have to spend at least a few months in Africa with only the belongings we have. We would have to fend for ourselves, find our own shelter and food, but will be provided with the schooling and education. I began to cry and think of how terrible the trip is going to be. I began asking myself tons of questions; What am
I going to do? What if it's not safe? What am I going to eat? My mind racing one hundred miles per hour. I thought my mind was going to explode. I attempted to fall asleep, but it was nearly impossible for an innocent, lost girl like me who just wanted to go back home. It was 18 hour flight filled with disruptive sleep, eating, and relaxation. We exited the plane onto the dry, hot land greeted by Africans who were ecstatic to see us. Speaking hardly any English, the African individuals had a hard time communicating with everyone. By hand signals and gestures, they guided us to a facility with shelter and other students. It was then around nine o'clock at night and we were all exhausted. With the skimpy amount of clothes and materials we had, we attempted to create a home-like bed and environment. It was only ten minutes later, myself and everyone around me were passed out. A beam of light shining in my face was my wake up call. I arose, dizzy, and searched for a restroom. Dirty, unsanitary, one-stalled, outdoor restroom was all we had. No door, only a sheet made out of camel hide. Accidentally, I went to go into the stall when I was startled to see a girl on the toilet. I awkwardly apologized and waited for her departure. She came out of her stall laughing saying that it was no big deal. I felt embarrassed and apologized once again. "Don't sweat it girl, shit happens!" We both laughed and she introduced herself. "Ashlynn, wow that's a pretty name, my name is Stevie, I just arrived not even ten hours ago, I'm a newbie I guess you can say." As I began to admire her big blue eyes and pretty blonde hair we were interrupted by her friend Courtney, who was also here for the make up of college credits. We introduced ourselves to one another and all headed back to camp. I woke up Elizabeth, introduced her to Ashlynn and Courtney, and we all headed to the school. We attended school for five hours a day, in classrooms with 200 other students with limited seating and no air conditioning. It was five months that consisted of the same routine, with no communication back home. It wasn't until February 25th when all four of us were qualified to attend the four year universities we were attending before we were forced to accompany others in the mission to Kenya. Excited but sad to leave all of the other students I met, memories I made, and education I received, I boarded the plane anxious to return back to my dream university. A long, boring 18 hours later, I was finally back on California soil. Saying goodbye to Courtney and Ashlynn was hard, but we exchanged phone numbers and promised one another we would stay in touch. I walked to my dorm to find a bunch of welcome home signs made by my roommates. Man, maybe I did have more friends at school than I thought. It had been a long, stressful, lonely five months. I was so relieved to be back to the place where I would better myself, make new memories, and meet new people I would make these memories with. That night as I was walking to class, I alluded back to all of the times I spent in Kenya, all of the people I met, created friendships with, all of it. I began to feel upset but then realized I was back attending the college I had wanted to go to since my first heart surgery at the age of seven. The mission provided me with a chapter in my life I would never forget, education I would not have been accessible to in the United States, and I was blessed to be given the opportunity. As I was approaching the classroom, I thanked God for all he had done for me throughout my lifetime, took a deep breath, and confidently walked into the classroom where I was to spend the next four years of my life preparing myself for a future classified by success.
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