My first day in school

My teacher's name was Miss Paul. She seemed to be a nice lady. Elderly, as I best remember, but she knew absolutely nothing about communicating with me. Nor did I know how to communicate with anyone. It was probably one of the few days in my life that I was quiet in class.
She took me to the library at lunch. She gave me a hardbound book with the alphabet in BIG letters. I was miffed. I did take it home and looked at it with disgust. Afterall, I was already a proficient reader in my native language. I thought this was so childish. I showed it too my mom and noted, "They must be stupid around here."
One brilliant moment was math. To test my skills I got a worksheet. The page had pictures of apples and oranges. Apples and oranges? What was this all about? Two apples and three oranges made 2 + 3. My teacher than had to show me the answer was five. I looked at her rather quizzical. How could two apples and three oranges ever make five. apples were apples and oranges were oranges and I learned they are not the same. At home I was the math champ. I was able to do two digit multiplication in my head. I use to lay in bed and entertaining and challenging myself many a lonely night. Oh, yeah, that is another blog in the future.
Perhaps the most enlightening moment of the day was that we learned how to make butter. I was so fascinated. I had come from a strict academic environment. Time was actually made to learn to make butter. Wow.
Recess. Recess? You mean we got time to go play outside between classes? I was the center of attention. Everyone trying to communicate with me. I tried my best to decode a whole new language. Somehow hop and frog got confused. I made like a frog and they all laughed. I remember thinking, "Hmmmmmm, maybe that is not what they meant."
Then there was lunch hour. The smell of the cafeteria was grotesque and institutional. Never did I have the experience of eating lunch at school. I was somewhat fearful. I watched what was going on. Trays, tables, where would I have to go. I had a brown bag. I was so glad I had that because it made matters more simple. In it; one Hershey chocolate bar (worst chocolate ever to a Dutchman, bag of potato chips (never tasted before), and a sandwich. Let's not talk about the nutritional value. I was just relieved that I didn't have to eat that school stuff. And so began the education of Yvonne (another blog post) in America. All games.