The plane had a layover in Turkey. Just a couple of hours, but long enough to be the most uncomfortable silence I've ever lived through. I didn't say a word to my parents, and they didn't make the slightest effort to break the ice either. None of us had our phones, so we couldn't even retreat into the distraction of a screen. We just sat there, staring into nothing, weighed down by everything we'd left behind.
When we finally arrived in Bangkok, the first thing that struck me was the size of the airport. Suvarnabhumi Airport was massive, with high glass ceilings and sleek, modern structures that looked like they were trying to touch the sky. Everything was brightly lit, and although there were plenty of people, everything moved in surprising order. In the distance, I heard the murmur of Thai conversations, a language that sounded like music I couldn't understand.
"How are you?" my mother asked, breaking the silence as we waited for our bags.
"I'm fine. You?" I replied in a neutral tone, without looking at her.
She didn't say anything else, but her face showed a kind of exhaustion that went far beyond physical. We walked toward the airport exit, and my attention drifted to the enormous signs written in Thai. The letters were a dance of strange shapes, completely foreign to me.
"How lucky," I muttered sarcastically. "If Dad ends up on the news…"
I didn't finish the sentence. My mother's expression, tight lips and a sharp look said it all: better to shut up.
A man in a suit was waiting for us outside with a black SUV. My father didn't say who he was, and I didn't ask. We got in, with our few bags and silence as our only companion.
Traffic in Bangkok was chaos. The streets were full of motorbikes, tuk-tuks, and cars that seemed to follow no rules at all, yet somehow, everything moved forward. I looked out the window, watching skyscrapers blend with golden temples and tiny street food stalls. Everything was so different. So overwhelming.
We eventually arrived at an upscale residential area. The houses were modern, with huge windows, manicured gardens, and quiet streets, nothing like the madness we'd just driven through. Our new home was a two-story mansion, with white walls and minimalist details. Inside, the floors were marble and the furniture looked like it had been pulled straight from a design magazine.
I let myself fall onto one of the sofas while my mother made sure everything was in order. Finally, I couldn't hold it in any longer and asked:
"So what now?" I said, annoyed, staring at my parents.
"What do you mean, what now, Isabela?" my father replied, his brow furrowed.
"What are we supposed to do in this country? You can't even speak English to defend yourself…"
He flinched, just for a second, and I felt I'd hit a nerve.
"Sometimes you make me forget how much I love you, Isabela," he said in a flat voice.
"Daniel," my mother cut in sharply. "Let's go to bed. We're tired."
Then she turned to me.
"You start school tomorrow," she said, pointing at me.
"Wait, what? School? Where? Private lessons to learn Thai?" I asked, stunned, my stomach twisting.
She didn't answer. She simply turned and walked up the stairs. My father followed without another word, leaving me alone in that huge, unfamiliar living room. In a house that, although perfect, didn't feel like mine.
I sank into the couch, petting Lana, my dog, while trying to process everything. My life had turned upside down in less than twenty-four hours, and I had no idea how I was going to handle what was coming.
I hadn't slept at all. My thoughts were tangled up in everything that had happened and everything that was about to happen. As the sun began to peek through the curtains, my mother walked into my room holding a school uniform.
"Put it on," she said, her usual mix of firmness and affection in her voice.
I looked at the uniform, then at her, confused.
"You mean, like… real school?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yes. You start classes today," she replied, as calmly as if she'd just told me we were going grocery shopping.
"I just got here!"
"Lucky you, it's the first day of school," she said, as if that made it better.
"Lucky me?" I shot back, raising my voice. "Do they even speak English?" I yelled, panicking.
She sighed, patient as always.
"I'm sure some of them do. It's a good school, Isabela."
"For God's sake, Mom. You want me to go to a school where everyone speaks Thai, and I can't even say hello?"
"Then you learn it, Isabela. You're smart."
I stared at her, waiting for her to realize how absurd this all was. But she didn't. She just stared back, waiting for me to get up and put the uniform on.
"Don't stress me out…" I muttered with a resigned sigh.
I took a quick shower, the cold water helping to clear my head. I got dressed reluctantly, fixing my hair in front of the mirror. The uniform was flawless, but I hated it. The white blouse was perfectly pressed, and the navy-blue skirt had a sharp, elegant cut. I looked at myself, adjusting the ribbon tied at the collar.
Was I ready for my new life? Absolutely not.
Was I ready to be the laughingstock of some random school in Thailand? Not even close.
Was I ready for the earth to swallow me whole? Definitely.
What a shitty life.
The same man who picked us up from the airport dropped me off at school that morning. His posture was impeccable, his suit perfectly pressed. But what really caught my attention was something else entirely: every student walking through the school gates was a girl.
"Did they enroll me in an all-girls school?" I muttered to myself, feeling a mix of surprise and resignation.
I took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to step inside. I walked with uncertain steps toward the main entrance, my head full of questions with no answers. Without my phone, I felt completely lost.
"Where am I supposed to go? Where's the front office?"
I was the center of attention, I could feel it. Everyone stared as I walked by. I was used to being watched; it had always been that way. But this time it was different. They didn't speak my language. And I had no escape.
As I walked down a wide hallway, a girl bumped into me, nearly knocking me over.
She said something in Thai, and of course, I didn't understand a word. Her face was pure irritation, her scowl so intense it almost made me flinch.
"Sorry," I said quickly in English.
She scoffed, rolled her eyes, and walked past me like I didn't even exist.
"God, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."
As I composed myself, a soft voice spoke behind me:
"You don't speak Thai, do you?"
I turned quickly, finding a girl with dark hair and kind eyes. I nodded, feeling a little nervous.
"Don't worry, you'll get used to it. I'm from Korea, so I can tell you, it's easier than it seems."
I laughed, grateful to find someone who spoke English.
"Could you show me how to find the front office?"
"Sure. Follow me."
With a kind smile, she led me to the principal's office. To my relief, the principal spoke English. She explained how classes would work, handed me a schedule, and gave me basic instructions on how to navigate the school. She seemed strict but fair, which was a small comfort.
"Thanks," I whispered as I left the office, following her toward the classroom.
The classroom was larger than I expected, with more than twenty girls already seated at their desks. As I glanced around, my eyes locked with the same girl who had shoved me earlier.
Great. The jerk from before is in my class too.
When I walked in, all the girls stood up at once, pressed their hands together as if in prayer, and said something in Thai that, obviously, I didn't understand. I stood there at the doorway, feeling like a fish out of water, completely disconnected from everything happening around me.
What the hell did I do in a past life to deserve this?
I wanted to cry. But I bit my lip.
I had landed in a world completely foreign to mine, and I had no idea how I was going to survive it.
Welcome to Thailand, Isabela.