On his first day at his new school, the boy was unable to attend due to severe diarrhea.

Her mother was worried, and thought that she had caught feijoada.

But deep down, the boy knew exactly how it had come to be. His friend from his previous school told him, "There are only foreigners over there."

"What should I do?" The boy, who had always lived in a small town surrounded by mountains, came to the other side of the world. "Everyone at Grandma Iracema's house speaks a language I don't understand at all. I wonder if it's the same at school," he thought, feeling very anxious.

He changed his attitude and went to school the next day. His mother accompanied him to the school gate. The boy was in a hurry and passed through the gate without even saying "ciao" to his mother.

The schoolyard was full of boys and girls.

When the bell rang, everyone rushed to the classroom.

The boy started looking for the classroom of Class 4C, but there was nothing written on the door. When he was confused, someone tapped him on the shoulder and told him, "This is it." It was his cousin, Lucas, who lived nearby. He was by far the biggest boy in the class, and the boy felt reassured just by having him nearby.

When he entered the classroom, it was as noisy as a schoolyard. The seat at the very front was empty, so the boy sat there.

After a while, a woman came in. She took out a cell phone from her big bag and put it on the desk. The boy was surprised. Cell phones were prohibited at his previous school. He had never seen even his teacher have one. "Everything is different in Brazil," he said in surprise.

The teacher started taking attendance. The students were completely disinterested. Some were playing games with their backs to the teacher. Others were chatting.

Soon the boy's name was called, "Mateus Kenji Harada," and he stood up and replied loudly, "Yes."

The teacher, who had been looking down until then, suddenly turned forward, looked at the boy, and said something.

The whole class laughed. The boy had no idea what was going on and felt extremely embarrassed.

When I got back home, Grandma Iracema was waiting for me at the entrance. She gently stroked my head and said, "I have some delicious cake for you, go wash your hands."

The boy cried loudly. "You'll get used to it soon, so just be patient," was all Grandma Iracema could do to console him.

After a month, the boy started to enjoy school. However, this was only during recess. It was only for 20 minutes, but the boy felt liberated. He quickly finished his lunch and then played with a ball. He was always with Lucas.

But the lessons were tough. The teacher spoke so fast that he could barely hear. He wrote on the blackboard so quickly that he couldn't copy it all down. The boy complained to his mother almost every day.

His mother was busy looking for work, but she went to the school to meet with the principal, who immediately called the boy's homeroom teacher and asked him about the boy. The teacher had no idea that there was a student in his class who had returned from abroad.

"My child was born in Japan. He had been living in Japan until now. He loved his school in Japan and didn't want to come to Brazil. But still..." she said, her voice trembling as she began to cry. The two of them approached her worriedly, put their hands on her shoulders and offered her a chair.

"Mother, please calm down. Please continue speaking if you don't mind."

At that time, the homeroom teacher was called by the staff. Since the teacher was not in the classroom, the students started fighting.

"How pitiful my child is! That coward made him come all the way to Brazil..."

The mother, her eyes blazing with anger, stood up and continued speaking.

"I worked before Kenji was born, in the same factory as my husband. The work was tough, but I did my best for the sake of our baby. Then Kenji was born, and I started doing piecework at home while looking after the child. I made Brazilian cakes and pies for fellow Brazilians to help with the family finances. We were happy every day."

The mother's expression softened. The principal offered her coffee, but the mother was engrossed.

"Just six months ago, my whole life went awry. My husband left us. He quit his job at the factory. And I couldn't find him."

Then the principal started paying close attention to the clock.

"A month later, when Kenji returned home from school, his father was waiting for him in front of the house. He told Kenji that it would be better for him to go back to Brazil, gave him some money and left."

"Didn't your mother get to meet Kenji's father?"

"That day, I was working part-time in the back of a Brazilian store, cutting hair and doing manicures. I didn't get home until after 10pm..."

The principal looked nervously at his watch again. "Well, mother, don't worry. I'll explain it to the teacher. Kenji is just a child, so he'll get used to it quickly. Trust me."

As the days passed, the boy seemed to get used to his new life. Although the class was only four hours long, he continued studying after returning home. He had always been good at math, but the questions were in Portuguese, so he sometimes didn't understand them. It was also difficult to conjugate verbs, and it was hard to distinguish between masculine and feminine nouns! His worst subject was Brazilian history! It was so complicated!

But I looked at things positively and said, "I have to do my best." Because I came to Brazil with my mother, who insisted that she would never return to Japan. I have to become Brazilian.

On a Sunday afternoon, the boy went outside and was surprised! The town was bustling. People were hanging small yellow and green flags on strings and decorating the streets, and people were drawing the Brazilian flag on the ground in front of a bakery and painting it. A large group of children were gathered to watch. The boy was invited by Lucas to go closer. It was the first time he had seen such a large and colorful Brazilian flag.

That evening, I received an unexpected present from Grandma Iracema: a yellow T-shirt, a blue hat, and a yellow Vuvuzela. The T-shirt I particularly liked had "BRASIL" written in large green letters. At that time, I learned that the Brazilian soccer team was participating in the World Cup.

"Kenjinho lives in Brazil, so as a Brazilian, you have to support Brazil," said Grandma Iracema, hugging the boy tightly.

From that day on, the boy's world expanded. Like a tree that was transplanted from a small town in Japan to the big country of Brazil, the boy grew strong.

Then, when the Brazilian team scored their first goal, Kenjinho jumped up and down with great joy. His mother was surprised to see this. It was the first time she had seen such a shy child get so excited! His tanned face and sparkling eyes looked like jewels.

Another Brazilian has been born! Kenjinho has a heart as big as Brazil. Yay!

© 2012 Laura Honda-Hasegawa