My name is Zala and this is my story.
In 2014, I think, my mom, my dear, dear mother, found an article in our local newspaper. It was an article about a college, a college that unites people from different parts of the world. It was called UWC. Mom showed me the article and said ''Zala look, this seems interesting, read it when you have time!'' So I did, because every article mom showed me turned out interesting.
This article was basically an interview with two Slovene students who attended UWC of the Adriatic in Duino. I read it and I immediately fell in love; with the place, with the school and with the whole concept of UWC.
I started doing researches about this intriguing colleges, I started reading online about the application process, about the IB diploma, about the future I could have. I talked with my parents about it and they both agreed I could apply for UWC in Duino – it was perfect; they loved the UWC programs and since Duino is only 37 kilometers away from where I live they immediately agreed.
On the 4th of February 2015 I sent my application form. I wrote a 3,000-and-something words long essay and everyone who read it loved it. My dear friend who tried applying two years ago helped me a lot and she even cried when she read my essay. She said I was absolutely going to be accepted but I didn't even want to think about it – I knew the disappointment would be too great. But even so, in the bottom of my heart, I truly felt that I could do it.
Four days after I sent my application in a big, white evelope, mom sent me an email, saying that the envelope came back – the postman said the address we sent it to didn't exist. I was in pure panic, thinking it was all a dirty joke, that Faith didn't want me to get in, and mom thought the same. She called the postman, she called to the address where we sent the application. In the end we re-sent it and they got it. I could finally breathe again. But now the hard part came – waiting.
I was never good at waiting, whether it was for Christmas, for a new book to be realized or for the end of my classes. Waiting just wasn't my thing. The people at the National Committee said we'll know the results in the beginning of March.
March came. I had to go to a school trip to Florence with my class, from the 9th to the 12th March. The webpage of my NC said that the candidates who'll get in the shortlist we'll be invited to a personal interview on March the 13th. Fun thing; our trip should've lasted from the 10th to the 13th but due to the occupation of the hotel we had to rebook our date.
In 2014, I think, my mom, my dear, dear mother, found an article in our local newspaper. It was an article about a college, a college that unites people from different parts of the world. It was called UWC. Mom showed me the article and said ''Zala look, this seems interesting, read it when you have time!'' So I did, because every article mom showed me turned out interesting.
This article was basically an interview with two Slovene students who attended UWC of the Adriatic in Duino. I read it and I immediately fell in love; with the place, with the school and with the whole concept of UWC.
I started doing researches about this intriguing colleges, I started reading online about the application process, about the IB diploma, about the future I could have. I talked with my parents about it and they both agreed I could apply for UWC in Duino – it was perfect; they loved the UWC programs and since Duino is only 37 kilometers away from where I live they immediately agreed.
On the 4th of February 2015 I sent my application form. I wrote a 3,000-and-something words long essay and everyone who read it loved it. My dear friend who tried applying two years ago helped me a lot and she even cried when she read my essay. She said I was absolutely going to be accepted but I didn't even want to think about it – I knew the disappointment would be too great. But even so, in the bottom of my heart, I truly felt that I could do it.
Four days after I sent my application in a big, white evelope, mom sent me an email, saying that the envelope came back – the postman said the address we sent it to didn't exist. I was in pure panic, thinking it was all a dirty joke, that Faith didn't want me to get in, and mom thought the same. She called the postman, she called to the address where we sent the application. In the end we re-sent it and they got it. I could finally breathe again. But now the hard part came – waiting.
I was never good at waiting, whether it was for Christmas, for a new book to be realized or for the end of my classes. Waiting just wasn't my thing. The people at the National Committee said we'll know the results in the beginning of March.
March came. I had to go to a school trip to Florence with my class, from the 9th to the 12th March. The webpage of my NC said that the candidates who'll get in the shortlist we'll be invited to a personal interview on March the 13th. Fun thing; our trip should've lasted from the 10th to the 13th but due to the occupation of the hotel we had to rebook our date.
So I went to Florence, still waiting for the news of whether I made it to the interview or not. I was checking my mail every day, the disappointment when I saw no new mails was getting bigger by every day, and so was the panic.
However, on the late evening of March 9th, I got an email. I was in my room with my friends, who were oblivious to the fact I applied for UWC. With my heart beating fast I opened the email, seeing it was from the NC. I read the first sentence and a scream left my mouth, followed by hysteric laughs – I made it, I was invited to the interview which was going to be held on March Friday the 13th in the capital city of Slovenia.
After my oh-so-controlled reaction I had to tell my friends about my plans. They were surprised, almost shocked, but they all wished me the best of luck. The only ones who knew everything were my three best friends. As soon as I got the mail I got up and ran down the stairs to the boy's dorm where my best friend's room was. I knocked so hard I thought my fist was going to fall down and as soon as he opened the door I hugged the sh*t out of him, screaming 'I made it, I made it, I made it!'
The trip to Florence continued, I had fun but inside I was trying not to give in to the panic. I had no idea what the interview will be all about, I wasn't even able to follow the last news around the world due to the trip and this fact was freaking me out.
Eventually I made it to Friday. My parents were happy for me, of course they were, and we all went to Ljubljana in the early morning. The interview started at 11:45 but before that I needed to get up, get dressed and mentally prepare. Oh, the getting dressed part! I was never interested about what I wore but that was a special opportunity! In the end I chose a pair of black skinny jeans (they reflect me perfectly since I'm a metalhead), and over a black shirt I put a woolen yellow jumper – I needed some energy and nothing is better than a cozy, yellow jumper! I thought I looked okay – not stunning or beautiful but I never did so I was pretty pleased with myself. Mom and dad got ready too and we were about to leave when I remembered something - my necklace! The hand-made necklace my mom's friend gave me. It has a yellow pendant which represents the labyrinth of Jupiter – Jupiter, which is the planet of higher education and colleges! I found it perfect so I put my necklace on and I was ready!
Through the whole trip to our Capital City (which only lasts 1 hour – thank God Slovenia is small!) I was pretty chilled and I successfully pushed the panic away. I was listening to music and just trying not to think abut what was about to happen.
We arrived to the place where the interview was held half an hour early so we settled for a drink. Panic was still sleeping peacefully and I was very grateful for that. However, time came, and the three of us went to the rooms where the interviews were taking place. Mom and dad accompanied me till the room. They wished me the best of luck and told me they'll be waiting in the cafe' down the street. So, with a deep breath, I went into the waiting-room where a middle-aged man was sitting, reading an article about UWC. I guessed it was a candidate's father – and really, through the glass door I could see inside a smaller room where four people were seated by the table, facing a girl. They were talking and that was the moment when panic took over me.
I passed the next five minutes shaking in my sit, praying to god that everything will be alright. After those five minutes of agony, the glass door opened and the guy in his mid-twenties left the room, smiling kindly to me. He was followed by an older man who told me I only had to wait for a few more minutes. Then the girl came out of the room and she seemed relieved and almost calm, although she flashed her father a tired smile. Kindly I asked her how it was and she said it was actually really chilled, more like a comfortable conversation than a colloquium. She then told me not to worry, wished me some luck and then she and her father left. And the guy called me in. And I swear to God I'm feeling nauseous even now, when I'm only writing about it and when it had actually already happened.
I came into the room. Everyone looked chilled, they were talking to each other, commenting how hot the room was. I could see the two men from before, another one was seated next to a woman in her mid-forties. And then there was an empty sit opposite to them. They all smiled kindly at me and they commented how nice my jumper was – how it brought happiness in the room because it was bright yellow. And I was very grateful I wore that. Smiling nervously I sat down and they told me I could eat some chocolate which was waiting in front of me. I smiled, saying I was too nervous to eat but that I'll have one later. They nodded and then the interview started.
I can't tell you much about the interview itself because a) I was so nervous I don't remember one question, let alone the stupidities I answered and b) I was really freaking nervous okay? What I remember is that they asked all sort of questions, even those I have already answered in my application form. I remember one man being extremely picky at what I said – he had a comeback ready for every statement, answer of mine. It was making me even more nervous. However, before I even knew, the woman smiled at me and said ''That's it Zala, thank you very much'' and I remember blabbing out ''What? Really? It's already been 20 minutes? Aww, but I only just got used to it!'' and they laughed. Well, it was the truth, I was just getting comfortable. The man opened the door and left the room once again and I stood up. The younger guy told me I could drink the water and I stupidly said 'oh it's for me? Thank god, my throat is so dry!' And I drank it while my arm was shaking and drinking never seemed so hard. The younger guy was looking at me amused and he said: ''Zala, the interview is over, calm down,'' and I said ''I will, I just need some…time''. The woman then told me to eat some chocolate again and I said I was going to but I somehow forgot – probably because I was even more nervous than before. After I drank some more, I thanked them and wished them a nice day. We said goodbye and I left the room breathing heavily and shaking hardly.
The whole way to the bar I was talking loudly to myself saying things like 'I screwed up, I screwed up so badly!' Because even if I couldn't remember exactly what I've said, I remembered all my epic fails and I had the feeling in my stomach that…I just screwed it all up. It was a very strong feeling which was hard to ignore.
I crossed the street and I could already see my mom and dad, waiting for me at the bar. Mom flashed me a worried yet curious look, as to say 'so? How did it go?' Without a word I sat down next to my parents. I remember clearly how shitty I felt – so shitty I couldn't even bring myself to look at my mother's face. Silently I ordered some water and then mom started asking questions; how did it go, what did they ask, what answers did I give, were they kind? Do I think I made it? With every questions I felt worse and worse until I answered with something like 'I messed up badly and I feel like shit so can you please not ask about it so we can all forget this ever happened?' I was so sure I screwed up, as sure as I was that I could make it to the interview – which was, if I can be honest, a lot.
I remember my mom looking a bit angry and I can understand why: of course she'd want to hear about the interview, about how her daughter did. But I was just feeling so down and for the rest of the afternoon I kindly ignored all the questions about the interview. It was only when we drove to the beautiful lake in Bled and settled at the restaurant that I finally felt like talking. Dad was paying the sweets we bought so I was alone with mom. That was when I finally told her all I remembered and all I felt. To my surprise, she looked calm and there was a spark of hope in her eyes – she still believed I could do it. And this gave me hope that maybe, maybe I still had a chance.
However, on the late evening of March 9th, I got an email. I was in my room with my friends, who were oblivious to the fact I applied for UWC. With my heart beating fast I opened the email, seeing it was from the NC. I read the first sentence and a scream left my mouth, followed by hysteric laughs – I made it, I was invited to the interview which was going to be held on March Friday the 13th in the capital city of Slovenia.
After my oh-so-controlled reaction I had to tell my friends about my plans. They were surprised, almost shocked, but they all wished me the best of luck. The only ones who knew everything were my three best friends. As soon as I got the mail I got up and ran down the stairs to the boy's dorm where my best friend's room was. I knocked so hard I thought my fist was going to fall down and as soon as he opened the door I hugged the sh*t out of him, screaming 'I made it, I made it, I made it!'
The trip to Florence continued, I had fun but inside I was trying not to give in to the panic. I had no idea what the interview will be all about, I wasn't even able to follow the last news around the world due to the trip and this fact was freaking me out.
Eventually I made it to Friday. My parents were happy for me, of course they were, and we all went to Ljubljana in the early morning. The interview started at 11:45 but before that I needed to get up, get dressed and mentally prepare. Oh, the getting dressed part! I was never interested about what I wore but that was a special opportunity! In the end I chose a pair of black skinny jeans (they reflect me perfectly since I'm a metalhead), and over a black shirt I put a woolen yellow jumper – I needed some energy and nothing is better than a cozy, yellow jumper! I thought I looked okay – not stunning or beautiful but I never did so I was pretty pleased with myself. Mom and dad got ready too and we were about to leave when I remembered something - my necklace! The hand-made necklace my mom's friend gave me. It has a yellow pendant which represents the labyrinth of Jupiter – Jupiter, which is the planet of higher education and colleges! I found it perfect so I put my necklace on and I was ready!
Through the whole trip to our Capital City (which only lasts 1 hour – thank God Slovenia is small!) I was pretty chilled and I successfully pushed the panic away. I was listening to music and just trying not to think abut what was about to happen.
We arrived to the place where the interview was held half an hour early so we settled for a drink. Panic was still sleeping peacefully and I was very grateful for that. However, time came, and the three of us went to the rooms where the interviews were taking place. Mom and dad accompanied me till the room. They wished me the best of luck and told me they'll be waiting in the cafe' down the street. So, with a deep breath, I went into the waiting-room where a middle-aged man was sitting, reading an article about UWC. I guessed it was a candidate's father – and really, through the glass door I could see inside a smaller room where four people were seated by the table, facing a girl. They were talking and that was the moment when panic took over me.
I passed the next five minutes shaking in my sit, praying to god that everything will be alright. After those five minutes of agony, the glass door opened and the guy in his mid-twenties left the room, smiling kindly to me. He was followed by an older man who told me I only had to wait for a few more minutes. Then the girl came out of the room and she seemed relieved and almost calm, although she flashed her father a tired smile. Kindly I asked her how it was and she said it was actually really chilled, more like a comfortable conversation than a colloquium. She then told me not to worry, wished me some luck and then she and her father left. And the guy called me in. And I swear to God I'm feeling nauseous even now, when I'm only writing about it and when it had actually already happened.
I came into the room. Everyone looked chilled, they were talking to each other, commenting how hot the room was. I could see the two men from before, another one was seated next to a woman in her mid-forties. And then there was an empty sit opposite to them. They all smiled kindly at me and they commented how nice my jumper was – how it brought happiness in the room because it was bright yellow. And I was very grateful I wore that. Smiling nervously I sat down and they told me I could eat some chocolate which was waiting in front of me. I smiled, saying I was too nervous to eat but that I'll have one later. They nodded and then the interview started.
I can't tell you much about the interview itself because a) I was so nervous I don't remember one question, let alone the stupidities I answered and b) I was really freaking nervous okay? What I remember is that they asked all sort of questions, even those I have already answered in my application form. I remember one man being extremely picky at what I said – he had a comeback ready for every statement, answer of mine. It was making me even more nervous. However, before I even knew, the woman smiled at me and said ''That's it Zala, thank you very much'' and I remember blabbing out ''What? Really? It's already been 20 minutes? Aww, but I only just got used to it!'' and they laughed. Well, it was the truth, I was just getting comfortable. The man opened the door and left the room once again and I stood up. The younger guy told me I could drink the water and I stupidly said 'oh it's for me? Thank god, my throat is so dry!' And I drank it while my arm was shaking and drinking never seemed so hard. The younger guy was looking at me amused and he said: ''Zala, the interview is over, calm down,'' and I said ''I will, I just need some…time''. The woman then told me to eat some chocolate again and I said I was going to but I somehow forgot – probably because I was even more nervous than before. After I drank some more, I thanked them and wished them a nice day. We said goodbye and I left the room breathing heavily and shaking hardly.
The whole way to the bar I was talking loudly to myself saying things like 'I screwed up, I screwed up so badly!' Because even if I couldn't remember exactly what I've said, I remembered all my epic fails and I had the feeling in my stomach that…I just screwed it all up. It was a very strong feeling which was hard to ignore.
I crossed the street and I could already see my mom and dad, waiting for me at the bar. Mom flashed me a worried yet curious look, as to say 'so? How did it go?' Without a word I sat down next to my parents. I remember clearly how shitty I felt – so shitty I couldn't even bring myself to look at my mother's face. Silently I ordered some water and then mom started asking questions; how did it go, what did they ask, what answers did I give, were they kind? Do I think I made it? With every questions I felt worse and worse until I answered with something like 'I messed up badly and I feel like shit so can you please not ask about it so we can all forget this ever happened?' I was so sure I screwed up, as sure as I was that I could make it to the interview – which was, if I can be honest, a lot.
I remember my mom looking a bit angry and I can understand why: of course she'd want to hear about the interview, about how her daughter did. But I was just feeling so down and for the rest of the afternoon I kindly ignored all the questions about the interview. It was only when we drove to the beautiful lake in Bled and settled at the restaurant that I finally felt like talking. Dad was paying the sweets we bought so I was alone with mom. That was when I finally told her all I remembered and all I felt. To my surprise, she looked calm and there was a spark of hope in her eyes – she still believed I could do it. And this gave me hope that maybe, maybe I still had a chance.
We came home around seven in the evening and tired we all sat on the couch, ready to watch some TV together – a thing we rarely do, if I'm honest. As always, I had my phone with me (yes, I'm one of those teenagers who are really attached to their mobile phones). Suddenly, my phone started ringing and an unknown number showed on the screen. Deciding it could be important, I picked up. Mom gave me a confused look as to say 'who's calling you at half past eight in the evening?' but I just shrugged it off, too surprised by the caller's words. The man on the other side introduced himself and said: ''I'm calling from the National Committee of UWC Slovenia, do you remember me?'' To be completely honest with you , I did not remember him, not by name at least. But of course I couldn't have said no so I said ''Yes, of course I do!'' I was surprised, more than anything else, especially because after the interview one of the men told me that I'll find ou whether I made it or not in two weeks – not the same evening after the interview!
My heart was beating fast like never before but it all seemed to stop as soon as the man said: ''Congratulations Zala, we decided to give you the scholarship to UWC in Mostar!'' I was shocked and all I could say was ''R-Really?'' After what he gave me some more information and then I thanked him one more time and wished him a pleasant evening.
When I ended the conversation, I remember throwing the phone away and screaming, with tears of joy running down my face: ''Mom, dad, I made it! I made it into UWC in Mostar!''
As soon as 'Mostar' left my mouth my dad's face darkened while mom's looked shocked. Not what I've imagined, of course. I imagined smiles and tears and a 'congratulations!' or a 'I'm proud of you'. What I have never, ever imagined was my dad furiously lowering the volume of the TV and saying a strict and definitive ''You are not going.''
I will not write what came after that because it's too painful. I lived through it once and I do not want to live through it again.
In the next few days I cried and felt as if the whole world around me crashed down. If I wouldn't have been accepted that would have been bearable. I knew I had the chance to not get into UWC and I prepared myself for disappointment. What I never prepared myself to was for actually getting accepted but for my father taking the possibility of going away from me. I would have never expected something like this; I worked my butt off for this, I hoped and prayed and tried and in the end I did it…but my dad decided that this is not what he wants for me. He told me that Duino, which is nearby, is something he could bear with. But sending me to Mostar, to a country he doesn't like, to a country where war was fought less than 30 years ago… No, this was something he couldn't do and in those moments I hated his close-minded, judgemental and hateful being. If he was a person full of hate for that beautiful country and its kind people, this should have never been the cause of taking some freaking good education away from his younger daughter! If he was a close-minded person this didn't mean I was one too!
After my sister talked to him, my sister, who is one of the rare people to who my dad actually listens, I decided I should talk to him too. I never intended to stop pleading him to let me go. I wanted UWC more than I ever wanted anything and I was ready to fight until I got what I deserved. Because if I made it in, I am pretty sure this is what I deserve.
So I had a long talk with dad and I could tell his heart was screaming 'no! I'm not letting you go!' even when his mouth formed that 'yes, you can go' which I needed to hear more than anything else.
Only now, almost five months later, my dad finally got used to the idea that I'll be finishing high school abroad. He's still not particularly happy about it but I cam say he realized what a good opportunity this school is. And I'm immensely glad that he's letting me go. That he decided to give me the chance to follow my dreams. It was hard and mom suffered just as much as I did during the period of dad's ''no''. But we made it. I will forever be thankful to my parents. I love you both so much <3
So yes. Coming here took longer than expected and the road was filled with tears and screams and broken hearts but now we're here. Ready for a new adventure, with the knowledge that, as a family, we are strong and close to each other, with bonds filled with love and hope.
For the end, another huge thank you to my mom, but especially to my dad. I love you both to the moon and back!
Love always,
Zal
My heart was beating fast like never before but it all seemed to stop as soon as the man said: ''Congratulations Zala, we decided to give you the scholarship to UWC in Mostar!'' I was shocked and all I could say was ''R-Really?'' After what he gave me some more information and then I thanked him one more time and wished him a pleasant evening.
When I ended the conversation, I remember throwing the phone away and screaming, with tears of joy running down my face: ''Mom, dad, I made it! I made it into UWC in Mostar!''
As soon as 'Mostar' left my mouth my dad's face darkened while mom's looked shocked. Not what I've imagined, of course. I imagined smiles and tears and a 'congratulations!' or a 'I'm proud of you'. What I have never, ever imagined was my dad furiously lowering the volume of the TV and saying a strict and definitive ''You are not going.''
I will not write what came after that because it's too painful. I lived through it once and I do not want to live through it again.
In the next few days I cried and felt as if the whole world around me crashed down. If I wouldn't have been accepted that would have been bearable. I knew I had the chance to not get into UWC and I prepared myself for disappointment. What I never prepared myself to was for actually getting accepted but for my father taking the possibility of going away from me. I would have never expected something like this; I worked my butt off for this, I hoped and prayed and tried and in the end I did it…but my dad decided that this is not what he wants for me. He told me that Duino, which is nearby, is something he could bear with. But sending me to Mostar, to a country he doesn't like, to a country where war was fought less than 30 years ago… No, this was something he couldn't do and in those moments I hated his close-minded, judgemental and hateful being. If he was a person full of hate for that beautiful country and its kind people, this should have never been the cause of taking some freaking good education away from his younger daughter! If he was a close-minded person this didn't mean I was one too!
After my sister talked to him, my sister, who is one of the rare people to who my dad actually listens, I decided I should talk to him too. I never intended to stop pleading him to let me go. I wanted UWC more than I ever wanted anything and I was ready to fight until I got what I deserved. Because if I made it in, I am pretty sure this is what I deserve.
So I had a long talk with dad and I could tell his heart was screaming 'no! I'm not letting you go!' even when his mouth formed that 'yes, you can go' which I needed to hear more than anything else.
Only now, almost five months later, my dad finally got used to the idea that I'll be finishing high school abroad. He's still not particularly happy about it but I cam say he realized what a good opportunity this school is. And I'm immensely glad that he's letting me go. That he decided to give me the chance to follow my dreams. It was hard and mom suffered just as much as I did during the period of dad's ''no''. But we made it. I will forever be thankful to my parents. I love you both so much <3
So yes. Coming here took longer than expected and the road was filled with tears and screams and broken hearts but now we're here. Ready for a new adventure, with the knowledge that, as a family, we are strong and close to each other, with bonds filled with love and hope.
For the end, another huge thank you to my mom, but especially to my dad. I love you both to the moon and back!
Love always,
Zal