A whole year?

It's not such a bad place

When Chloe and I took Alicia to school for orientation and registration at the end of August we met another exchange student. She was sitting outside on the beautiful summer afternoon, surrounded by kids happy to see each other as they ate barbecued hamburgers and ice cream bars, good-naturedly tossing about expletives as they grumbled about the impending end of their summer. She, though, sat with her host mother looking like a terrified child who'd been snatched from the only world she'd ever known. Which she was. Imagine being a smart, happy kid at home and then being sent to live with strangers in an enormous foreign country not because you wanted to go, but because someone else thought it would be good for you. Not only do you not want to be there, but you speak virtually none of the native language, which puts you in classes far below your age and academic level. You're quiet and don't reach out to make friends because to be so forward is contrary to your Asian culture. Consequently, you're perceived as not only not the sharpest tool in the shed, but a snob. It doesn't take too long for other students to give up on trying to make you feel welcome.

I would occasionally ask Alicia how this girl was doing and she'd say she seemed to be okay; very quiet, but she laughed and smiled a little. I think the only thing that kept her from abandoning her exchange and running home soon after she arrived is the concern and hard work her first host family poured into making her stay here a success. They didn't let her hide in the sanctuary of her bedroom where she was safe and secure and didn't have to make an effort to fit in. They made sure she was involved in school activities and asked other students if she could sometimes be included in their social activities. They encouraged her to assimilate while providing her a loving and warm refuge to return to for comfort and support. I doubt that she realizes how fortunate she was to have these people as her first host family.

Today I went to the school play, Little Shop of Horrors. This exchange student was in the small chorus, singing and dancing and on display, stage front.

One way to do it

If you want to read about someone who is making the most of his Rotary exchange (or any exchange), read this guy's blog, thousands of miles from home. I don't know him, but his mom, who I also don't know, suggested I might be interested in reading about his experiences. She was right and I'm happy she took the time to tell me about it. He takes it upon himself to explore the area, meet people, and find interesting things to do (often as a result of the people he's met). I'm much too timid when it comes to doing the same, but reading of how he spends his time there has convinced me that holding back out of fear or embarrassment is a monumental waste of time.

Only a whole year?

Every exchange student who has made it the entire year will tell you that a little past the half-way mark they realize that they want to stay. Instead of thinking of how far away going home is, they think of how soon leaving is. They realize that they may run out of time before they're able to do everything they dreamed of doing. They think of leaving their new friends and families and are reminded of how hard it was to leave home what seems like a lifetime ago.

Chloe says she doesn't want to come home, but I think she means she just doesn't want to leave. That's not so different than when she first got to Pamplona when she said she didn't want to come home, but wished all of her friends and family could go there. If she were suddenly faced with the prospect of never returning home, she'd probably have a much different opinion. Just imagine how our world would change if we were able to travel great distances in minutes and at little cost. Then she could combine her Spanish world and her world here into one fabulous world.

Let's clarify some things

When Christopher was a baby I took many photographs of our first child, as first-time parents are wont to do. Most people will graciously look at a few too many snaps of the most adorable baby in the world (as all babies are, even though people other than their parents may fail to see it). But I had lots and lots of pictures, so I gathered them into a large album just for us, a place where we could look at them if we so chose, without inflicting them on anyone else. New babies and the promise of the future they bring with them tend to inspire stay-at-home parents to organize and catalog, and it was better than tossing them in a drawer (the photos, not the babies). I was fully aware that no one else would be interested in looking at our baby pictures, and intended to put a photo or two in my wallet to show anyone who might ask to see the baby. It's a good thing no one did, because in twenty years I've yet to put photos of our kids in my wallet.

One day my father-in-law asked if we had any baby pictures. I hesitated to show him the album because I wouldn't be interested in looking at a couple hundred photos of someone else's kid and knew full well that he'd be even less interested. So I said well, yeah, but this is all I have and they're all of Christopher and the book is meant just for us and I certainly don't expect you to look at all of them. About halfway through the album he said, "These are all of the kid!"

Dammit! I just told you that, so why are you making me feel like an idiot first-time parent when I've made an effort to not be that stereotype? Look, there are no photos in my wallet! I didn't yet grasp the extent of his dry sense of humor, but his comments were always tinged with a hint of seriousness.

This blog is like that photo album - a concentration of all things pertaining to Chloe's exchange, but by no means the focus of our lives. I can understand that not everyone will get the satire and teasing humor in many of these posts. I was shocked to hear that even my own mom thought that I had pressured Chloe into being an exchange student (saying goodbye was a lot more difficult than Chloe had anticipated). Besides being far from the truth, it's a bit insulting to Chloe that people (especially people who don't know her), are making judgments about her character and assuming that she's not capable of making the most of her exchange, or of telling her mom to back off if she thought it were necessary (just imagine what I don't record here).

I've gotten a couple of e-mail messages from exchange students who are concerned that I'm smothering Chloe and not allowing her to have her own experience; that I'm living this year vicariously through her. I'm guessing that there are more people with the same concerns who haven't written, so I'll try to dispel some misconceptions.

For the record, being an exchange student was Chloe's idea. I was surprised when, in eighth grade, she came home and said she wanted to be one when she got to high school. I told her then that she'd have to do the work to make it happen. She did, with our support.

A few exchange students are concerned that I've damaged Chloe's psyche by, among other things, talking about her failed attempt at making a cake. No, it wasn't a big deal, and yes, we tease each other, and if that were enough to crush Chloe's spirit she certainly would not have what it takes to survive as an exchange student. I'm happy that they are in a sense sticking up for her by defending her. But they are guilty of judging their perception of her exchange experience (based on what I write, not what she writes) against their own: if it differs from theirs, they tend to think she's not doing it right.

Someone else inferred that she doesn't want to learn the language but I can't figure out where I implied that. If I did, I didn't mean too - she's worked very hard to learn the language, even if she's been frustrated at times. And what kind of whack-job mother would send her child "freaking" bandages? The kind who sends them as a family in-joke, as was explained in the original post about that package. The kind who figures that as long as she has to send a package with the gift for the new host parents and the thank you gift for the last host parents, she might as well toss in a box of Sesame Street Band-Aids because it will surely bring a smile to the student's face, all for about a buck-thirty-nine extra.

Remember, too, that just as exchange students get to have their experiences, the parents of exchange students get to have theirs. This is an externalization of my thoughts. The focus of this blog is to record the information, thoughts, and emotions I couldn't find when I was looking for information about exchange students. The sole reason for its existence is to talk about being the parent of an exchange student. I'm not writing about writing, or the books I'm reading, or the movies I've seen, or items in the news that interest me, or the gate I just built, or the yard work I should be doing, or the puppy I'm training, or the great evening we had with friends, or the planning for a friend's law-school graduation party, or the weeks spent every day in the CCU of a hospital wondering if Grandpa Ike might make it out alive, or the logistics of my mom's upcoming double-knee replacement surgery, or my aunt who is dying a horrible death from a particularly hideous form of cancer. Because of its single-subject focus, I can see where readers might infer that every waking moment of my day is taken up with obsessing about Chloe's exchange, but in reality the blog takes up no more than 10 minutes of an average day and, despite what the time-stamp might say, I write most posts between 1:00 and 3:00 AM, not a time when I have too much else penciled in on my calendar.

As for living through Chloe this year, I've already written about my opinion on that here. You see, that's the problem with commenting about things after only a cursory glance at the material: you might miss the relevant bits.

No whining

I've been reading things from mostly American exchange students living in many different countries. The forum in which they are posting lends itself to complaining and generally venting about problems they're having with their exchanges: host families, school, difficulty in making friends or learning the language. That's fine because they need a place to blow off steam during one of the most emotionally trying and overwhelming times of their lives so far. No matter what anyone might say, the only people who truly know what they're going through are other exchange students. Included in these discussions are many responsible kids who are obviously representing their home country well. Still, I'm surprised at the number of kids who don't seem to get it. A common thread is "It's your year," which implies that the student doesn't have to listen to anything anyone else has to say. Along with their Rotary pins, every student should be given one of these:

Guess what: It's not all about you. Yes, you're the one living in a foreign country with strangers. You've taken a huge plunge that will test your maturity and fortitude many times. For that you deserve credit, but with that comes responsibility. You didn't get there alone. You aren't supporting yourself. Strangers have given you a place to sleep, food to eat, and a part of their lives. Lots of people back home, many of them strangers who you will never meet, invested time and resources to provide you with this experience. Your school counselor helped you complete your application and wrote you a nice letter of recommendation. Your school will spend a lot of time and creativity making sure your credits transfer home. Your parents would rather have you at home, but in their desire to provide you with the experience of a lifetime they've given up one of the few precious remaining years they have with you before you leave home for good. Your sponsoring Rotary club is putting their reputation on the line by allowing you to be their representative to their peers in a foreign country. Demonstrate to the world that they made the right choice.

Sure, nothing is perfect. Some host families are insane, just like your neighbors or your cousins or your own family. Sisters and brothers can be mean. Teachers can be rude. It's hard to make friends. But think about it: how often did you go out of your way to make new friends with a stranger who you could barely communicate with because of the language barrier and who, after you've invested your precious time in the friendship, will be leaving relatively soon, anyway? It's not usually personal because most of us have enough close friends and aren't interested in cultivating new temporary relationships.

Sometimes the situation is truly bad. It's impossible to work things out with unreasonable people. Sometimes it's necessary to move families or schools or even cities. But sometimes you have to suck it up, smile, and don't let the bastards get you down. Maybe you're right and they are whack jobs. Too bad (as long as you are not in danger, of course). They think you're not trying hard enough to learn the language? Prove them wrong and quit speaking English in their presence no matter how hard that is. Maybe at home you can storm off to your room, slam the door, and refuse to come out for hours, but don't even think about pulling that bratty, immature crap on your host family. Yes, no matter what ridiculous thing your host parent is saying to you. Some people are unreasonable and there is nothing to be gained by arguing. Be the bigger person, smile, listen, then figure out a way to make the best of the situation. We've all done the equivalent of a frustrated-toddler temper tantrum, but that doesn't mean it's ever a valid response. Not every exchange student hits the exchange-student jackpot of a loving, stable host family, great new friends, and fabulous shopping trips to Milan. Go ahead and complain and vent (to the appropriate people). Get it out of your system. I'm a big fan of self-pity parties - feel intensely sorry for yourself for a short time, but then move on. But remember, it's not just your year. You're sharing it with lots of people who deserve to see a positive return on their investment.

Vicariousness (yep, I looked it up)

When we know someone who is temporarily living in another country, we tend to think that every day must be fun and exciting for that person. Many exchange students have kept journals, blogs now, and written home, but most of those accounts hit on only the highlights because they are written so infrequently. A student will start out with good intentions, and then the next entry is, "Gosh, it's been two months since I've written and so much has happened!" When you're trying to cram two months into 300 words, you tend to leave out the ordinary bits.

From some things I've read, it sounds like this can be a problem for exchange students because we have unreasonable expectations for their sojourns. Many people still think that, because a phone call originates from another continent, it must be important. So, when the kid calls just for idle chatter and has no exciting stories to tell, the people at home wonder what's wrong. What do you mean you're bored? You're in Geneva and I'm in North Dakota; don't talk to me about bored. Maybe at that moment the kid is bored because he's been studying for a history test tomorrow. It's not a big deal and it's not indicative of his entire stay; it's just a snapshot of one moment. These kids can't be skiing in the alps all the time. Sometimes kids will call just because it's nice to hear a familiar voice for no particular reason, but the parents will assume that something else must be going on because it is, after all, a very long distance phone call. But sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

Another problem is when the student is not having the experience we would if only we'd been given the chance. You're in Spain and you're not taking Flamenco lessons? I've always wanted to take Flamenco lessons. How can you not want to take Flamenco lessons? If you've always wanted to take Flamenco lessons, quit whining about it, do it, and leave your child alone. And, no: there has been no discussion of dance lessons, Flamenco or otherwise, between us.

How could they not?

I was talking to someone today who gets the exchange thing, and there are not a lot of those people around here. When I mentioned that more people than not ask how Chloe could be gone for a year but, more surprisingly, why we would allow her to be gone for a whole year, she was surprised. She didn't understand how someone could be so hung up on the being gone part that they would deny their child this opportunity. Don't they understand what the student will gain? That the residual effects of her experiences will unfold for the rest of her life? Don't they realize that living in another country makes the world smaller, and that it's hard to hate a country when you've been neighbors with a number of pleasant people who live there? That if the student is passionate enough to do the work necessary to make the exchange happen, she's ready to go? Many people don't allow themselves to think past the "I'd miss her too much" stage. That said, the day Chloe left will forever be a day that I'd rather not remember.

The most amusing referrers today: "pot leaves" "washing machine". On Chloe's: rolling papers smoking españa. Sort of makes one ponder the content of one's posts. Yes, I've discovered yet another way to waste time.

Four months

Another anniversary. Four months and the cats, in a display of obtuse optimism, still sit outside of Chloe's bedroom door as if it will open any moment and they will once again be welcomed inside. There have been a couple of times when I've almost joined them there on the floor, staring expectantly up at the closed door, waiting for Chloe to wake up and walk out

Instead, we talk on the phone and e-mail. It's hard to imagine that just a few years ago this instant communication would have been too expensive and often impossible. I can't begin to comprehend how the lack of communication would change the exchange experience because we take immediate gratification for granted.

Today we talked about how some people dismiss other ideas or foreign practices as a defensive measure. If I agree that your way of doing something, while different than mine, is no less valid, then I have to admit that there is a big world out there and it's not all scary just because it's different than what I know. Maybe what I know to be true can be challenged; maybe I don't know as much as I think I do. And just maybe my child might come home with ideas different than what she left home with. As parents, we're used to having the benefit of experience that our kids haven't lived long enough to develop yet. Suddenly our kids, far outside of our reach, are having major life-effecting experiences that we'll never be a part of.

We Americans send our kids away to gain a broader understanding of the world, to discover that most cultural differences aren't right or wrong, they just are. Parents in other countries often send their kids here primarily to improve their English-language skills and would prefer that their kids not come home with American baggage like questioning authority or social tolerance or wearing flannel pajama pants to school. Or sitting in front of the TV balancing a can of Duff beer on our hops-and-Twinkie-filled guts (Homer Simpson is a useful shortcut for many people in other countries - he is what is wrong with America. I'm guessing that some of the insightful satire is lost in the translation). Many of us host parents are happy to see that, despite what they'd been told at home, these kids have realized that the world didn't stop spinning when a fellow student questioned a teacher's position. Rather, the teacher used the student's point of view to further the discussion.

I'm seeing now that a full school year is essential to developing that kind of attitude shift. It takes three or four months for the students to get past the differences before they're able to synthesize their experiences into opinions that might differ from those of their parents. It takes that long for the students to begin to develop more self-assured autonomy. They have concrete proof that they've been away from the direct authority of their parents and have not only survived, but are often thriving. That they can flourish without our daily, hands-on influence is not something we parents are eager for our minor children to discover.

Passport for LotR?

Chloe wrote about trying to rent movies here. When she told me the clerk said something about a passport, I told her maybe the store wanted to hold it until they got the movie back. When we get our Christmas tree we have to leave our driver’s license on a chunk of plywood sitting in the muddy parking lot in exchange for a saw, so that sounded marginally plausible even though you’d have to be nuts to leave a passport as security for a DVD. And probably to leave a driver’s license for a five-dollar saw.

The next day they went to another video store and paid 20 euros for what, Chloe didn’t know, but they didn’t charge them for the movie. I suggested that maybe they get a free movie with a membership, but she wasn’t exactly sure if they bought a membership or not, in which case they paid 20 euros for a DVD rental.

The next day I told Alicia the story and she said the video store calls their membership cards passports. I told her about the 20 euros but that Chloe wasn’t sure what that was for, and Alicia didn’t know, either, because movie rentals are about 2,49 euros. Alicia didn’t quite understand why they’d pay 20 euros when they didn’t know what it was for.

Chloe thinks Abby bought a membership, and they discovered that they pay for the movies when they bring them back. She also thinks the clerk might have said the 20 euros is returned at some point, but she’s not sure. When traveling or living in a country where you don't speak the language very well, you have to rely on the kindness of strangers until you figure things out. Not all strangers are kind, but that's part of the price of education.

Not quite so new now

There are a few pictures of Chloe, Abby, and some friends from Saturday night here. Except for the picture of the bartender, which Chloe took, they were taken by Bea, one of Chloe's friends. Gee, I don’t think Chloe looks so bad (just kidding, Jan – she thought that was very funny). The smoke really hurts Chloe’s eyes and the bright flash doesn’t help. She clearly doesn’t have a future as a European lounge singer.

There is a group of students from an American school in Belgium on a one-week exchange to San Cernin (which you can read about in the same post as above). She can’t quite explain it, but their visit has completely changed Chloe’s outlook. I’ve since heard from someone with lots of experience hosting exchange students that that is a common occurrence: when a new batch of students arrives, the other exchange students have something to measure their progress against. Usually, they can’t believe that they were ever so completely foreign.