My Life with a Chinese Exchange Student

I’ve thought alot about this fiasco that was our International house guest for almost a year; not in an obsessive sort of manner, but an introspective look at the whole experience.

The first thing most people have asked me was “would you do it again?”

No.

There are two camps of people with regard to how to manage an exchange student. Some see themselves as an ambassador to our country, they welcome these students in their homes and turn them loose. The students live in their house, come and go as they please, meet up for a meal if everyone’s schedule allows for it, and pass like ships in the night. They take the agency’s philosophy that they are not responsible for the actions of their student to heart, and behave as such. I’ve heard of many cases where the host families would not actually see their students for days at a time.

I was in the other camp.

Our student was an underage child living in our home. I don’t care what it said on paper, my husband and I felt responsible for Bill. Where he was, who he was with, school, activities, basketball, staying out of the street and not getting hit by cars. Our expectations of Bill equaled that of our own children. He had the same rules they did, and was expected to let me know his plans and activities.

That wasn’t the hard part. Adding one more child to my mental list was easy.

What was difficult was having another person live in our home, but was not really part of the home/family. Bill did not want to assimilate to any American ways (which was suppose to be the point). I understood, especially in the beginning, it was probably strange for him to just join the family, plop down on the couch and hang out. Instead, he preferred to stay holed up in his room. However, he never grew out of that stage.

He didn’t like American television or movies; he complained about American food (with the exception of cheese and steak). He wasn’t interested in seeing the sights or going places. He declined our invitations to take him places. It was basketball or watching Chinese game shows on his Ipad. That grew tiresome.

He claimed  countless times that coming to America was his idea, not something he was forced to do by his parents. I was never quire sure that I believed that, especially the first semester when he was doing so poorly in school. He did rally after several stern lectures from his teachers, and our continued stories about how important it was to put school work first.

He ended up with decent grades, a basketball team club and places to play basketball at his disposal. While he never grew out of rudely demanding things and treating us as if we were his servants, he did get a lot out of his time with us. The feedback from his Chinese  agent was quite positive. She was pleased that Bill had starting speaking “less rudely” to her, and Bill himself  told us that while he was back in China at Christmas, his parents remarked on his demeanor and found him to be more mature. As with anything, his improved maturity was relative.

Teaching Bill rules and expectations, and frankly, how to behave within a family, and society, is something that he will take with him for the rest of his life. Living with us for nine months, of course, will not have fundamental changes in who he is, but even the teachers at this school noticed a gradual positive improvement in his behavior. The largest lesson he learned from us was that his bad behavior had consequences.

My expectation of this experience was not met.

I envisioned welcoming a Chinese person into our home, and into our lives. I was hoping he would want to really get to know us, and let us know him. I imagined showing him our traditions and sharing experiences with him as he discovered our city. I imagined him getting to know our kids, and all of them becoming friends. Maybe even keeping in touch and visiting him over the years, and welcoming him back as he got older.

None of this took place.

To Bill, we were a pit stop. A hotel. Someplace to sleep and do laundry and drive him to school. The few times we insisted he accompany us on fun outings, or join us for family gatherings, he spent most of his time playing in his Ipad.

From what I gathered from other host families, this type of behavior was not uncommon. People who have hosted multiple years are well aware of this attitude and just accepted it.

For the risk that host families take (ie. the agency cannot be held responsible for damage to the host family property or home, or damage or injury to the family members if the student snaps and decides to harm someone or something), I did not feel it was worth it, especially on the note that our student left us. If he decided to destroy our home out of spite, he had the keys to  the house, and the time alone when we were out to do so……that was just one more thing to worry about.

I thought maybe I would have issues having a stranger in our house, but physically having him around wasn’t a problem. He was no messier than any of my own kids, so that part didn’t bother me.

I knew we made the right decision in asking him to leave because almost immediately when he left, we all seemed to let out a deep breath and relax.

This is just one story. Our experience. I know many people have rewarding experiences hosting exchange students. I’ve heard of international students staying in touch with their host families 20 years down the road. Unfortunately, that was not to happen with Bill.

Now when we think back on this endeavor, all I can say is, “What were we thinking?”

I often get the inquiry, ” How does this process work? how did you get involved with hosting a Chinese student for an entire school year?”…..

Keep in mind, my view of this entire process is quite dim, and not because of our less than stellar experience with Bill. As an involved parent, I can’t help but negatively judge the agency, the process and the lack of involvement with these students.

This is how it worked for us. Of course, there are hundreds of stories and agencies and experiences. Ours is just one.

It all started with an ad in the paper…..

In a nutshell, the International family contacts a Chinese agent in America…… the agent connects with the various American organizations that exist in the US for this purpose….. and the American organization advertises for families to host the student. In terms of compensation, it’s like a weird ponzi scheme. The wealthy family pays the agent an undisclosed, large amount of money. The agent pays the organization a certain amount per month, and the organization pays the host family less than 50% of that they receive, and it is quite minimal. Basically, the people hosting, feeding, driving around, keeping the students alive are at the bottom of the food chain. We did not, nor should anyone, host an exchange student for the purpose of making money, however, to see the agency receiving twice the amount of the host families seemed a bit ludicrous, considering the little amount of contact they had with their students.

When I answered the ad to express our interest in hosting a Chinese student, I reviewed the website. It seemed quite professional, informative, legitimate. The application asked the right questions, and we had to agree to a background check.  My husband and I had both been screened in the past to be Scout leaders, so I knew this was a standard procedure when dealing with children, and also knew we would pass with flying colors.  They asked for photos of our home, which I provided (after a serious cleaning!).

Due to the fact our first Chinese girl student fell through and we didn’t think we were getting a student, the background check was never performed. When they called and asked if we would take Bill, and we agreed, it still had not been completed. In fact, Bill was already in our home before we were approved.

No one ever actually looked at our house, or paid us a visit. The photos we provided could have been taken anywhere and they would have never known the difference. I heard through various other host families that deception is common, which causes the students to move around from home to home when they are first placed with new families.

We were required to answer a monthly survey about what was going on with our student, which I did with painful honesty, and provide one photo per month. I detailed the good, as well as the bad, but no one responded until the last month, and that was to a trivial laundry issue. In their defense, I did have several phone conversations and emails regarding Bill’s poor behavior and strange idiosyncrasies, so they were well award of the difficulties we were experiencing with him.

Another concept that was hard to grasp was the fact that many of these Chinese students are sent to America with health issues, and the host families are not informed of their needs.

Bill has behavioral/emotional issues that the Chinese agent finally acknowledged, but said his father did not recognize those issues, and in fact, dismissed the idea that his son may have difficulties assimilating with people.

We should have been informed of this issues before the decision was made that he be placed in our care. He could not be left alone in our house, we worried he will start a fire or leave the doors open. We literally had to teach him how to ride a bike and how to cross the street. I have seen him walk directly in front of cars with absolutely no concern for his own safely. He did not want to participate in anything unless it is basketball, and if you questioned any of his beliefs, he became upset.

He viewed the correction of his behavior as unkindness because he could not conceive of the concept of discipline.  His behavior was more in line with that of an 8 year old child, not a sixteen year old in high school that we erroneously believed would be coming to live with us.  This is the type of information that would have been good to know before we agreed to become a host family.

Bill also wore extremely thick glasses, and told me he was having trouble seeing. The Agent said he could wait until he went back to China in the summer for a check up. After he complained to me a few times, I finally took him to Four Eyes and they confirmed that his prescription was, in fact, too weak for him.  The lack of interest over Bill’s well being was shocking.  Another boy was sent here with braces and no arrangement were make for him to see an orthodontist, and a girl we met had an eating disorder and was taking Chinese powders for depression, but no arrangements for medical supervision were made. These were just a few cases that I personally knew. I’m sure there had to be hundreds more, considering how many students come to America to study.

In America, our school systems are trained to help recognize students that may have emotional or behavioral problems. China does not have this sort of system. These, and all types of medical problems should be vetted and the agencies made aware of each student’s requirements, not only for the good of the student, but the host families should know ahead of time what they are signing up for, and be able to make an informed decision if someone with special needs would be a good fit for their family. In our situation, they needed a place for Bill, we were not told about his difficulties, they later said they themselves were not aware of his behavioral problems, and they were just glad to have found a bed for him. Knowing the full backgrounds of each student should be the first thing they ask when accepting International students to their programs, so that information can be passed on to the hosts families and to the schools.

Another baffling concept was transportation.  As per the Student Handbook, students that choose to participate in any sort of activities are after school/weekends should just Uber about town, unless arrangements are made in advance with the agency for additional compensation. Now, I think Uber is great. It is a financially reasonable alternative to cabs, and extremely easy to obtain. My thoughts on that, again, are safety issues. Most of these kids are young. They are unfamiliar with the geographic area, and are just expected to jump into cars with strangers. While Bill did Uber quite a bit, I usually had him text me when he arrived somewhere.

Bill arrived in America without a cell phone, and the agency had no idea. I allowed him to use my cell phone number with Uber for the first 4 months of this stay. He texted with his Ipad, but could not receive or place calls. The agency insisted he return from Christmas break in China with a phone when I brought it to their attention. They did admit it was  unsafe for any student not to have a phone.

Another slip through the cracks.

We were told that if our student went out and didn’t return, of if something happened to him (ie, getting in an accident while riding his bike on a busy street) that we would not be held responsible. How could adults in charge of a minor living in their home NOT be responsible? We took our responsibility of having Bill in our home very seriously. He had the same rules and expectations of our own children. We knew where he was, he had specific guidelines and curfews and was expected to follow those rules.

When Bill left our home, I contacted the school to let them know we were not longer the responsible “parents” for him. They had no idea he had left out home, and seemed very irritated that the agency had not contacted them immediately.

I know there are many organizations that exist to facilitate students from all over the work coming to America for school. And I have heard a lot of positive stories about other people’s experiences. Unfortunately, that was not the case with us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So this experiment that was Bill has abruptly ended.

I can’t say that I’m sorry he is no longer in our home. I absolutely know that my husband is glad he’s gone, and while my daughter is very kind, I don’t think even she realized what a toll it was having him around.  The atmosphere in our home last night was lighter. Dinner was easy and did not include any forced conversation or strange bouts of listening to Bill slurp his food. Our daughter actually lingered at the table, much more chatty than she’d been in a while. She even suggested we watch TV, as a family, just us….

We went to bed without the sounds of doors slamming just when we were drifting off to sleep, and this morning, each of us went about our business of getting ready for the day. No one complained about the food, or touched all the food without washing their hands, no one had to be roused out of bed, no one sat in the backseat of my car and pretended I was their chauffeur and no one will be coming home tonight with a bad attitude and bad manners.

I’d say it’s a good day.

We had been fully prepared to have Bill stay with us until he finished the school year. June 4th. June 4th. June 4th.  That had been my mantra. Finals conclude June 2nd, a day to relax and pack, and then get on plane June 4th and head back to China. Yipee! As much as I would have loved to have asked him to leave much earlier, I know that he’d been shipped around since he was little. His parents put him in an International Boarding school since the age of 6, home only on weekends. Much of his bad behavior could be accounted for the fact that he had never actually lived a family life, with rules and consequences. I sincerely did not want to be another person that he would view as someone that threw him away.

That was the plan. We would stick it out until the end of school. It seemed like a natural ending place. The agency had already informed him he would not be returning to us for the next school year. Many people have asked how this program works, which is an entire subject matter for the next post!

So we were continuing along, status quo, until the other night.

Bill had been at a friend’s house for the day. He wasn’t sure when he was coming home, and showed up at 5pm, heading directly to his room to do something…… I can only assume it was to watch Chinese game shows, a favorite past time of his.

I informed both he and my daughter that dinner was at 6pm. I was tired, and really wanted the weekend to be over. I figured make dinner, eat, tidy up the kitchen and relax……

However, Bill decided otherwise.

I don’t want to eat dinner at 6. I want to eat at 7:30.

Ok, Bill, dinner is served at 6pm. If you don’t want to eat then, you can have left overs, or make a sandwich, yogurt, apple.

I don’t see why it matters. I want a hot dinner.

Then be at the table at 6pm. This isn’t a restaurant.

FYI….. according to the agency “rule book” the norm for dinner is, you give the student a time, and then eat. If they miss, then they can “grab & go”…… exactly what I told him. Leftovers, sandwiches, fruit, something quick and easy.

Bill did not join us for dinner, instead came out of his room at 7:30 and proceeded to eat the left overs, meats, cheese, fruit. A lot.  I only point out how much he ate because of what happened later that evening.

When he finished, he informed us he was taking another shower. Bill now enjoys taking multiple showers for no reason other than emptying the hot water tank and feeling good. Our rule, one shower a day, unless you’ve been playing sorts and are gross and disgusting (same rule for our kids….)

Mr. X. I am taking another shower.

Bill, you did nothing all day, you took one this morning.

I like to take showers when I want. What does it matter?

Well, since you empty the hot water tank several times a day for no reason, the answer is no.

I don’t see why it matters. (starting to yell)

Bill, consider it a rule. Once a day unless you’re played sports. This isn’t a spa.

FYI, this was a conversation that had happened multiple times in the recent past.

So it’s a rule?

Yes, a house rule.

At this point, I asked Bill what sort of house rules there were at his house in China, and what the consequences there were for breaking those rules.

He couldn’t think of any, and said no one had ever told him he could not do something (except for us apparently), and that he had never faced any sort of consequence for his bad behavior. He knew the consequences for our kids included taking away their phones, grounding, more chores around the house. We had no recourse in this respect for Bill.

He left and went to his room. We sighed with relief that he was done arguing, and continued with our peaceful evening. Our daughter went up to his room an hour later to see if he wanted some ice cream. He did not.

Two hours later, my phone rings. It’s the international agent in New York.

What is going on your house?

What??? (me, extremely confused)

Bill called and said that you won’t let him take a shower, or eat dinner, and that your husband threatened him. WHAT????

An hour long conversation ensued, explaining what actually happened. The agent, who has known Bills’ rocky background and all of the difficulties we had been going through since Bill’s arrival, understood. She went on to once again tell me how difficult Bill was (as if I didn’t already know that), that Bills’ rich father in China was crazy, and we all had to do everything to keep him happy.

I explained that I felt no such obligation. Bill would follow the house rules when he was living with us, whether his father liked it or not.  Furthermore, the fact that Bill was angry at my husband and decided to conjure up lies about us exhibited extremely manipulative behavior on his part. Bill’s fathers’ money did not factor into consideration with us.

We confronted Bill, who said he never said those things. He had no response when we said his agent did not just call us out of thin air and tell us those lies.

I didn’t say those things. I did not lie. I will fix it with her. He seemed irritated and dismissive. Clearly, he had decided to throw a tantrum to lash out and hadn’t thought it through.

We told him to go to bed, while we stayed up, discussing the situation. We decided that he could no longer be in our house. If he was willing to make up a lie that he was threatened and was not being allowed eat, what could be next? A litany of much worse and extreme accusations ran through my head. That, coupled with his crazy father, and Bills’ behavioral issues, drove the nail in the coffin. He would have to leave the next day. While I did not really believe Bill would get physical, the words of the agent telling me she was afraid his crazy father and she never knew what he might do kept running through my head.

At about midnight, I woke my daughter up and made her sleep with me behind a locked door, my husband banished to the guest room. She was not happy with that turn of events.

I do admit that was bit extreme, but we all have weird, paranoid thoughts in the middle of the night. Better to be safe than sorry…… God forbid we end up front page news.

After a very silent drive to drop Bill off at school the next day, I contacted the local agency. I explained the situation, and requested he leave our home that day. Letting him know he was being asked to leave, and then staying for a few more days would only be asking for trouble. She was surprised, but after concluding our conversation, didn’t seem to resist the idea. I said I wanted a representative at our home to oversee his packing, as I didn’t want to later be accused of stealing anything of his, and I wanted to have a short sit down discussion with Bill, with an outside person present. He had lived with us for the past 9 months, and we felt it that we could not let him leave without attempting to make him understand that his actions, did in fact, have consequences.

When they arrived at our house that evening,  we sat down for a conversation. I explained that the trust that we had in him was gone. He lied about us, and we could not trust that he wouldn’t decide to lie about something even larger if something wasn’t to his liking.  He was smiling and nodding. He did look a tad crazy at that moment.

I did not lie. We have a different opinion. This was always his fall back answer when he was wrong.

Bill, making up something that is untrue is a lie. There is no opinion to be had. It is a fact that you said those things, and that you knew very well none of it was the truth.

I don’t want to talk about this. I was going to say I didn’t want to live here anymore soon. Yea, right.

I understood that he had lashed out because he was angry, and I would have felt bad, since it was a kid saying this, except for his snotty attitude, and the fact that he has always acted as though we were his servants. I honestly don’t think it ever occurred to him before this day that we could actually ask him to leave our house.

My husband concluded with a brief lesson on how his actions and bad behavior had  repercussions, and that having to leave our house was a lesson we hoped he would learn from in his future. His father would not be able to buy his way out of everything in Bills’ life.

The representative expressed his gratitude at our way of handling of the situation, and while Bill packed, regaled us with stories of some host families finally having enough of bad student behavior, and just throwing the kids’ stuff outside on the lawn, then calling to tell them to pick up the kid and get them off their property!

Bill did not seem troubled to be leaving. I seriously doubt that he realized then just how good he had to with us. He had a relatively small amount of chores to do, his laundry and keep his junk from spilling out of his room. His close proximity to his school.  The almost nonexistent commute. The close parks and gyms that were within a short Uber drive, or just a bike ride away. The unlimited amounts of food he consumed (I never had an issue with the amount he ate, just he rude way he did it!). The effort we put into getting him on a basketball team, going to his games, practices.

I wished him well, my husband helped pack up the car,  we said our good byes, and he was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I treat Bill much the same as my own kids in my expectations of his behavior. I ask very little, I don’t care that his room is a mess, as long as the mess stays in his room and doesn’t start to seep out into the hallway, I’m good.

I don’t expect any of them be late for school or activities in order to clean the kitchen or bathroom. Helping out around the house has a flexible schedule.

However, I do expect them to bring their dishes to the sink, rinse them and stack them if the dishwasher happens to be full. Bill has recently regressed on this point. He leaves dishes on the table, with food sticking and drying to the plates and bowls. He finishes and leaves. I can only assume he thinks the maid will get them.

We discussed this, again, and he said he would try and remember…. because I thought the dishwasher cleaned them…… Yes, it does, it just doesn’t crawl across the kitchen floor to collect and rinse dirty dishes…

Bill has also recently been sitting in the backseat when I drive him places when it’s just the two of us. I asked him why?

I like it here and feel comfortable here, it’s how I ride in China.

Alright…..so I may not be the maid, but apparently, I am the chauffeur.

 

I’ve lost _________________.

This has been Bill’s mantra since he arrived. We all occasionally misplace or out and out lose things. I’m on year two of trying to locate a certain bracelet that I distinctly remember taking off in the kitchen…..and then nothing. I’m still convinced it will show up someday, and I’ll be stunned when I finally remember where I actually put it. But it seems that Bill is going for a record in the category of “lost stuff”.

We had a few basketballs in our garage, and he wanted an outside ball; he purchased a new on for indoor use only when he first arrived. He promptly lost the first outside ball….somewhere. I didn’t even attempt to try and find it. It was old, we didn’t mind, he was new, he had no track record with us. He lost the second one a month later, and since he had no recollection the last place he saw it, the ball joined its friend…..somewhere.

Then there was his school jacket. They have to purchase uniform clothing at his school. He lost the fleece, and bought a new one. Which he promptly lost. He claimed he found it, but honestly, I think he just he helped himself to one from the lost and found bin at school; this one seems a bit large on him. I didn’t question its existence.

He lost his new basketball, but found it in one of the gyms he was playing in a day later. And my suggestion of writing his name on it with a Sharpie was met with a look of disdain.

He bought new ear buds to replace the ones he lost on the plane from China. They survived a week before joining the rest of his items in lost limbo.

He came to my husband and said he lost $1,000 from his room. This was a bit more serious.

I hope you’re not implying we went in your room and took your money?
This from my husband.

No, well, I guess not…. I mean, no. But it’s gone. This from Bill.

My husband told him to search his room, dig through the drawers, look in the closet, any place he may have hidden it. Bill did not mention this little development to me.

The next night before dinner, Bill was whispering to my husband, who replied, I think it’s time we involved Mrs. X.

Of course I ready knew about the alleged missing cash, but I let Bill explain the situation to me.

I listened carefully and then got up to get a paper and pen.

Bill, how much did you pay for the basketball team registration? (he gave me cash to cover his costs).  $180.

and how much did you pay for the new fleece jacket to replace the one you lost? You told me you paid cash? $90

Didn’t you recently go to Dick’s and buy another basketball, and a sports bag? $75

And when we went to visit son #2 at college, and you went, didn’t you pay cash for your hotel room? (agency rules indicate he cannot stay in the same hotel room with an adult, so if he wishes to accompany us, he must pay for his own room). $125

And you won’t let me make you lunch, so you buy your lunch at school every day. How much is your lunch? $10 a day? So that’s about 50 school days up to now?

$500.

I sighed.

Bill, how much money do you have in your wallet right now?

He produced a wrinkled wad of a few fives and a bunch of singles. About $30.

That make $1,000 Bill. There is your missing money.

He gave us that blank, open-mouthed stare he’s famous for.

I guess I need to get more money. I can use my Visa gold card for now, he informed us. Apparently he would be contacting his money source in China….Who showed up at our house 2 days later in the form of his agent, presumably with a bag for cash for Bill.

I wish I had bags of cash show up when I ran out!

He lost 2 school text books. He didn’t even bother to look for them, just ordered more.

He received a new I-Phone when he went home to China over Christmas, since he was originally sent to America without a phone.  He was not back here 3 days, when he came home from school and said he’d lost it and it must be in the house.  Son #1 was still here for Christmas break, and being the voice of reason, assured Bill that the phone could not possibly be in the house, since he walked in and said it was gone, and had texted us from school that day. He took Bill back to school to check his locker, check lost and found, check the gym. No luck.

He didn’t have “find a phone”, but I attempted to call him. No answer.

That night, during dinner, my cell phone rang. I only answered it because our daughter wasn’t home, and I always think it could be the kid that wasn’t with us at the time, desperate to get a hold of us.

It was a strange woman, wanting to know my address because she found my phone….  I asked where she was, and she informed me, Chicago. How had Bill’s phone made it to the City?

Turns out, he dropped it in the middle of our street and the Fed Ex man found it, brought it home since everything was in Chinese. When I called it, my name came up in English and they returned the call! This forced an impromptu drive to collect the phone. The man was extremely gracious, and would not accept a monetary reward. Bill informed us on the way home this was his mother’s old Iphone, because he had lost 2 other phones in China before he came to America.

Next it was his basketball, again, and a jacket left at an outdoor park. I drove him back to the park the next day and couldn’t believe there were both still sitting there! He hopped out of the car, scooped them up and returned without comment. It’s like he expects his things to be there waiting for him.

He tried out for a travel basketball team (did not make it) and left his prescription sports goggles and basketball at the church where the try outs took place, two towns away. When he realized this the next day, he said he’d Uber over there to get them after school.  I explained that the church was being used for tryouts and that chances are the items left behind would be locked up, or the coach in charge would have taken them. Can you believe it? He goes over there and returns triumph. Amazing. We can’t believe the luck of this kid…..

He’s a typical boy that clearly gets annoyed when I ask him if he has his homework when we leave for school in the morning, or if he has remembered his wallet if he’s planning on going out. Apparently his track record is not something he considers.

The other day, I picked him up from school, when he stayed after to ask a teacher for some help, and do homework until I arrived. When he was almost to the car, I just shook my head and rolled down the window.

Bill, where’s your backpack? 

He stopped and gave me a questioning look, like I’m the crazy one for asking….. Then he feels behind his shoulder blades.

I dunno… it must be in school somewhere…… and trudges back toward the school.

Maybe we should take bets on what the next missing item will be???

 

 

 

Recently Bill was invited to a birthday party for another Chinese student. Getting details out of him is always a challenge, but still….

Where and when is the party?

I dunno…..

Well, how will you get there if you don’t have details?

He taps his IPad and reports back, I have to be at his house at 8:20am on Sunday.

Hummmmmmm

Now, I knew they did not have school on Monday, so a Sunday party was reasonable. But 8:20am? I’ve thrown countless kid parties over the years, but none had ever been that weirdly specific.

My husband volunteered to drive him, so I slept in. When he returned home later, he was shaking he head in bemusement.

Apparently, while getting ready, Bill informed my husband they had to pick up Joe, another Chinese student. I had driven this kid before, but my husband didn’t know where he lived. Instead of Google Maps, Bill attempted to direct him. Of course they ended up lost. Finally, with the assistance of actual directions, they arrive at Joes.

They could see him in the front window, seeming standing around doing nothing. Bill texted him and said they were in the driveway. Joe texted that he was not ready. Bill asked when he would be ready. Joe said in a few minutes.

My husband and Bill proceed to watch Joe continue to stand in the front window, clearly not hurrying to get ready, or do anything else. They wait. And wait.

Bill finally says, Mrs. X would have gotten mad at me if I was doing that, she tells me to hurry up when she has to leave or someone is picking me up so I don’t make people wait.

My husband says, Well Bill, in this situation Joe is you, and you are Mrs. X. Don’t you think it’s rude that he’s making us wait, not even attempting to hurry up?

Bill agreed it was rude. He was actually able to put himself in someone else’s place…… Progress! It’s sinking in! Slowly………

According to the agency that places the international students, we, as hosts, are responsible for two meals a day, and a ride to school. Even getting them home is negotiable. In the handbook, it goes so far as to spell out the meals. For example, breakfast should be  “grab and go” such as a bowl of cereal, piece of fruit, yogurt, granola bar, a glass of juice, which, incidentally is how all of my kids treated the first meal of the school day. Dinner should be whatever your family is having. That’s it. Two meals and a ride. If he needs to get picked up at the airport, that’s a little extra stipend. If he needs a ride somewhere else, it should be arranged through the agency for an addition, negotiated price, otherwise he should Uber everywhere.

And that is ridiculous. Life isn’t a series of arranged pick-ups for a little bit of extra cash.

I was not that naive to think that adding a teenager to our household would be as simple as a couple of meals and a ride. But I never anticipated that our Chinese kid would be this needy, or immature….. that he would be Bill.

I don’t mind driving and picking up locally when it works out with my schedule.  I’ve spent years doing it the same way with my own children. If I’m around, sure, I can pick up you, otherwise,  find a ride or walk home. But when he wants to go 45 miles away, on the spur of the moment, Uber it is. Except Bill was sent to the USA without a cell phone…… He has an IPad and can text, but unfortunately, Uber requires a cell phone. Was it my responsibility to let him use my cell number on his Uber account? No, but I did so he could get around.  (He did come back from Christmas break with a phone).

It is also assumed that these International students will just automatically make friends, fit in and have a social life. Again, not true for Bill. It is my responsibility to try and arrange “play dates” for him? No, but I feel bad when he can’t find someone to hang out with, and will call some of the other host families to see if something can be arranged.

When he wants to stay in his room for hours on end, watching Chinese game shows on his IPad, is it my responsibility to tell him he can’t? That he has to come downstairs and watch American TV and interact with us? No, and having a sullen teenager around someplace he does want to be is no fun for anyone, so I allow it.

The manual states that if the student isn’t present for meals, you should just go ahead without him. I do think it is my responsibility to know where my student is, not only at mealtimes, but all the time. I would not allow my own kids to be gone hours on end, unclear of their location, or having no way to getting in touch with them. It’s easy, on paper, to say start eating and go on with your night, but I don’t run a restaurant. Dinner is not served all evening. While I may not like it, it is my responsibility to track him down and make sure he’s home at the appropriate times. We were also informed, when we questioned the agency, that if Bill were, God forbid, hit by car due to his inattention to street signs or traffic, we would in no way be held accountable. I realize that no one can be with any teenage child at all times, so we took it upon ourselves to quickly teach him the rules of the road. And by teach, I mean scare the crap out of him. He couldn’t/refused to see the danger of riding his bike in the street, or haphazardly walking across the street whenever the mood struck. I only hope he remembers this training when the weather warms up and he’s back to being outside.

Bill wanted so badly to play basketball, but was not allowed to play for his school due to international rules with exchange students, He tried out just to practice with them, but they declined his presence. Was it my responsibility to find and sign him for a local, club basketball team with kids his own age? No, but I did. Now he has practices and weekend games. And furthermore, is it my responsibility to manage his time? Again, no, but he needs rides and arrangements to the late evening practices, and we now find ourselves attending basketball games with the other parents to watch him. This definitely isn’t a given responsibly, but he’s a kid.  He wants someone to show up once in a while and watch him, to cheer him on, take a picture of him, just like his teammates.

None of these things are tangible responsibilities that can be written in a manual. I imagine one of my own children, at his age, living in a foreign country, with virtual strangers, and think of all of the scenarios that I would want someone there for my child. While Bill may be irritating, he, and all of these international students are people. You cannot just write a manual with basic instructions and expect success.

Maybe this method works for the majority of these students. The ones that aren’t awkward and have been afforded the social opportunities from their families to fit in. But sadly, Bill lacks a basic understanding of how the world works. His immaturity shows though in most of his actions.

I have never been a foster parent, but I image that experience is quite similar to inviting an international student to live with. You don’t know what type of child/student will be placed in your home, what sort of background he/she comes from, and what you will have to do in order for that child to have a safe and positive experience living with you.

We were given a generic handbook. It would have been nice if Bill had come with a handbook specific to him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now that the holidays are behind us, and life is once again back to somewhat normal, whatever that may be, I’m back to committing my thoughts to paper…… or at least sharing them with the digital world.

Bill went back to China for a little of over two weeks for his winter break. For such a physically diminutive person, he seems to take up quite a bit of space, both physically in our house hold, and mentally…particularly in my mind. It was a much needed reprieve. Prior to that vacation (for all of us), we American’s celebrated Thanksgiving, the kick-off to the end of the year holidays.

Our Thanksgiving festivities included out of town relatives visiting and staying with us this year. Part of being a good host is to show your guests a good time, and in Chicago, that usually means a good ‘old fashioned trip downtown. There is so much to see, and experience, and I told Bill, in no uncertain terms, he would be joining us on our pilgrimage. Bill has been living with us since August, and has yet to set foot in the city. We have planned outings, to which he has declined to attend, or has come up with last minute plans to plan basketball. My husband, who himself could live without every going into the city, has been thrilled he hasn’t had to drag an uncooperative Chinese teenage around.

I was determined to include him in at least one family outing into the City. Big mistake.

While not all Americans are as strict with their punctuality as am I, (and I’m not even German), some things, like a train schedule, wait for no one.  We had eight people getting up, showered, fed, dressed and stuffed into 2 cars to drive to the train station the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Seven of us managed to get up in a timely manner, many without a sunny disposition, but none the less, ready to go. Bill had to be woken up, cajoled out of bed, asked repeatedly to put down the Ipad games and grab a bit to eat. He did not get his leisurely, sit down hot breakfast, so he sulked in the car, and all the way on train.

It was an exceedingly crowded day with all of the other holiday travelers, and my husband told Bill to stay close and not wander off. He tends to do that……  After seeing the crowds in the city, he stuck to my husband like glue. We had a full day of sightseeing; the German Market, Macy’s Christmas windows, lunch at the famous Walnut Room, a walk down the legendary Magnificent Mile, and ended up at the Lincoln Park Zoo see to the millions of lights on display. I must say, it was a spectacular holiday tour of Chicago!

Bill spend most of the day playing games on his IPad, at least until the battery ran out, and then he wandered along with us, kicking the ground and basically ignoring everyone. They only time he showed any emotion was when we told him he could not order two entrees at lunch, or the most expensive dinner item.  He was also irritated that the waitress didn’t think to bring him warm water to drink, but instead placed a glass of ice water in front of him. The nerve of her!

I realize that the majority of people in China do not celebrate the Christmas holidays, but I would have thought that there would be some interest in our traditions. The tree, the lights, the music, the cookies…… there was none. I actually don’t think he even noticed the 7’ sparkling, decorated tree when he first walked in our living room to the finished version.

He left for 15 days.

We had all of the kids home, their friends over, the hustle and bustle getting ready for dinners and presents…. and even with all of the activity, it was relaxing to have our house back. There was no one demanding anything. No one complaining about the food or aimlessly wandering about the house.

He returned on New Years Day.

Five months to go.

 

 

 

Having an exchange student live with you, 24 hours day, for months at a time, is a big adjustment. Obviously. But I hadn’t expected it to be this difficult. After all, it’s just one more kid. I basically swapped one for another when son #2 left for college. Sadly, I could not have been more wrong…..

When you have a baby, and the doctor lays this tiny creature on your chest for the very first time after being born, the love you feel for this new person is over-whelming. And it’s because of that love that you can excuse the excessive crying, explosive poops and constant lack of sleep. And as that child grows, and becomes a willful toddler, and eventually a mouthy teenager, you have those memories of how you felt when presented with your perfect little bundle of joy to help get you through trying times, without smacking said kid.

There is no such foundation with an undisciplined, willful Chinese exchange student.

Different families have different values, and each family attempts to raise their children to exemplify their personal, core values. While no kid is perfect and will always do exactly what you want, when you’re drumming into their heads specific expectations year after year, some of it eventually sinks in.

When you get a teenager, from another country, from another family, that is extremely wealthy and have never bothered teaching that kid the little things, like taking care of himself,  it’s a while different story.

Think about the sleepover your child had with some of his/her friends. You know the children, have presumably interacted with them, and possibly their families before. You may like them, think they’re funny or sweet or interesting. But then you invite them to your home for a solid 24 hours. It’s then you start to see how different they really may be. Little quirks that you were never aware of. Behavior patterns that didn’t show up in a two-hour play date. That’s what hosting an exchange student is like. The realization that someone who has a very different life philosophy is now living with you. But for a sleep-over that lasts nine months.

I know I can’t change his core values. I know I can’t make him agree that America is great and putting the toilet seat down all of the time and eating with your mouth closed is the way of the world. But what I can change, is how he conducts himself in my home.

It’s been three months that he has been with us, and there are improvements. Slight.

He texted me at work, Pick up my friend Tom to play basketball.

My blood boils when he dictates orders to me, especially via text when I’m not in person to call him on it…… I decided to ignore that message, and about 30 seconds later, I get the follow-up text. Please. HA! It’s slowing sinking in.

His agent recently paid a visit to our home, to have a frank discussion with my husband and I, and Bill sat it on the meeting. I was very honest about his behavior, and our no-nonsense approach to correcting it. She, in front of Bill, thanked and congratulated us on our parenting techniques. She noticed a difference in Bill in just the six weeks since she has visited him.

I see that he speaks differently to me, that he doesn’t just make demands. She said in China, he was treated as a “little prince”. I could have called that one.

I asked Bill to tell her what I always say to him. He mumbled, please don’t bark out orders to me. Apparently I have a “catch phrase”, and he’s catching on!

Many people have asked me why I don’t send him back. Believe me, I’ve thought about it. I don’t think my daughter would miss him, and if I’m brutally honest, I would not miss him either.

But slowly, I know we are having a positive effect on this kid. I feel bad that he was sent off to boarding school at the age of 6, coming home only on weekends. While he does communicate with his family, it’s like he has not been raised. He drifts through life without purpose, and has zero social skills.

I went to the parent teacher conference with him because he was failing math, and his teachers say he’s scattered and disorganized. Turns out he’s playing games on his iPad during math, and hiding out in the bathrooms for 30 minutes at a time. No one has ever held him accountable for his behavior, or given him any sort of responsibility for anything. I can’t make him do well in school, but I can use my own kids as examples of what was expected of them, and he sees that they are doing well.

My husband routinely assigns him chores and tells him if you’re going to live here, you will help and be part of the family.  He does those chores, sometimes grudgingly, honestly, like a teenager. The recent leaf raking incident was hilarious. He was assigned the front lawn to rake the leaves. He was shown how, given a rake and a lawn bag, and set to work on a beautiful, sunny day.  He appeared in the house ten minutes later, saying he was finished. My husband, who was working in the backyard, inspected and could still not see the grass. Bill was bored and tired. My husband told him he wasn’t done, keep working.

Bill stood outside and stared at the rake. He pushed a few leaves around with his foot. He came in and got gloves. He asked when he could be done. He picked up a few handfuls. He found my husband again, and said he was done. He clearly wasn’t. This was the type of behavior our boys exhibited when they were four. Bill is almost 16. My husband told him he wasn’t finished until all the leaves were raked, and don’t come in until then.

Finally, he did  it. He filled several bags, and even dragged them to the side of the house. He was praised for completing his chore, and doing it well. He seemed proud of himself.

He asked to allowed to push the lawnmower, which my husband let him. Bill insisted on having his picture taken.

These are the kinds of life lessons he has never known.

I feel bad for him.

If we can make it to June, the end of the school year, maybe when he leaves us, he will have some sort of positive foundation for the rest of his life. If he learns anything from us, I hope it’s that he can be self-sufficient and that taking responsibility for yourself is a good thing, and that manners go a long way to getting people to like you…….

It’s only six more months……..

 

 

 

 

 

Game seven of the World Series was on the other night. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I am not a “sports person”. I don’t follow any teams (except the ones my kid plays on). I’m not a fan, a follower or an interested party.

But even I recognize the significance of the Cubs being in the World Series, and game seven at that. This was a historical event for the city of Chicago.

One the goals that families in this exchange program are encouraged to strive for is to give students American opportunities. Millions of people can’t be wrong, so we tuned into the game, ready to watch history in the making, and share that experience with Bill.

We explained this to him, who I have mentioned, is an obsessive basketball person, so he likes sports.  He said he’d like to watch with us.

However, he got side tracked.

He had purchased a small bunch of bok choy that day, which he wanted to eat for breakfast the next morning. After watching the game for three minutes, he decided that was the moment he needed to start worrying about his bok choy preparation.

Should he wash it? Maybe it should be soaked? Did he chop it, or just cut it into pieces?  If he cut it, should he throw the ends away, and if so, exactly how many inches of the ends should be tossed, and how long should each piece be? He involved my husband in this conversation. Apparently my terse suggestion to just wash off the dirt and throw it in a bag was not helpful.

He decided to soak it in a large bowl.  After pondering the contents of said bowl for several minutes, he then he excused himself to go upstairs and call him family.

Thirty minutes later, he came back downstairs to say that after consulting with his family in China about the bok choy, soaking it wasn’t the proper way to handle it. He needed to dry each piece individually, and arrange them carefully, standing up in the bowl.

He spent another ten minutes working on the bok choy. By then, he was tired and went to his room to rest. He had lost interest in the World Series.

No one in the history of humanity has ever carried on such an in-depth conversation and analysis of bok choy.   Ever.

ps. The Cubs won.

 

From a very young age, we teach our children to make choices and decisions. When they are little, it’s do you want to wear the blue shoes or the black ones? Do you want to wear these leggings today or this skirt? When kids are given choices, when they actually think about what they might want, and we respect those choices, we are empowering them. Of course, mothers learn early on to only present choices they are comfortable with. When you ask open-ended questions, such as what do you want to wear to pre-school today? you quickly find out why you should only present options that are socially acceptable.

……….Or else you end up with a three-year old preschooler leaving the house in September, wearing a University of Kentucky long sleeve blue t-shirt paired with a red velvet vest left over from Christmas past that once belonged to his brother, several sizes too small. That was son #2. And he thought he looked swell.

Giving children these little victories as they grow helps them to become strong, decisive adults. And I’m not saying that when our kids reach the ripe old age of 15 (Bill’ age) they automatically are ready to be thrown into adulthood and have all the answers. As a mom of three, I know for a fact that isn’t the case. But hopefully, we have given them a strong foundation to ask questions, make decisions and reach conclusions.

We’ve found that could not be more opposite with Bill.

This may be a cultural thing, but when asked a direct question about most things, he is unable to answer.

We have established that he likes ice cream, a lot, even though his parents don’t want him eating cold things (the stomach cancer debate). If ice cream is presented as an option, he digs right in. But, if you ask him, would you like to go get some ice cream with us, he cannot answer. He mumbles, and shakes his head and refuses to look at us.

I have found this behavior to also be true when asking what he would like to do on the weekend, would he like to take the dog for a walk, what are the activities he does for fun back in China or what does he think of American politics.

It’s maddening.

I know he has an opinion, and we have constantly explained that there is not a right or wrong answer to any of these inquires. He was raised in an environment that does not promote free thinking or encourage opinions, and he seems unwilling to change.  He came to America to enjoy our way of life and get an American education, but he seems to need more encouragement in the “what are your thoughts on (fill in any subject) area” …… We would like to think we are chipping away at that little nugget.

I asked him what he wanted to do with his life after college and he said my parents haven’t told me what I want to do yet. Wow. I remember my daughter stating, quite emphatically when she was little, she wanted to be a cashier at Walmart. And my family has always chuckled, remembering that my brother wanted to be a trapeze artist when he was young. American toddlers have thoughts too.

But here’s the weird paradox.  He won’t answer a direct question with an opinion, but he has absolutely no trouble barking out demands. I want scrambled egg. I want you to drive me to basketball. I want warm water. It’s clear he is use to speaking to someone about his immediate needs being met the moment he desires something, possibly a housekeeper or nanny, but as I have been forced to point out to him on many occasions, I AM NOT YOUR SERVANT. Please stop barking out orders at me.

I’ve also witnessed this demanding behavior with his teachers. Anytime he emails a teacher or counselor, he has to cc me on the note. I see when he tells his math teacher, I did not turn in my homework, but you need to give me another sheet because you know I need more points, or I was too tired to finish reading last night and you gave me a low grade on the quiz, but now I will read it and you give me a higher grade.

These kinds of thing he can say – almost anything that requires an opinion, he can not.

We have been working with him, particularly my husband, about American ways. Freedom of speech. How everyone has the right to an opinion, and just because you don’t always share that opinion, it’s ok. You can still be friends, neighbors, relatives. My husband and I certainly don’t agree on a lot of things, and Bill has witnessed many of those disagreements. While I usually think I’m right, he can see that we can agree or disagree, then move on and still be friends. He seems baffled by this concept.

He doesn’t ask too many questions about American ways, but we do take every opportunity to try to give him the chance to voice this thoughts. I can’t very well give him options on his wardrobe, but we’re hoping he follows our lead and can start to realize there is a whole world out there for him to explore and question, and that whatever his opinion is, it certainly is fine to express.

 

 

 

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My opinion of good hygiene and my exchange students do not sync.

I think you should use soap when you wash your hands and take a shower.  He does not.

I think you should use a Kleenex to blow your nose. He had NEVER — USED ONE BEFORE! I quizzed him about runny noses in China, thinking perhaps they still used handkerchiefs, but no, he’s says not.  According to Bill, speaking on behalf of one billion Chinese citizens, No one uses anything like that. Wow.

The lack of Kleenex knowledge floored me. He comes from a wealthy family, is used to living in the city, and has been in America before. Yet he was perfectly fine with using his hand to wipe his nose like a toddler. In fact, he informed me he has never, in his life, blown his nose….. How is that even possible?

My husband was called upon yet again to explain and demonstrate how bodily functions are taken care of in America.

We noticed that he never smelled very “fresh”, even after bathing. I had an uncomfortable conversation about hygiene one day.

Bill, do you like the shampoo and soap I put in the shower for you?

Ahhhh, yea, it’s ok. I use a little from the tall bottle on my hair.

What about the soap?

Ahhhh, what is soap?

Turns out, he didn’t think he needed it. When I said he definitely did, he informed us he had his own, and didn’t want to share a bar with my daughter. Ok, so now I know  the soap in their shower had never been touched by both people who utilize that bathroom. My daughter would never touch something so basic as a plain bar of soap – she lavishes herself with Lush and Bath & Body Works products by the gallon. Fine. I put a second new, unused bar, in a little travel container for his own personal use, in the shower.  I’ve yet to be convinced the bar is getting any smaller.

This would be the Chinese soap he brought with him. Baby wash. He is a teenager – sweaty, smelly, oily. Seriously. Baby wash.

Hand-washing has become an other point of contention. Turning on the water and getting your fingers wet is not washing your hands. I insisted he use soap, EVERY TIME.  We later discovered he would wash his hands, and then use the toilet. According to him, problem solved…..

Another cleanliness discrepancy is when to bath. Bill thought when he played basketball, came home sweaty and that sweat dried, he was clean.  I did not. He has separate basketballs for indoor and outdoor. He can’t possibly use the indoor ball on the courts outside, and, in fact, keeps it in a grocery bag so it stays clean, yet thinks nothing of sitting his sweaty self on my furniture.

Ok, that may not be a cultural thing. I remember my son getting into the car after flag football and saying the same thing, he was dry now, so he was magically clean.  However, he was 8.  And ps, I made him go directly to the shower, after stripping off the disgusting, sweaty football clothes in the garage.  Same rules apply to all the kids in the house.

Bill doesn’t seem unwilling, just bewildered at our silly American ways. Why should it matter if I wipe my nose on my hand? Why do you care if I don’t wash my hands and then touch food in the kitchen?

He also doesn’t believe in germ theory. I had a small cold recently and he was concerned that my insides and conscience were out of sync.  The idea that coughing and sneezing can spread to other people isn’t something he can conceive.

We will all be getting flu shots this year.

 

 

 

We all enjoy eating. Everyone has their favorite things, whether it’s freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, a homemade pasta dish or Grandmothers’ pickled cucumbers.  Food can remind us of happy times, bring back cherished memories or just make us feel wonderful as we happily munch away. I understand that. I’m like that. Some things are just too hard to resist.

But Bill is obsessed with food. What are we having? How am I preparing it? Why are we having that? Why do you eat leftovers? Is that food still good or will I get sick? Why do you freeze food? Why don’t you shop every day? Why aren’t all of our meals hot? Why do you use a grill? Why don’t you fry all of the food?  He has a list of rules for food and eating.  It’s exhausting.

He will only eat fruit a few times a week because every day would be too much.  Too much what? vitamins??? He prefers lettuce.

No snacks. Not even after school when he feels woozy, light-headed and hungry. I set a new precedent the other day when I informed him, no snack, no basketball. That’s all I need is for him to faint at a park somewhere. He ate a half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and guess what?  He felt better! He’s slowly amending that rule. Yesterday he ate 7 whole tortilla chips with melted cheese. He looked longingly at the rest of the chips on the plate, but insisted he was full. I gave the leftovers to the dog. It’s a slow process.

He told me his family back in China are vegetarians. His grandmother shops for vegetables everyday and that’s what they eat. For every meal.  And Bill is not a vegetarian. It’s no wonder he tried to get me to serve steak everyday when he first arrived.

I have large teenage boys. It’s certainly not the quantity of the food being eaten that is an issue. We are used to groceries being systemically destroyed as they are unloaded from the car. He’s a skinny kid, and can really pack it away. I’m use to that.  What I am not used to is the quantity of discussion, complaints and analysis of every morsel of food.

I thought this might be a cultural phenomenon. Perhaps this is what goes on everyday in China with regard to food…..  But once again, reaching out to the other international host families, I have learned this is yet another “Bill” thing…..

Now, we do not serve gourmet, five-course, fancy meals every night.  With work, school, activities, there just isn’t time. What we do have are good, filling dinners, ie, meat, veggies, a side. There is always plenty, it’s tasty and no one every goes hungry. And yet the complaints are seemingly endless……

The most baffling objection appeared early in our new living arrangement.

Chinese people don’t eat rice until it is fried with vegetables.

I may not be a Chinese cultural expert, but I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that millions of Chinese people eat, and supposedly enjoy, rice.  When I said I was making rice to go with dinner, he said that was wrong. It had to be fried with vegetables. He wouldn’t eat it. Just do it his way. I patiently explained that I don’t eat many carbs, and therefore did not want it mixed with the veggies, that he could mix it himself during dinner.  He just shook his head, and said no.

After letting him know, with a little less patience, that there was always PB&J or lunch meat and an apple if he didn’t want to eat what was being served for dinner, he stopped. And then proceeded to eat THREE servings of rice that night.

Bill also does not eat cold foods, or drink cold beverages. This is due to the fact that cold drinks produce stomach ailments, and make you very sick. I wasn’t aware of that little tidbit. (This rule apparently does not include ice cream, now that he has discovered how good it is).

He warms his water. He warms his cold cereal, and then complains that it’s mushy. I’ve tried to show him how to just heat the milk, but that’s now how I want to do it.

The other day he heated up orange juice, and then said it tasted funny. Really????

Another difference, and I do chalk this up as a cultural one, is his need to have leisurely meals. Wouldn’t we all like that? He prefers to stroll through the kitchen, pursuing the cupboards and fridge. He likes to have warmed mike and oatmeal, maybe an egg, some cheese (he makes an exception with the cold for that), a toasted waffle. This would be fine if he was out of bed earlier, but he refuses to get up with his alarm. I have to rouse him out of bed, and we both need to be out of the house by 7:30am.  His morning eating ritual is then hurried and unsatisfying to him, and irritating to me.

The other morning he decided to fry iceberg lettuce with garlic at 7:15am because he felt the need for more vitamins.  That was not a good morning for any of us.

Bill buys his lunch at school every day, and when I offered to make his lunch when I made my daughters and husbands, he said yes. Turkey sandwich, pretzels, an apple.  He did not like it. He told my husband the lunch was no good! So he’s back to buying it. It was probably too cold for him.

We have taken him out to several Chinese restaurants, and one Thai establishment. We’ve had more Asian food recently than we have for the past year.  And yet….. It’s not like this in China. That’s not what we eat in China. They don’t serve it like this in China.

Guess what??? We’re NOT IN CHINA…….

and then he proceeds to eat like a horse.

 

 

 

Doing laundry is something Bill, and the kids in the exchange program are required to do. It is one of the very few “regular chores” that we ask of Bill.  Since we would be taking Bill to visit son #2 at college, the plan for the Thursday before was:

I had an event at work and would not be home until 7pm, so Bill was to ride his bike home from school, do his laundry to get ready for the weekend, and then go play basketball until dinner.

Instead, Bill decided to ride his bike to the rec center directly after school, and then proceed to text my husband, who was at work, and ask him to do his laundry.

Seriously. I am at a loss for words.

My husband responded with sarcasm….. Unfortunately, sarcastic comments get lost in texts and translations……..

He took dirty clothes with him for the weekend.

I’m convinced most kids are assigned some sort of responsibility within each family, no matter what country they are from.  It may range from emptying the trash in the kitchen, to mowing the lawn or folding a load of laundry. We teach our children to do things for themselves, so gradually, they become ready to fly the nest, and not starve or run around like wild, jungle people. I do admit, it takes some kids longer to learn how to live like a civilized human beings….. examples being fraternity houses and some college apartments.

We were told as part of this program, the kids are required to be part of the household. They should be assigned chores by the host families as they see fit, such as doing their own laundry and keeping their room clean. Following that criteria, I made a short list of expectations for Bill to follow. I did not honestly care if he made his bed or kept clothes off the floor of his room. I have 3 kids, and very realistic expectations of bedroom neatness. In fact, it took two days of picking up clothes and junk just to see the floor of #2 son’s room after he left for college.

After doing your own laundry, our short list of non-negotiable rules were in fact, pretty short.

Always lock the house when you leave

Always carry your key with you when you leave the house

Always put the toilet seat back down

The other biggie would eventually be Always turn off the gas stove when you are finished cooking, but at this point, he had not earned the responsibility of using the stove.  The microwave, sure. The toaster oven, of course. But a live flame and an extremely forgetful kid do not make a good combination. If he were home alone, a sandwich or heated up soup or left-overs would have to do for a snack.

So we gave Bill a key to the house.

With much of the same fanfare as when we entrusted our own kids with a key to their home (they were probably 11 or 12 at that time), we presented him with the key, on a key ring, made sure he knew how to unlock the doors, and told him we trusted him to be responsible. I was playing fast and loose with that word: responsible.

Two days later, he did not have school. Since I worked  until noon that day, he decided he would sleep in, then ride his bike to a nearby park to play basketball. He used Google Maps to find the park and showed me the route. He texted me the next day when he was leaving. Great!

I was meeting a friend for a quick lunch after work, and while driving in the complete opposite direction of the park he was supposed playing ball, I saw him riding his bike.  I do not mind him going to a different park, but made a mental note to speak to him about telling us where he was going, in case of emergency, etc.

About twenty minutes later, I received the following texts from Bill. (It was a perfectly beautiful day to be outside)

My friend said I should have responded #laughing#……. It was 45 minutes outside on a sunny day.

And I’ll add that if my own kids had texted me such a snarky note, I definitely would not have answered so calmly and politely.

This exact situation happened with my older son when he was younger, and when I said he had to wait outside until I returned, he grudgingly did his homework on the patio for an hour. And he never forgot his key again.

When I drove up, a mere 40 minutes later, I found Bill sitting on the side of the house, next to the trash cans, playing on his IPad.  When I asked him why he didn’t wait on the patio, in the nice backyard, he just said, I didn’t want to. Ok…. He said he didn’t like sitting outside. So I asked him if, from now on if he would remember his key every time he left the house. As grudgingly as my son, he mumbled yes, I suppose so.

Lesson learned. Hopefully.

Unfortunately, the lessons continued.

Twice, I have come home from work to find the front door wide open, Bill no where to be found. (Actually, he could always be found playing basketball at one park or another).  Once, my daughter came home and the back door was propped open. We discovered that was intentional, just in case the dog wanted to go out.

Strike Two.

The toilet seat seems to be a real issue for him. He says basically he just doesn’t want to do it. He doesn’t have to do it in China. (For the hundred time, this isn’t China!). My daughter shares the bathroom with him and after a midnight round of falling in the bowl, has become reasonably irritated.

Bill is a smart kid. If he can used google maps to scout out parks in the area to play basketball, he can flip the seat back down.

The other morning, I asked him if he remembered to put the seat down and he said no. I asked to go back upstairs and fix that. You would have thought I asked him to dig a ditch and carry all the dirt to the street……. We had a conversation about consequences.  When I suggested if he couldn’t follow the rules, he would not be allowed to play basketball, he was shocked. He said he has never, in his life, had a negative consequence because he did something wrong. That much was obvious.

Now I was shocked. He is an almost sixteen year old person. Ok, a person from an extremely wealthy family, with a maid and nanny, an only child, only son, who has been told he can do no wrong. Still, no consequences, ever??

Strike Three.

He will learn. He may be rich and spoiled, but my husband and I are determined. Good old American values and all. Responsibilities. This is not China.

This experience is proving  much more difficult than I imagined.

We asked Bill if he would like to visit downtown Chicago his first weekend with us. He was not interested in seeing any Windy City tourist attractions. He wanted to play basketball. I decided he if he didn’t want explore the cultural opportunities our city had to offer, we would introduce him to a few new people.

I made a quick phone call to some friends with a pool, a basketball hoop and a generous nature and obtained a friendly invitation. We packed our swim suits, confirmed that Bill knew how to swim and headed out.

He seemed interested in meeting our friends, and seemed genuinely interested in their three younger children. He ended up playing basketball with the fifth grader, and then joined us in the pool. He answered our questions about life in China with a good nature and seemed to have an enjoyable day. I did have to explain to him that the appetizers our hostess set out were for everyone, not just him when I saw him shoveling food in his mouth while standing over the platter. I also found it strange that he felt it was necessary to face time his father in the middle of the evening, and then proceed to speak with him for a least a half hour.
All in all, it was an entertaining evening.

The next day, we took him to meet Grama and Grampa. They are older, and not in the best of heath. Grama has short-term memory issues, and asked him the same questions over and over. To his credit, he patiently answered her each time. When I told him on the way home it was nice that he was so polite to her repeated questions, he said what do you mean?

He didn’t even notice.

When we had friends over for a Labor Day BBQ, he hid in his room for most of time, joining us only to eat and briefly chit-chat. He claimed he had homework, which I found out later he didn’t do – he told me he was going to ask for an extension because he said he didn’t feel like finishing it on time.

I guess he was done meeting new people for a while.

Bill recently got sick. He thought it was due to the fact the he exerted himself for two hours while doing his volunteer work. (His school requires 25 hours of community service hours per year). I was pretty sure an upset stomach and 103 degree fever was the result of a virus, but you never know. Personally, I don’t like to exert myself either….

I know how it feels to be sick in a strange place, and felt bad for him. I made him take Tylenol instead of the Chinese powder he brought with him for the fever. He didn’t question me, but did check with his uncle in China, who approved of my doctoring skills. I have managed to keep three children of my own alive for 21 years!

Everyone likes something special when they are sick, and Bill was no exception. He asked me to boil already cooked rice in a lot of water, to form a gruel of sorts. With a sick stomach, soft things always make you feel better, and I was glad to help him in this way.

As I was leaving to go to the store the next day, I asked if there was anything else he would like.

Chinese pickles. Odd choice for an upset stomach……

I was running to Trader Joe’s, not Chinatown.

I told him we could get some when his stomach settled down, but while he was throwing up, soft foods were a better choice.

The next day, he was feeling better and marched down to the kitchen and demanded,  I want noodles. 

I gently reminded him that please and thank you are the polite way of asking for things. I felt like I should have received an award for my patience, but justified his attitude as a result of his illness. My husband disagreed with me.

When I showed him the type of noodles I had, he got mad. Apparently, unless they are long (spaghetti-type) they don’t count. My husband explained that pasta is all basically the same, just different shapes and Bill got very angry, yelled that’s not what we have in China,  and marched back upstairs.

My husband was all for giving him nothing until he asked politely, but I felt bad. I made the pasta shells, took them up to his room and left them. He brought the empty bowl down later, without comment.

We had yet another conversation with him about manners, not yelling and demanding when he wanted something, and how this isn’t China. I am all for making him comfortable, but more and more, we are seeing that he would rather have us behave more Chinese-like, as opposed to him assimilating to American ways.

The next day, our neighbor, who is half Chinese, gave me some unopened Chinese noodles she purchased for her son. She also said that Bill’s behavior was very un-Chinese-like, and more spoiled rich-kid…..Which is what we thought.

When I showed the noodles to Bill, he examined the packaging, which was written in Chinese, the handed them back to me.

These are no good.

I had no response.

We took him to a Chinese restaurant that night. He ate an enormous bowl of noodles. The rest of us had a lovely dinner, and left the restaurant full and satisfied.

He said it was just ok. Not like in China.

Ahhhhhhhhh.

 

 

Bill said that he didn’t eat anything cold. He had been vigilant about his warm water drinking, and he did like his milk heated, even with cereal. It had only been two days with us, and our daughter was going out with a friend for ice cream. She invited him to join them.

I don’t eat ice cream. It’s too cold. Cold is bad for you.

She told him he could just come along for the ride.

Will that be weird if I don’t eat the ice cream?

She told him no, just come on. So he did.

According to her, when they got there, and ordered, he relented and had a double scoop in a chocolate cone (he supposedly did not like sweets either) and ate the whole thing!

A few days later, we drove through McDonald’s…. I like a little sundae treat there once in a while, and though he had to look up the meaning of caramel, he downed that ice cream like a champ in a few bites.

He invited another Chinese student over for basketball and dinner. Naturally, what does one make for dinner to serve Chinese boys? Mexican food! They loved it… Bill is a big eater. After dinner, we took them to a frozen yogurt shop. They had never been to one, and we showed them how to work the yogurt machines and try a few different flavors and toppings.

They both kept filling their bowls until they were heaping. The Chinese don’t have pay by the ounce establishments.  It cost $38.00 for frozen yogurt. Bill didn’t even finish half.

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