A Foreign Exchange

So on July 5th, we decided we would accept a foreign exchange student into our home.

It is now July 10th, and that foreign exchange student has just spent the first night at our house.

How did we make such short-term arrangements? Only God knows that.

Because He planned it.

Last night, my family and I spent at least a good two hours anxiously (not necessarily the good anxious) awaiting the arrival of our new friend, brother and son for the next month. Two of my three younger brothers, Joshua and Caleb, being 4 and 6, were fighting over who got to hold the black-and-white welcome sign reading:

"WELCOME JEAN-BAPTISTE"

So maybe it wasn't the most GLORIOUS welcome sign that we all might dream of when coming to a new home in another country, but it was something. And apparently it was enough, too! JB (short for Jean-Baptiste) immediately came to greet us with a nervous smile on his face. My mother went in to give him a hug and, of course, what she failed to remember was that, in France, one does not simply greet the a woman with a hug. Kisses on or near both cheeks is the traditional welcome from male to female, female to female, and female to male. I don't honestly know if males have something else like a bro-hug, but if they don't I think he got the idea after Mom's startled response. Luckily her brain churning for the appropriate response and her eyes showing signs of being startled was the most awkward it got.

From the airport, we went to go eat at a Texan/Mexican food place. But his response to the actual food itself was less great than the conversations we had. I learned three things about France during dinner:

1. Almost all of their radio music is in English. And I quote "I don't know how they can hear [understand] it!" Not only that, but his favorite music is rap, and he only has one French rap song on his phone.

2. Computer programming is done in English, not in French.

3. They don't have French toast in France (I knew about French fries, but seriously, French toast?!)

Also, I think he honestly believes Americans are stupid. Not only do we not have a complicated and more sophisticated schooling system like they do in France, but our randomly generated license plate numbers made him gawk at the inefficiency. In France, their license plates reflect their address and stuff, but I had to explain to him that here, the license plate numbers were LINKED to your address and name, but didn't actually represent anything.

And one more thing- He's never stepped foot in a church before. The only reason I mention that is because, as ironic and perfect as it seems, we're doing VBS next week, so where does he have to be for a whole week of his stay in the United States? Vacation Bible School. Oh, God, you work in hilariously amazing ways.

I have a feeling that I'm in for a really great month of July.