THE LAST DAY BEFORE BREAK

Hello! I don't want to keep anyone waiting over the holidays, so I will satisfy your desires and give you a little something to chew on over the break.

I substituted for two elementary schools this week, on Monday and Tuesday. Tuesday I asked a 4th grade student to move seats because he was getting to distracted by his peers around him and this is what he told me: "I'm not gonna move."

What?!

"I'm not going over there."

I was shocked; stunned. What do I say to that? I either play the ultimate power move and send him to the office, or I give up. Well guess what, ladies and gentlemen? I gave up. I didn't want to send him to the office. He wasn't being that bad, really. I just asked him to move his seat, but the situation quickly escalated into something far worse than I could have anticipated (read: Iraq). So I said very sternly:

"Ok, this is the last warning. If I have to come over here again, you are going to the office. Alright? That's it."

And it more or less worked. I hate giving in. It goes against all models of teaching, training, incentive, etc.

THE SECOND GRADERS

Yesterday I substituted for some hellish 2nd graders. These are two separate notes I confiscated from two separate kids:

"Adriana just took u furt"

"Sarina smells like a skunk"

I think the first one is supposed to say "Adriana just took a fart" Boys were writing these and giving them to the girls named in the notes. Sarina does not smell like a skunk, I assure you this. I cannot confirm or deny the first note, however.

THE SCHOOLHOUSE ROCK VIDEO

Today I had the fantastic privilege of partaking in the goodness of Schoolhouse Rock. I substituted for an English teacher at Dos Pueblos who teaches an ELD class (English Language Development). These are students who are learning English for the first time, who cannot function in a mainstream class yet. So we learned about Pronouns.

I don't know why, but I never had the opportunity to watch a Schoolhouse Rock video. Ever. I knew what the program was, had even heard people sing parts of songs from the show, but I had never witnessed firsthand the joy of 70s style music crafted to promote the finer aspects of English grammar.

This was my favorite episode that we watched. View it twice--it's catchy.

THE DAYS FLY BY

Last week I subbed for two elementary schools and two different high schools (Dos Pueblos and San Marcos). In one of the elementary schools I got to hold a leopard gecko and we learned about fish. Also, during PE a fifth grade girl screamed every single time someone made a basket, whether or not they were on her team. She would hold both arms straight down at her sides, fists clenched, eyes closed, little ears sticking out through her hair, and scream like a little girl. Which she was.

At the other elementary school the students asked me to be their teacher for FOREVER after I did some magic tricks for them. I made a ring disappear and pulled it out of the air. I also took my thumb clean off of my hand! Boy, did that hurt. And I solved the rubik's cube in about 50 seconds for them.

At San Marcos I subbed for a teacher that I play poker with every other Friday. I asked the kids if they knew their teacher played poker. They did not know it, and I hoped it was ok to share that personal information. Got two or three kids solving the rubik's cube.

At Dos Pueblos we had four people solving the rubik's cube in my class at lunch. It was beautiful.

THE ABSENT MINDED TEACHERS

Yesterday was an interesting day of subbing. I was scheduled to substitute for a Spanish class at Dos Pueblos High School. I showed up on time, opened the class, and didn't see a lesson plan. That has never happened to me before and I was a little worried about simply babysitting for six classes throughout the day. It's much better when there is busy work to do.

Anyways, it didn't matter, because the teacher came to school! He had canceled his request for a sub but the secretary didn't take note of the cancellation. So I was free to go!

As I was leaving the office the secretary said, "Wait! Phil, there is another sub who isn't here yet. Can you open their class and get them started?"

Why, certainly. The bell had already rung and all the students were just standing outside of the class, waiting for the substitute to show up. So I opened the door and started taking attendance. Moments later the substitute showed up, so I headed back to the office to say goodbye for a second time.

This time there were two security guards in the secretary's office. There was another teacher who didn't show up. This other teacher is actually my friend, Matt. I do Young Life with him. So I was sent over to his classroom where the students had been standing outside for about 10 minutes now. In fact, as I started heading their way, I could see some just beginning to leave.

It turns out Matt had emailed last night for a substitute, but the email servers were down in the office this morning, so the secretary never got the message. Matt's mother flew into town yesterday, but her plane was delayed and came in pretty late. He spent the day with her.

Good thing I was there.

I ended up subbing after all!

THE STABBING

Tuesday was a terrible day of subbing, and I was only in each class for one hour. Done by lunch. You'd think only having kids for about 50 minutes at a time and leaving by noon would be fantastic. At least that's what I thought when I took the job. Unfortunately the only peaceful hour was the first one, in which there were two other aids in the classroom.

The second hour I came within 30 seconds of sending a kid straight to the principal. I was actually looking for a note to write on when he finally agreed to sit in the back where he wouldn't be distracting or distracted.

The third hour I witnessed 7 year olds saying things like dammit and dancing around like monkeys. Seriously!

The fourth hour I actually did send a kid out of the classroom. And then I gave those first graders a pep talk:

"Ok. There is a problem here. Do you know what the problem is? I want to see hands. Yes, you."

"We are being too noisy!"

"That's right. I have to do what your teacher wrote down for me. But it's really hard because everyone is chatty and being distracting. So what can we do to help? Yes? You."

"We need to pay attention and listen better."

"Good! Alright, let's keep going."

Later that class, as I was helping another student, one kid begins punching another kid and ends up stabbing himself on the pencil the victim was holding. Then the stabbed kid leaves class on his own (to go to the office, apparently) and tells the principal that the other kid stabbed him with a pencil.

THE RAIN DANCE

On Friday, much to my chagrin, I allowed a girl to do a dance to make rain happen. She said she really wanted to show people this dance she had made up, and so I thought it would be something cute that people would get a good laugh out of. Unfortunately for everyone in the classroom, the dance was dumb and a little bit mocking of Native American dances. It was ridiculous!

This was in math class, mind you.

THE RUBIK'S CUBE

Being unsure of what to write, but sure I must write something...

On Friday I will have substituted at Dos Pueblos for four days this week. Four days! The secretary, Terry Tripp, is wonderful to me--she gives me work all the time.

At DP I am sometimes referred to as the "Cube Guy" or, "Mr. Cube" or, "Rubik's Cube man" because I am obsessed with the Rubik's Cube and I practice it all the time. At school.

Now, this is not to say that I let the kids do whatever they want while I sit in the corner working the cube. I take my job very seriously and make sure that I follow the teacher's instructions to the best of my ability. And THEN I practice my Rubik's Cube. I've gone from about 1min 45 sec to about 1:07 now. My best time is :46 seconds.

THE SUB NOTE

This is a transcript of a sub note that I left for a teacher last week. It was pretty much the worst day ever:

Per. 1 was fine. Most finished early and worked well.

Per. 2 was very rambunctious and took way too long to get focused. Particularly Trevor, Carson, Ulysses, and Javier.

Per. 3 was glorious compared to 2nd. [later] Except someone stole someone else's football! I don't know who.

Per. 5 said that they could choose their own groups. I had to take time reminding them where to be. A bit chatty and distracted on the whole.
[later]
Group 1 was very distracting and rude. Whole class was pretty rude-- Mrs. Wopatt had to lay down the law.

Per. 6: This class started like hell. I referred Tyrone to the office within five minutes; everyone chatting fifteen minutes after the bell rang...
Wopatt said she saw some kids talking to each other after test started, suggested class take exam over because of possible cheating.

My faults were that I was not strict enough; makes it easy for kids to get away with stuff.
Phillip Van Nostrand

please call if you'd like 805-637-6982

Quote of the day: "Hey guys, remember when I was gonna start a strip club?"

--Ninth grade girl needing attention 10/19/07

THE NICE THING ABOUT SUBBING FOR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS.

Today I substituted for a 5th/6th grade class. Elementary school children are really wearing me down. This class wasn't particularly bad. Nothing I couldn't handle. But I just feel so tired at the end of the day.

The nice part was Emily and Megan. Emily is a student teacher from UCSB assigned to that class this year, and Megan is an aide for an autistic boy in the class. Every once in a while I come to a class in an elementary school and there stands a cute young teacher-to-be and all my worries fade away. One time last year after some casual flirting with a student teacher in a kindergarten class I got a lovely note on my windshield at the end of the day. With a phone number. :)

In other news, this Saturday I will be helping chaperone the Dos Pueblos Homecoming dance. Us Young Life leaders chaperone various dances throughout the year, including (but not limited to) Homcoming, Winter Formal, and Prom. It...is...AWESOME. So much fun! Remember your high school dances? The ones that weren't awkward? I had fantastic dance experiences in high school. And it is so fun to see all the students I sub for get dressed up. Makes me happy.

THE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL KIDS

I'm not sure what I want to say here. I have substituted quite a few times since I last wrote. Had a frustrating class (5th grade), a great class (4th grade), and a frustrating class (4th/5th grade). I do want to say this:

I dread subbing for elementary school kids. They suck.

Now, I know that sounds rather harsh. I suppose that in a different environment elementary school kids wouldn't suck at all. But when I am supposed to be following lesson plans according to the teacher's discretion and the students talk over me, don't listen, talk back, I begin to lose heart. And when a kid is crying because he was making stupid faces during a rhythm exercise with the music teacher and got himself in trouble, I decide in my heart that elementary school kids suck.

The problem with substituting for elementary schools is that I am not simply managing a classroom of students who are pretty much independent as well as self-taught like in high school. No, I am managing and disciplining a classroom of students who are pretty much dependent and totally unable to do anything fruitful if left alone for more than 5 minutes. I think a lot of us forget this very important point:

We learn life skills in elementary school.

Like how to share, how to be patient, how to listen and not speak, how to blah-blah-blah. It basically reminds me of a lady who called in on Dr. Laura Schlessinger's radio show and said that she would never have children because they are incredibly selfish, and they are selfish for eighteen years of your life until they leave you for college.

:) I understand where that caller is coming from. And Dr. Laura chewed her out, in all her harsh and unforgiving glory.

THE WEDDINGS

Today I was informed that there are two girls that want to marry me at Dos Pueblos. A student from a church group I work with told me in class today, "Phil, I know two girls who want to marry you.. I got a text message from one of them Saturday night, saying 'I'm going to marry Mr. V! Do you want to be a bridesmaid in my wedding??'"

Well, I thought it would be a good idea NOT to know who those girls are, so I didn't ask.

THE BUFFALO

Hello denizens of this great adventure called life!

On Friday, as I was walking to the office after subbing for an English class at Dos Pueblos, I saw a group of scene kids that I know who were playing a singing and dancing game called Buffalo-- It's a call and response game. They called me over, "Mr. V! Come dance with us!" So I went.

"Hey Mr. V!"
"Hey what?"
"Do you know how to buff?"
"Buff a what?"
"Buffalo!
"Oh!"
"My hooves are high, my hooves are low, and this is how I buffalo!"
"His hooves are high, his hooves are low, and this is how he buffaloes!"
Then I make up a dance move and everyone copies me.
"Buff" clap-clap clap "A" clap-clap clap "Looooo!"

THE VIRGIN

It's been a while and boy do I have some stories! Where to begin, where to begin...

Well, first off, on Friday I subbed at Dos Pueblos for a class that I didn't even know existed! It was a classroom for Emotionally Disturbed students. While I was there I played flamenco guitar with a student, a girl tried to sell weed to purchase a kitten, a boy and a girl almost got into a fight, and a boy arrived for school at around 1:30PM.

On Monday I subbed for an English class. The teacher requests me :) During one period where kids were supposed to be reading but were mainly chatting and not reading, I was sitting on a desk practicing my Rubik's cube. I overheard a conversation between three people. It went something like this:

White girl to Mexican guy: "Do you think she looks Asian?" (referring to a Mexican girl)
Mexican guy: "I don't know..."
ME: "Yeah! She does.. A little."

I had decided to jump in on the conversation, I don't know why. Mainly because I thought she looked kinda Asian; and perhaps I wanted to show that it wasn't a bad thing. Or something. Regardless, she turned really red and they all started laughing. She kept saying, "Don't look at me! Don't look at me!" And I said, "What?! Looking Asian is not a bad thing!"

And the white girl exclaimed, "That's not what I asked him!"

It was then that I realized that "Do you think she's a virgin?" sounds an awful lot like "Do you think she looks Asian?" if you are not listening closely.

So I basically told a girl in class that she looks like a virgin. A little.





P.S. She is a virgin, apparently.

Publish Post

THE OVERZEALOUS RUNNER

This is the story about how I almost fainted and threw up in front of a bunch of ten-year-olds:

First, I started by substituting at Mountain View Elementary School. I had a lovely class of fifth graders who were very excited to have a guy for a sub.

Second, I agreed to run their lap with them during PE.

Third, I agreed to be the "rabbit" during the run when the PE coach asked me to. The rabbit lets all of the kids have a head start and then he (or she) takes off after them, trying to catch up. Whoever gets passed by the rabbit has to run an extra lap. The lap is approximately one quarter mile.

Fourth, I sprinted full speed for a quarter mile without slowing down at all. The coach was impressed by how fast I ran, and so were the kids. :) So was I. I passed about half of all the fifth graders, which I guess doesn't normally happen.

Fifth, I hadn't run in about three weeks and I didn't have enough water in my system.

Sixth, I went straight from running to playing jump rope, one of the PE activities that day. After a while I started to feel VERY VERY thirsty. After I got some water I felt tired. Then I started sweating. Then PE was over and I had to collect the kids to go to choir in the auditorium. It was around this time that my body started to go into shock.

I sat down on a ledge as the kids got some water. I stood up to lead them off to choir and I started to black out. My vision went from perfect to spotty around the edges to completely black. Just before I went entirely blind this is what I was thinking:

"Please do not faint in front of these kids. Hold on holdonholdon HOLD ON!! Cmon. There's the door. It's open. I see an faint outline of a chair. Is that real? Reach for it."

As I went completely blind I grasped a chair that I knew should be there and sat down. I didn't faint. I didn't throw up. I rested for about 10 seconds as my vision started to come back to me.

Fortunately for me all I had to do was walk them to the auditorium, where the choir teacher took over for the rest of the class. No one new a thing had happened, except for the super observant ones, who I think saw all the color drain from my my cheeks.

And the PE coach said, "Next time we'll have to give them a longer head start!"

Next time I might die.

THE CRIPS

Yesterday I was with 12th graders all day. Substituting for an English teacher at Dos Pueblos. In one of her classes this was the conversation that I overheard between a girl and a guy:

Guy: "Wasn't your boyfriend in a gang?"
Girl: "Yeah."
Guy: "He was with the Bloods, right?"
Girl: "No, the Crips."

...later, she talks about how after he beat her up she broke up with him. Even later she tries getting people to go to this "huge rave in LA on Halloween."

Another student in the same class describes to his classmate how drunk his mom gets all the time, and imitated her the first time she got wasted around him.

THE PAID VACATION

Friday was the best kind of day to substitute. Do you know why? Because when I showed up the teacher was already there. "I requested a sub last week, not this week," she said. So I went to the office and on my time sheet they wrote down Error and then put me down to get payed for a full day of subbing (105 dollars a day in Santa Barbara).

I was home by 8am.

THE BAND

Today I substituted for band at Dos Pueblos. The band teacher actually only teaches three classes: Entrepreneurship, Advanced Jazz Band, and Beginning Jazz Band. There are other instructors for his marching band. The kids are all pretty much self taught; they get into their sections and practice their pieces. Easy as that.

Period 1: Open doors so students can drop off instruments. No class.
Period 2: Entrepreneurship. Students read.
Period 3: No class.
Period 4: Advanced jazz. Students just jam on whatever they want. I'm talking musical genius status in this class. Some ninth grader I spoke to is in two bands already.
Period 5: Beginning jazz. Students just jam on whatever they want. Not so much musical genius.
Period 6+7: Marching band. Other instructors take over. I leave.


Basically I finished a crossword puzzle today and worked on my Rubik's cube.

THE FIRST GRADE

Yesterday I remembered why I generally hate subbing for kids below the third grade.

I went back to my Alma Mater, La Patera Elementary School, which is always fun. Some of my old teachers are still there (I sat next to my fifth grade teacher at lunch, as a matter of fact). But here is why I don’t like subbing for first grade:

Nicholas F (not Nicholas E, who is an angel from heaven) transgressed the rules for a third time and lost his recess privileges. At that, he began to cry. Violently. In fact, he sobbed so hard that he was literally screaming into a pillow for about 12 minutes. While he was still lying there the principal came in and took him away for about thirty minutes. Later, near the end of the day the school psychologist came and took him out. This is not teaching, my friends. This is behavioral management.

Nicholas was the main source of my pain yesterday, but others helped add salt to my wounds—Kayla the space cadet (who, while we were reading about different houses that people around the world live in, kept saying "Oh, I live in that," [igloo] and "Oh that's my house," [mud and straw hut] whereupon the other students would turn to her and exclaim "You don't live there! Liar!"), Llovani the ADHD kid, Ismael the rambunctious, etc.

Last thing—For younger kids (and sometimes old ones, too), I go by Mr. V. I do this because Mr. Van Nostrand can be quite a mouthful and pretty hard to remember. But I’ve never had it happen like this before: I was called Mr. F, Mr. S, Mr. B, and just plain “Mister” by these kids with faulty neuron firings. All I kept thinking anytime someone called me by a wrong letter was “This is gonna be great for my blog!”

THE HOOK UP

Today I substituted at Dos Pueblos again. For math. Again. This time I subbed for my friend Matt Long, who is "so hot" and "not too old" according to some girls in his fourth period class. Those kind of conversations always make me smile. I don't know why. I think high school romance is just so funny, and hearing students talk about crushes and whatnot always makes me laugh and shake my head.

But who am I to judge? I still haven't figured out LOVE enough to find that special someone.

Yet.

Speaking of which, those same girls tried to set me up with my longtime friend Courtney Medel, who also teaches at Dos Pueblos, in the English department. They said, "Do you know Ms. Medel?"

"Yeah, I do," I replied with a smile.

"She's cute..."

"I know," I replied with another smile. This time I smile because those kids are so silly for trying to play cupid when they hardly know me.

"Ooooohh you think she's cute! Hook it up! You want me to talk to her? I'll be your match maker. For just 20 bucks I can get you a date with her. For 40 bucks I'll get her to pay."

Ha ha, who comes up with that stuff, seriously?

THE APPLAUSE

So this kid just added me on Facebook Monday. This in itself is not news-- probably 50 percent of my friends on Facebook and Myspace are high school and junior high students that I have either substituted for or been a youth leader for in some organized church group.

[By the way, I have a strict policy that I do NOT ask students to be my friends on these social network sites. I accept requests from them to be friends, but I do not initiate such requests. I will only ask a student to be my friend on Facebook/Myspace if I have a previous relationship with them, like I tutored them for three years and I am a family friend, and they named their cat after me..]

But on Tuesday when I stood in front of the psychology class at Dos Pueblos High School with the aforementioned student, I was greeted with applause by the student and another student. Haha, they clapped for me! I should get a raise for this kind of feedback.

THE RUBBER BANDS

Yesterday in the math class that I substituted for, three Seniors at Dos Pueblos found a very large bag of rubber bands. They were the teacher's rubber bands, but that wasn't stopping anybody. The guys were using them to shoot small pieces of paper at each other. I took the rubber bands away and said that I wouldn't write their names down unless I saw them messing around again.

I'm supposed to be the 'nice' sub!

About five minutes later, out of my periphery I see a rubber band held low and a paper flying towards someone's back.

Their names were recorded. In black ink.

And just in case you were wondering what kind of math it was that these sophomores, juniors, and seniors were doing, here is a sample question from their work:

-1 - (9)= ?

also:

Two lines are on a graph. Without using a calculator or drawing a graph, find out where the lines intersect:

y=1/3X+5
y=x-3

THE FIRST WEEK

Hi folks!

School is back in session as of yesterday, and I have already received requests to substitute for seven different days!

My first class will be a math class at Dos Pueblos High school, and I'll be there Thursday and Friday this week. Stay tuned as I will certainly have stories to share.

Love, Phil

THE SUBSTITUTE

Hello, I've moved. Stay tuned for more updates... and a new series titled "The Substitute." Same format, different students. ;)

THE MOVE

It's official-- I'm moving out. On the weekend of the 18th, all of my students and I will have to move due to my landlord's greed.

Vittorio says "Nooo, Phil. You are a good host father. I don wan nobody else!"

THE STUDENT NAMED GREGOIRE

Did you know that about two weeks ago I was told I would receive another French student?! He came already, but that is not the point of my story. This is the point:

On Friday I got a call from EF saying I would have two Japanese brothers arrive on Saturday and a French student arrive on Sunday. The Japanese bros came and they are so quiet! I still don't really know if they understand anything I say. They just repeat a few of my words and nod anytime I ask them or tell them something.

But the French student didn't come on Sunday. By the way, if you have been following my blog for a while you would know that not a single French student has arrived on time. Every one of them has had plane delays, complications, etc. This time when the student didn't come on Sunday I just figured maybe he canceled and wasn't coming. Sometimes students do that.

I called the school on Monday just in case and Marlene, the secretary there, didn't see anything about a late flight, or a missing student-- all she said was, "I just see that you have a student Gregoire there." And that's true-- Gregoire has been here for about two weeks now. Oh well. I figured my French student canceled, missed his flight, whatever.

Even more strange, I received a long distance call at work that Monday. From country code +33. I thought it was Vittorio's dad, since he had been trying to reach Vittorio via my cell phone recently. When I listened to the message later it was a French lady calling to see if Gregoire had arrived and if everything was ok. Well of course Gregoire had arrived! He's been here for two weeks already! I was confused: perhaps Greg hadn't emailed or called his family yet in the time that he has been here. Sometimes students do that.

Everything made sense when I was at home cooking dinner later that night and the missing student shows up at my door: Gregoire, from France. They sent me ANOTHER student named Gregoire!

Now I have two Gregoires from France in my home and they are both in the same room. It's pretty silly.

THE TRIP TO MAGIC MOUNTAIN

This is the story of how I spent over 350 dollars on my day at Magic Mountain:

It all began when my best friend Felipe Contreras brought up a team to Santa Barbara from YWAM's Mexico base. Each summer he brings a group up to see his hometown and have a little respite from the labor of building houses every week. Felipe also likes to take the group to Magic Mountain during their mini-vacation.

So I went to Magic Mountain yesterday. And I took four students with me. I was originally going to take just two students (Michel and Vittorio) and my sister and her boyfriend, but Catherine and Daniel canceled at the last minute, so 20 minutes before we were to leave we got two more students to join us: Gregoire and another French student from Valerio, Gigi.

The day was FANTASTIC! My best trip to Magic Mountain ever. This is what I rode on:

X (one time)
Goliath (four times)
Batman (two times)
Superman (one time)
Riddler's Revenge (one time)
Deja Vu (one time)
Tatsu (two times)
Viper (one time)
Scream (two times)

This is how long I went without eating that day:

15 hours

and this is how I spent 350 dollars on my trip to Magic Mountain:

I lost my car keys

What do you do when you are walking back to your car and you realize that your keys are missing? You run back to the park and go directly to Lost and Found in the Guest Services building.

And when they tell you that your keys were not picked up by any of the attendants on any of the rides, you feel sick and your body goes numb. Why? Because you are responsible for four foreigners who trust you and who have school tomorrow. The employee recommended I call back at 11 the next morning.

Well, after I didn't throw up I returned to the group, made some phone calls and decided to stay in a hotel for the night. We walked to a gas station who directed us to a Best Western just on the other side of the freeway. At 12:30am we walked in to find it completely booked. "But I heard there is one room left at the Holiday Inn," said the receptionist. The Holiday Inn was next door. Convenient, right? Except for the price: 169.00 for a single room with a King size bed, the only one they had left.

After I swallowed big, conferred with my comrades, and tried another hotel by phone with no luck, I decided to just bite the bullet and do it. At least the room would be nice and the amenities luxurious.

The three French boys made sure we got our money's worth. Even though it was 1:00am by the time we had settled into our room, they went out and used the Workout Room, the pool, and the 'business lounge' for free internet. When we left they took home with them some shampoo, pens, etc.

They actually really enjoyed the whole adventure, and had the best day possible at Magic Mountain, so that relieved a lot of my stresses throughout the ordeal.

In the morning I waited until 11 o'clock, and then promptly called Guest Services to find out that... No, they still hadn't found my keys. Time to bite the next big bullet and call the locksmiths.

145 dollars to get a replacement key for my car. The man on the phone asked for my car's model and year and then brought with him a box of 200 keys. Supposedly one of them would work on my vehicle. Crazy, huh?

So the locksmith picked me up from the hotel at about 11:20am and we drove across the way to Magic Mountain's parking lot where my little car sat waiting all night for me. He starts trying keys. He said sometimes it works right away, but if by chance none of the keys work, he will call his guy to come out and use a special tool to construct one from the lock. He tries each key one way, then takes it out, turns it over, tries again. For each key.

Guess what happened on the 199th key? It didn't work, of course! What are the odds of that happening? But on the very last key my car turned over. It worked! The very last key. Can you believe that? And I gotta tell you, it was hot out there. Valencia in the summer at about noon was 93 degrees out. And the sweat on my locksmith's head confirmed it.

"Incredible," he said. "The very last key." He couldn't believe it either. So he made a cut, tried it, made some adjustments, and I payed up. The 145 dollar key, plus the 150 dollar hotel room, and the 30 dollar park cost, along with gas costs and the fact that I was using minutes I didn't have on my phone (.40 cents per minute when I go over!) added up to more than 350 dollars.

But I am thankful that I am home now, able to write you this magical story of love and loss, and the wonder that is Magic Mountain.

THE WALKIE TALKIES

I have got just the sort of story you need for today! Are you ready?

Last night the two French boys came home at about midnight. I was on my computer listening to some great new music I overheard in a Starbucks downtown (Paolo Nutini) earlier in the evening. As I removed my earphones I could hear Michel and Gregoire's laughter from outside the front door. Hearing my students happy and enjoying life always makes me happy and proud to be doing what I'm doing.

As they entered the living room I saw that Michel was singing into a walkie talkie that he had in his left hand. I exclaimed "You got a walkie talkie!"

He responded "Yes! No more phone calls!" with a laugh and a smile. I understood immediately.

See, just around the corner from my house is a unit of apartments that EF calls the "Residence." The Residence is 30 apartments that house about three students each. The school owns them all. If a student wants more independence than being with a host family allows, they can opt for this independent living situation (for about 50 bucks more per month). It's really like the foreign students' dorms.

Naturally, all of my students end up having friends over at Valerio (the street name of the Residence). And how ingenious of the French guys to purchase walkie talkies! Instead of paying for minutes on their phones, they have instant access to their friends at any time through these perfect sounding handheld transceivers.

Whoever it was on the other end was having a blast with their sound system. I heard YMCA and about six other classic dance tunes in the span of about 2 minutes.

THE JAPANESE BROS

Today the Japanese brothers came. They are 17 and 18 years old, and they hail from Tokyo. Right now they are playing the Wii.

When the Japanese Bros showed up on my doorstep the house was in a bit of disarray, much to my embarrassment. I was unable to clean it before their scheduled arrival because I was gone at church, tutoring, and then grocery shopping. But the redeeming value of our positive personality household shone through and Greg, the French student, invited the Japanese Bros to come along to the beach with him and his friends.

A wonderful welcome to a new a strange place.

THE NOTE

I remember my first day of Intro to Philosophy quite distinctly. The classroom was packed. Joe White is a very popular philosophy professor at Santa Barbara City College and people were sitting on the steps going up the rows of desks because there were not enough seats for everyone. Joe White said "I will not tolerate tardiness. It is the rudest thing you can do. It is like saying F___ You to my face. If this class is not worth your time, then don't come. I will not accept late papers for any excuses. If you are going to be late for class, you better have stopped to save a bus full of nuns that had caught on fire. Otherwise, don't come."

That, my friends, is exactly how I feel about my students not showing up for dinner on time (or at all.) Imagine you are a guest in someone's house, visiting for a week or two, and they tell you "I'm going to make you a delicious dinner at 6 o'clock tonight." And then you go shopping and don't come back until 8 o'clock. You. Are. Rude.

Almost every night I have a student who does that to me. Mainly it is Michel, the French student. Sometimes it is Jimmy, the Taiwanese. I always tell my students "Remember, if you can't make it to dinner, please leave a note for me." Some students are always good at doing that. I appreciate that because then I know if should be cooking for three people or six people.

Also, I have students washing dishes one night a week. Just once a week! Thirty minutes and you are done for six whole days. These are the only two things I ask of my students. Show up for dinner and wash your dishes.

When a student doesn't wash the dishes they start to pile up fast in the sink and then we are working with limited supplies. I only have so many pots and pans and forks and knives. With seven people in the house, those things get used up quickly. So when Michel didn't wash the dishes one night, I told him to just make sure he washes them before dinner the next day. Well, when I came home the next day and nothing had changed, ohhhhhhhhhh you better believe I was not happy. I wrote him a note that went something like this:

"Michel, if you do not wash the dishes tonight I will call EF (his school) and ask them to move you to another house. Phil"

Voilá! The next morning the sink was spotless. Now I know how my parents might have felt all these years.

THE STUDENTS-- ALL OF THEM

I rented my bike to Vittorio, the Venezuelan student, for 20 dollars. I rented it to Dong Soo, my Korean student last year, and now it's almost payed off! 20 dollars is a good deal to have unlimited use of a bike for two months. Then again, old students sell bikes at the school all the time for 30-50 bucks.

Mike the Russian plays the Wii all the time.

Michel the French is still gone 18 hours a day. He even admitted yesterday that he "doesn't live here." He is my first student that I have had like that. Of the three weeks that he has been here Michel has eaten dinner with us twice. Isn't that crazy? And expensive, if he is getting his meals downtown.

Gregoire the other French is still sweet and dresses like a true European tourist. He bought this hilarious sun hat and wears capri pants.








Carlos the Brazilian is enjoying himself tremendously, and he has purchased a new laptop, an iPod, and lots of clothes since he has arrived. He talks with his family daily on his computer. I got to meet his kids on video phone. They are very cute.

Jimmy the Taiwanese (that's his English name) is nice and social and has already made some good friends since he arrived three days ago. He might be like Michel and I might never see him. That's ok, though, because it means that they are having fun and I have less work.

That's my update!

THE BIG NEWS

Hello there fellow travelers! Let's get the people details out of the way first: Daniel (the Swiss-German) and Marco (the Costa Rican) both left today. Two students are taking their places in the next 24 hours; a Venezuelan and a Taiwanese who are 15 and 16 years old, respectively.

That leaves us at max capacity still with six students: Marcos the old Brazilian, Mikhail the skinny Russian, Gregoire the slightly effeminate French boy, Michele the so-social-I-don't-see-him-for-days French boy, and the two newcomers who I have yet to meet.

Daniel was awesome. He actually bought me a beautiful guest book and filled in the first two pages about his time here and included some nice words of thanks. He wrote "At the beginning you showed me that I can ask you whatever I want and be honest with you. I appreciated that a lot." Aww, isn't that nice? And with such good grammar, too!

I wish he could have stayed longer.

I have some interesting news that may shock and astound you. The owner of my house is thinking about quitting his relations with the foreign school and renting to college students where there is plenty of money to be found (in supportive parents' wallets). I might not host foreign students come September!

If this house turns into a college dorm-type dwelling I'm not sure what will become of this host daddy. But I will keep you informed.

THE LONG TRAIN AND THE DISTURBED COSTA RICAN

Did you know that Mikhail, my Russian student lives in Vladivostok? That might not be very exciting to any of the uninformed out here in the West, but his city is the very last stop on the famous Trans-Siberian Railway that traverses the entire Russian countryside (including Mongolia and parts of China). That train ride takes SEVEN days and covers 5,772 miles (through eight time zones!). If he wants to take a trip to his Capitol by train,6 he better pack more than a good lunch.
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In other, more titillating news: I received a student from Costa Rica at the last minute yesterday. He will only be with me his last four days in the Santa Barbara. Apparently his host mother before me was cleaning her house in her underwear, and that made him uncomfortable enough to move out!

THE DISH WARS

Tonight was absolutely awesome!

After a great meal of chicken quesadillas with a side of ranch beans, Mike (the Russian) was jokingly complaining about doing the dishes. Everyone groans when it's their night to do the dishes. I used to wash the pots, pans, plates, cups, and silverware every single night. Let's just say I got tired of that real fast. So, at the recommendation of others I created a Dish Duty chart. Each student washes dishes one night out of the week, and I do any leftover days. It works beautifully and I wish I had started it earlier. It's the only chore I ask of the students.

As I was putting my plate in the sink I heard Daniel (the Swiss) and Mike talking about a competition to have the loser do the winning man's Dish Duty of the week. At first I thought they were going to play Rock, Paper, Scissors for it, the good old fashion way. But no-- this is the 21st century now, folks!

They played a Wii tennis tournament, best three games out of five. As the two students geared up in the living room, the rest of us gathered on the sidelines to cheer them on. We cleared out the coffee table, maximizing the maneuvering space for the two tennis champions. These European have been training hard the past two days since I purchased the almighty Wii, and now their skills were going to be put to the test.

The tension in the air was palpable. Shouts from the spectators echoed off the walls of my Lilliputian living room. The Russian pulled through for the win in the first match. The Swiss took it for the second match. There was a minor upset in the third match as Daniel's controller turned off in the middle of the game. Officials have yet to determine if the cause was an errant thumb on the power button or faulty batteries. Either way, emergency batteries were retrieved from a functioning flashlight and placed in the sweaty Swiss boy's remote.

The score was two to one, the Russian in the lead. He only needed to take one more match to spare himself the terrible chore of washing dishes for 15 minutes...

In the end, smiles were had all around. The Russian won. Daniel washed the dishes quickly while I soundly whipped Mike in another round of games.

I'm beginning to think the Wii was a wise investment. And maybe I can get out of doing the dishes this weekend.

THE STUDENT NAMED EMMANUEL, PART II

Sorry about my last entry's rant. I just need to get things off of my chest sometimes. No hard feelings, I promise. In fact, I wanted to say a couple of things in favor of my ex-student Emmanuel in that blog post but it already felt a bit long, so I'll say them now:

Emmanuel will probably be the one student who experienced the most he could possibly experience out of all my past, present, and future foreigners. He befriended so many Americans while he was here it's astounding. He consistently went out mountain biking with guys from the bike shop, he came with me to Young Life during the school year, he went to Hawaii, Las Vegas, San Francisco, San Diego, and more; his mother and brother came to visit him, he went on a great camping trip with our youth group, got invited to birthday parties, and so on.. he even got the maintenance guy at the school to drive him to Los Angeles for his flight home!

Let it be known that Emmanuel made this the best trip possible while he was here.
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I got a new student today. He is French, and his name is Gregoire. He is very sweet, and even asked me if he could dry his towel outside. Along with a new student, I also got a Nintendo Wii. Whee!

THE STUDENT NAMED EMMANUEL

Emmanuel is leaving tomorrow morning. He is the last of the "School Year Crew." All my remaining students are familiar with Santa Barbara from the summer only. The School Year Crew are the ones who were with me since September/October for more than three months.

It's strange watching students come through my house. They all come in at time zero, with no knowledge of the history, the stories, the laughter, and the students that came before them. But I see it all. I visualize it like God might view history. Different students move in and out. Buy a new table. House gets burglarized. Different students move in and out. It rains, it shines. Different students move in and out. New director at school. New plants in the yard. And so on...

I've had great memories with my School Year Crew-- camping, giving each other nicknames, going to concerts, and so much more. I even named my two beta fish after Enthony (the Swiss) and Paul (the Korean). I've developed a heartfelt bond with nearly all of my long-term students.

But not quite so with Emmanuel. There are a number of things that he has done that have rubbed me the wrong way, but they are all a little fuzzy and it's hard to pinpoint exactly what it is that I take issue with.

One reason I might not feel bonded with Emmanuel is because right now, as I type, one of the staff from the school is here and Emmanuel is giving stuff to him just five feet away from me. Emmanuel hasn't once offered to leave anything for the house. I sense that he can be a loyal friend but certainly not to me. He has an extra bike, shoes, skim board, sunglasses, spray cleaner, tools, etc. Why doesn't he leave all that stuff for future students? I just don't get it. I am almost inclined to take it personally, as though he is intentionally favoring others over me. That's what it looks like, and that's how it feels.

And, he drinks a lot of water.
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Ah, here is something! This further confirms some of those gut feelings I have been having: Emmanuel is actually not giving any of that stuff away. He is selling it to the guy. Why not just do the nice thing and give a friend a bike, hmm? They are driving to a bank right now to take $20 out of the ATM to pay Emmanuel.

THE BAR

Hello my dear readers. I'm afraid I don't have any headline worthy news to report since the sensational exposition of my missing French student who was not really missing. So I will offer you a tasty vignette:

"Sharkeez"

Last night I went to Sharkeez, a sports bar and restaurant located in downtown Santa Barbara. Monday night is "International Night" and the foreign language school encourages students to attend the festivities and meet other students, dance, and have fun. The school has a deal with Sharkeez to allow entry to students under 21 until 10pm, which is nice for Europeans like my Daniel whose only night out on the town is Monday. He was telling me "It's so strange, man, to be in a bar and not have a beer." These guys are drinking in bars at the young age of 16. No hard liquor until 18, though!

I used to frequent Sharkeez a lot last year. It's nice to meet some of my students' friends and just hang out with the foreigners. I've made some good friends that way, like the French girls, Julie and Alizee. I never tire of hearing stories about other countries, cities, people. I've had the good opportunity to travel a bit in the last few years, so I can listen for what seems like forever with empathy and expressed interest in the stories of my traveling companions.

But allow me to present to you the star of this story, my French student, Michel (pronounced Me-Shell). At nine o'clock I entered the building, peering around at the smattering of foreigners here and there. At this table sits the Asians. Those ones look like Spaniards. Michel is at the back, sitting at a booth with not one, two or even five, but nine girls. Just Michel and the girls. This was after one day of school, mind you. Gorgeous French and Spanish girls. How does he do that?

THE BREAKING NEWS

My students came home from camping. Mikhail, Daniel, and Emmanuel came in with bags of leftover food.

And they brought the French student.

My lost French boy has been found! Or rather, he was never lost. By yesterday I had started assuming he was with them. Boy am I glad my assumptions were correct. That would have been quite a nightmare otherwise.

Despite the slight scare I had, I am really happy that my students took Michel along with them. What a great welcome to a new and unknown house/city! They all came in exhausted and dirty, but with big smiles. Everyone said they had an awesome time.

Now I am off to take my 44-year-old Brazilian to CompUSA for his laptop purchase.

THE BRAZILIAN

Today my new student came! I am now the host father of a 44-year-old Brazilian man. A 44-year-old Brazilian man who has a wife and two kids.

He is nice and very low maintenance, which I love.

P.S. The French student is still gone! But I am beginning to believe he is with the other students. If he is, then I am pissed. How was I supposed to know? Talk about disrespectful, irresponsible, and inconsiderate. But mostly inconsiderate.

And they left a sink full of dirty dishes!

THE MISSING STUDENT, PART II

Please read THE MISSING STUDENT first.

I called 911 this morning. The helpful operator there recommended that I contact the county jail and the hospital. Michel was not at either one of those places, which could be a good thing, but I'm not sure. I sent a message out to Emmanuel, one of the three students camping, but he hasn't responded yet so I can't know if Michel decided to go with them or not.

I will ride my bike up and down State Street now, hoping that blind luck (and answered prayers) will guide me to Michel.

THE MISSING STUDENT

It is 1:30 in the morning and my 18-year-old French student is officially lost in Santa Barbara.

Last night when Michel arrived I gave him a key to my house and a map of the city. I circled our house on the map, showed him where the downtown area is, etc. I had to work this morning and Michel was very tired, so I knew I wouldn't see him until five o'clock or so. I wanted him to have the freedom to explore the city on his first day in America.

Well, what a first day in America this must be for him. It's cold outside. The map is still on the table. The Japanese student hasn't seen him.

When I came home from work this afternoon the new student wasn't home. I figured he must still be out, enjoying the good weather. When he didn't come home for dinner I was a little concerned, but not too bothered. My students don't have to be home for dinner. So I went to a friend's house for a while and came home at eleven.

Michel was not home. That was the moment that I knew something was wrong. Because NOBODY stays out until 11:00 without a map, phone, or friends on their first day in a new city. Nobody.

I called the EF emergency number and was simply told to wait until morning. If he is still missing we will take the next course of action (call the police?).

My only possible hope is that at the last minute he joined my three other students on their camping trip.

THE TARDY FRENCH

What is with the French and arriving late?! OK, so maybe it's not all French people. Maybe it's just my students.

My last French student was named Remi, and he was scheduled to fly into Los Angeles at around 5:30pm. It's about 2 hours from LAX to Santa Barbara, so taking into consideration customs and traffic, he was expected to arrive at my house at 9:00pm.

I got a call from Remi at 9:00. Still at LAX. He didn't see the shuttle bus that was supposed to pick him up. I told him I would call EF and find out what's up. I also told him to call me back in 15 minutes. So I called the emergency number for EF, talked with the staff lady who was unlucky enough to have the cell phone that night, and told her what Remi told me. She then tells me that the shuttle bus driver was waiting for three hours right outside of the gate for Remi and didn't see him. So the driver left. Which makes sense; that's about when Remi called me. The big mystery is What the heck was Remi doing from the time the airplane landed on time at 5:30pm until 9:00?? I never got to find out.

The EF emergency phone holder told me to tell Remi to wait right outside and the driver would come around for him again. Too bad Remi didn't have a phone. Just a payphone. He called me back... at 11:00pm! By now I don't know what to say. What was he doing for the past two hours? Why didn't he call me in 15 minutes like he said? He missed the bus, literally. The driver couldn't find him. And for this driver, it has been about five hours of waiting. So, he left. Naturally. In the middle of Remi's phone call we got disconnected. So I was done waiting, too. I had to substitute teach at 8 in the morning the next day! I figured he would find a hotel to stay in overnight and find a way to come to Santa Barbara tomorrow.

At four in the morning I heard loud knocking on my door. I was in some deep sleep and I think the knocking must have gone on for two or three minutes until it broke through my dreams and into my consciousness.

Remi paid a TAXI DRIVER 300 dollars for a fare from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara.

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Last night was not as bad. But my new French student, Michel, was supposed to arrive in Los Angeles at around 9pm, which meant he was supposed to arrive at my house at midnight. He came at 1:15am. Given Remi's whole ordeal, I was quite glad to see Michel at one in the morning.

THE DICTIONARY

Today Saiya asked me what the difference was between glimpse and glance. I started to answer him but soon found that this was impossible for me. I know how to use the words correctly and in the appropriate situations, but I simply could not form the right words to explain the difference between the two! It's like trying to define "the" or "of."

These students are learning English and it's hard! I think the worst enemy of the English-learning student is the Preposition. The most common mistake that I hear coming out of my students' mouths is mixing up these short little two and three-letter words. "I ride in the bus on my way at school." Stuff like that.

p.s. Want to know the difference between glimpse and glance?

"The nouns usually combine with different prepositions: I got a glimpse of her. I took a glance at her. The verbs differ in that glimpse is usually transitive, as in She glimpsed the mountain briefly through the clouds (although very rare intransitive uses also occur, as in She glimpsed at the mountain), whereas glance is almost always intransitive, as in He glanced at her as he went by; The stone glanced off the windshield." (from the Columbia Guide to Standard American English, 1993)

I still don't know either!

THE FAREWELL

Tonight I said goodbye to Fayez, the Saudi Arabian. He was with me for just a couple of months, but he felt like a fixture by now. He was very happy to be in my home, and said so often. He is taking a brief vacation in Saudi Arabia with his family, after which he will return to the States to study in Missouri, of all places.

Before he left he gave me a solid hug and a Saudi riyal, one of the currency notes in Saudi Arabia.

Goodbye Fayez! May you have a safe journey home and never forget the good things you've experienced here.

THE HOT RUSSIAN

Today I went to a little beach party held by some high schoolers I know from church-related functions. One of my best adult friends' son was there, and I told him I would drop by. Plus, free food!

After an hour I overheard someone say "Don't worry, Janelle [the host] isn't missing, she's just waiting for Mike. He's lost."

Then we talked about how it was impossible to get lost finding Ledbetter Beach. It's the only beach in front of Santa Barbara City College and it's a very long beach. Then someone said to me, "It your Mike, Phil."

My Mike?!

See, I brought Mikhail (the Russian) to Calvary Baptist's youth group last Wednesday, where he met some of the aforementioned high school students. Apparently Janelle invited Mikhail, aka "Mike," to this beach bash when they met last Wednesday.

And apparently she thought he was something of a catch and spoke to her friends about him, because as Mike approached the group, another girl said "That's Mike? Janelle exaggerated."

I didn't know whether to feel happy that someone thought Mikhail was cool and cute, sad that someone else didn't think he was all that attractive, or protective because someone was slightly insulting one of my students.

In the end it didn't matter. The critic changed her tune and within ten minutes was flirting unabashedly with my Mike.

THE SOLSTICE

Tonight two friends from church came over and brought along their mother's homemade chimichangas. We made Spanish rice, heated up some baked beans from my father's birthday yesterday, made a little salad, and enjoyed some excellent Mexican food. I love when friends come over for dinner! People always hear about my students but not everyone really gets to see them in living color, face-to-face, in their natural environment (my home). It's like going on a safari! Which nationality can you spot next??

Unfortunately, three of the five students ended up eating out, so it was just the Russian, the Japanese, the girls, and I. My, they were good chimichangas, though!

Yesterday was the Solstice parade, and boy was that colorful! Santa Barbara sure knows how to party fun. I encouraged all of my students to attend and I think most of them were down on State St. amidst the throngs of revelers. This is just a taste of what they got to see:

After the parade the city continued the festivities at Alameda Park. There were funk bands, drum circles, good food, and lots of dancing.

I got sunburned.

THE BROOM

"You will hit me with the broom."

What in the world? I am sitting here in the kitchen, relaxing at the end of a long day. I like to check my emails, Facebook, news, etc, and just unwind in front of the computer. The Swiss-German came in a bit drunk and started teasing the Russian. Daniel teases Mikhail sober, too, mind you. I ignore them and let them have their fun. I begin to hear rumbling sounds coming from various rooms of the house. Something falls in the bathroom. The bunk beds shake in the bedroom.

The Russian is so skinny and he is wearing boxer briefs and a t-shirt. He has daddy-long legs and braces and looks something like a character from a Tim Burton animation. After five minutes of rough-housing I hear Mikhail outside of the bathroom talking to Daniel who is inside the bathroom. Daniel says "I will stop. I am tired."

And Mikhail says in his thick Russian accent, word-for-word:

"You will hit me with the broom."

What kind of circus am I running around here?! Earlier, to pay for laundry, Emmanuel gave me two dollars in pennies and nickels that he had lying around.

THE CONVERSATIONS WE HAVE

Last night, as we dined on chicken quesadillas and "ranch style" beans, Mikhail (the Russian) asked me what sounds animals make in America. Dogs go "bow-wow" as opposed to vow-vow in German. Horses sound the same in Russian and English. When asked about a rooster I said "cock-a-doodle-doo." Daniel and Mikhail laughed loudly at this. Roosters go "ki-kiri-ki" in Russian (and Spanish, too!).

New student: Seiya, from Japan. He's 19 and has been in Santa Barbara for about three weeks already. He is moving to my house from the dorms around the corner. Apparently there is way too much drinking, noise, and "destroying" going on over there. "Destroying?" I asked. Yes, destroying.

Seiya is pretty cool. When I asked him to pronounce his name slowly, he said "Say... Yah!" And pumped his fist in the air with the second syllable! I like him already-- too bad he is only staying in my home for his last 10 days in the States.

THE GOSSIP

I'm back from camping. It was an awesome weekend, thanks for asking! I saw some pretty talented bands and I played some mean games of footbag (hackey sack, for the uninformed).

My students are all more or less back from their adventures this weekend. Although, and this is no surprise, Fayez and Daniel, the two oldest students, are still out. They stay out with friends so late so often that I almost never see them come home at night. It's 1:45 am right now and they are still gone. In town, but not in house, if you know what I mean.

From Emmanuel, referring to his weekend travels: "It was the best trip so far." Emmanuel and Mikhail, the Swiss and the Russian, both said Las Vegas was awesome (even though the most they could do was simply look at the casinos). I guess all the bright lights and sequins touched something inside of them. Pst! Here's a secret, friends: All that glitters is not gold.

And now, the reason you are all here: the gossip. While I was gone this weekend, I received a call from the Housing Department at the language school. They were calling to inform me that the Vietnamese students would be leaving tomorrow, Monday. That's a week earlier than expected!

As soon as I heard that message I immediately understood two things. One thing bitter and one thing sweet. The sweetness is relief! Relief from nagging relatives. Relief from emails and calls and general invasion of my life when I don't want it to be invaded. It is never the host family's duty to field calls for their students; to act as some sort of personal secretary between the parents and child. That would be way above and beyond my responsibilities as stated in our contracts.

Which brings me to my bitter point: I failed to go above and beyond my call of duty. The mother of one of the students must have called the school and asked to have her kid and his companion moved to another home. Isn't that sad?? I've had plenty of students move into my house from other houses, and they've all really enjoyed being here. I offer them lots of freedom, proximity to the school, and decent food.

To have a student leave my house is tantamount to having that special someone break up with me. Inadequacies surface. Doubt and guilt creep in. My ego is hurt. I get defensive.

But to be honest, and this is neither good or bad, just the way things are, I am not a suitable host father for 11 and 12 year-olds. If you were born after 1995, I am not your man. I'm too busy to babysit, too busy to give you three hours of my time every day. Definitely too busy to be talking to parents.

On the other hand, if you happen to be older than 16, you will love my house. You will have five instant friends. You will taste mashed potatoes, pancakes, and chicken quesadillas (not all at the same time). You will meet Americans your own age. You will leave Santa Barbara with a vow in your heart to return again. Soon.

Here's an exciting mystery: Tomorrow, sometime after the Vietnamese students leave, I will be receiving a NEW student! I don't know who, how old, and where from, but I'll let you know when I find out :)

THE CHECK-IN

Remember to check in LATE Sunday night or anytime on Monday to hear how the students behaved over the weekend. Although I suppose I should say student, since there is apparently only ONE student staying home this weekend. When I checked in with Allie last, it sounded like five of the six students will be gone. The Russian and two Swiss gents are taking an excursion with a tour company to Las Vegas (for 210 dollars, includes travel and hotel). The funny thing about the Las Vegas trip is that all three boys are under 21 years old. That leaves sight seeing and age-appropriate shows. No gambling!

The Vietnamese are visiting their relatives in and around the greater Los Angeles area. Again.

And that leaves Fayez.

Remember, comments are nice :) It's like a conversation!

THE SUBSTITUTE

This weekend I am going out of town. You may have asked yourself at some point while considering all the joys and trials of Hosting Foreign Students, "What if Phil wants to go away for a while?" Sometimes I definitely want to get away. :) Retreating is good, and healthy in my opinion. This weekend, for example, I'll be camping at the Live Oak Music festival with my sister and dad.

If am ever absent for more than two days I need to have someone substitute in for me. In the past it has been my good friend Beau. He's an artist. I have had my mom come and cook a meal for a couple of nights if I will be gone for a short weekend.

The next three days a great girl Allie is going to be taking my place at the homestead. Last night at the dinner table I told the guys (six of them) that a 20 year old girl would be there for the weekend and they all sat up, interests and libidos piqued. The Swiss guy quipped: "Is she nice?" [yes] "I'm not going to Las Vegas now."

I'm always interested in hearing how things went while I was gone. One time a student came home so drunk they thought he had alcohol poisoning, and Emmanuel had to put him in a safe position to pass out without harming himself in his sleep.

Hopefully it won't be that bad, Allie!

THE SAUDI

Last night I was talking to Fayez, my Saudi Arabian student. He is my oldest student at 25 years old.

We were talking about his home and city, Riyadh. He wants me to come visit him out there and marry his sister. Tempting, but can anyone say Cultural Differences? He mentioned his 15 siblings and I said, like you just did, "What?!" Then I continued in that vein, "You didn't tell me you had 15 brothers and sisters! I thought you had like three or four." See, I told him one time that I thought most Saudis were rich, and how I heard they all have a Mercedes Benz. Obviously that is not true, but he proceeded to tell me that his car is a Lexus, his brother's car is a Lexus, his other brother's car is a Mercedes, his dad owns a Mercedes, and I think his sister has an Infinity or something like that. I guess I thought he had covered all his siblings.

Apparently not.

Then, get this. Oh man. I never ceased to be amazed. THEN he says "Yeah man. I have 11 siblings from one mother and 5 from my other mother. My father has two wives." His dad has two wives! In one house! An "older wife and a younger one." I was floored. Still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that he has 15 brothers and sisters. Then he just drops the mother bomb on me with his father's two wives. I mean, do you know ANYONE who has two spouses?? After discussion I calculated that his father has been making babies for about 30 years now.

Fayez hiding in some roses.

THE HOT WATER (AND FREEDOM)

Hi folks! So I was a little bit bored and a lotta bit inspired yesterday to make some promotional material for my blog. It's really exciting to know people are reading this stuff (note to other bloggers: get a page counter), so I want to keep the rush going and promote the blog even more. These pictures will be going up on myspace.com and facebook.com

In household news, the Vietnamese asked me how to make hot water today. So I put water in a pan and put it on the stove. Then I turned on the fire. :) They asked me how long the water should be heated, and I told them "until it gets hot." They laughed at this. I'm not sure how it works in Vietnam, but I think they are just unsure of how much freedom they have within the household. Case in point: On Sunday one of the Vietnamese came home after spending the weekend with relatives in Los Angeles. Three other students were out and about. The student asked "Where are other students, when they are not with relatives?"

I was surprised at the question! I didn't know how to respond at first. They are outside. They are with friends. They are at the movies, at the coffee shops, at the shopping shops. They are at the beach and in the mountains. On bikes, on surfboards, in cars (rented, of course). "Where are the other students..." as though the only alternative to traveling with family is to stay inside the house! I hope that in the next two weeks they are here, the Vietnamese will recognize the freedom they have and explore a little. For their sake, not mine. I want my students to leave Santa Barbara excited about life!

Then again, they are only 11 and 12 years old.

THE JAPANESE STUDENT

Today I said goodbye to a beloved student of mine, Takeshi (Japan). He has been with me the longest so far: since September 20th! He is of the "old generation," maintaining the memory of classic students like Mario (dated a Costa Rican bikini model while he was here and was voted "Mr. EF" by his classmates and peers), Enthony (the growing Swiss boy who once ate 12 hotdogs in one sitting), Filippo (tasted pancakes for the first time in my house, and was exuberant about everything in Santa Barbara), and Dong Soo (lost over 1000 dollars at the Chumash Casino during his time here). Not too many of my current students know those guys.

Not only is Takeshi old school, but he was a favorite of a lot of my friends. Anyone who had the good fortune to meet him always had great things to say about Takeshi :)

I think what makes Takeshi so special is his gentle spirit. He always seems to care about the people around him, whether he is offering the first plate of food to another person or noticing Katie's haircut when she stops by a month later. He doesn't demand anything. I like that.

We'll miss you Takeshi! Have a great trip home and I'm sure I'll see you again :)

THE NIGHT HIKE



In order to maintain my status as the "cool young host dad," I make sure I introduce my students to stuff they wouldn't normally experience on their own. Usually that means I invite them to things that I am already doing, like my birthday party last weekend.

Tonight, my 14-year-old Russian student and my two Swiss students joined me on my adventures! The youth group I sometimes spend time with went to Lizard's Mouth, a rocky hiking/climbing spot in the foothills above Santa Barbara. Jon Bancroft, the youth pastor over at Calvary Baptist Santa Barbara likes to take his group on awesome outdoor adventures: biking, white water rafting, rock climbing, snowboarding, etc. These adventures are great alternatives to what a lot of their peers are experiencing on a Friday night.

We watched the sun setting over the hills, tried some small bouldering challenges, and played Sardines (a game similar to Hide-and-Seek)! It was good fun, and the consensus on the ride back was that "it was great! Totally awesome." Smiles all around!

P.S. Can you guess who is Swiss and who is Russian?

THE ALARM CLOCK

Last night one of the Vietnamese students politely asked me if I could wake him at 7:30 this morning because they did not bring an alarm clock. That's not too much of a problem since I have to leave my house at 8:30 to substitute every day this week. And it makes me fondly remember my days in Spain last year when my host father would knock on my door every morning at about 7:30am. BAM BAM! Two loud knocks and that was it.

So this morning I quietly open the door to the room and loudly whisper "Hey! Get up!" I am loudly whispering because there is a third sleeping student in the room, Daniel. He's from Switzerland (the German part). Neither of the Vietnamese move an inch. And the student on the top bunk is sleeping in his clothes! He's still got on his jeans and buttoned-up collared shirt (still tucked-in, I presume). So I come closer and tap the one on the bottom bunk. He seems to be the leader of the two, and I figure I just need to wake up one of them to take care of both. Tapping doesn't work. I shake him. Actually grip his shoulder and shake him. Is he dead? I cannot fathom ever sleeping that hard. He is more motionless than a sleeping rock. After speaking, tapping, shaking, and finally removing the pillow from beneath his head, I give up. I begin to think he must be awake and is simply letting me know silently that he wants to keep on sleeping. Fine.

At 8:10 while I am having breakfast the two are still sleeping. I decided to give it one last effort and I enter the room again. The pillow is still at the kid's feet and he is still in his coma. So I try the top bunk. This student wakes up after a rousing shake on the shoulder and so I go back to the kitchen. I kid you not, about 15 seconds later I hear the most incredible shaking of the bed you could possibly imagine. It was like a magnitude 8 earthquake visited the back-left room of my house. At first I thought the top-bunk student was just climbing down and being really noisy, but then I realized that he was shaking his companion from the depths of unconsciousness for about 5 good long seconds.

Apparently that worked, because 10 minutes later they were out the door into a sun-filled world of English and big cars.

THE PARENTS

At the rate this is going, I will receive about 80 phone calls from the parents (and Uncles!) of the Vietnamese students throughout the 27 days they are staying with me. For some reason, I just don't want to talk to them. I got a call from Vietnam tonight at about 10pm. How did I know it was from Vietnam? Country code +84

I think the reason I don't want to talk to the relatives is because What am going to say to them?! It makes me tired just thinking about assuaging the restless hearts of mothers abroad. The conversation will most likely sound like this:

CVM (Concerned Vietnamese Mother): Umm, hello, Mr. Phil?
THD (Tired Host Daddy): Yes, this is Phil.
CVM: Hello, I am _____ , Vinh Anh's mother.
THD: Hi. How are you?
CVM: I am well, thank you. I hope my son is behaving himself for you! He is very young, and he has never been to America before.
THD: Oh, he is very nice. He is quiet, but very nice. I have no problems with him.
CVM: We want him to call us. He has not called his father yet. He has not sent email.

..... And so on.

I know, I know. The best solution is probably taking just one phone call like this and making the parents happy. But I am a stubborn mule.