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 :)