I almost missed the ad while rushing out of the grocery store after a long day of work. Tucked away in a corner of the bulletin board near the exit door was a small poster with the headline Earn Extra Income Hosting a Foreign Exchange Student. I paused for a moment, then pulled my cart closer to the board to read the message:
Earn money while helping a foreign student expand their cultural horizons. There's no better way to learn a new language and appreciate other cultures than to live with someone from another part of the world. By hosting a young person from a different country, you promote friendship, understanding, and cooperation in your home and community. Welcome a foreign exchange student into your home today and open the door to an exciting new world of experiences. Contact exchangehost.com for more info.
After reading the ad, I suddenly became aware of how hard my heart was pounding in my chest. I'd lived alone after separating from my husband more than two years ago, and my big house had become far too quiet and lonely. Having never had children of my own, the idea of hosting a young person from another country seemed a perfect fit. I'd have someone to liven up my daily routine while helping the student develop a sense of independence in an exciting new environment.
When I got home, I went to the agency's website and read everything I could about the program. The more I learned, the more excited I became. I wasn't interested in the small monthly stipend I'd earn hosting the student so much as the sense of adventure taking in a boarder from a different country. It would be an opportunity to share cultural experiences, improve my foreign language skills, and make new friendships.
The following morning, I called first thing to book an appointment for an interview. When I got to their office, the receptionist escorted me into the director's suite where a smartly dressed woman in her fifties invited me to make myself comfortable while she took a seat in the opposite armchair.
"Welcome, Ms. Robertson," she said. "My name is Elise Laurent, the director of Exchange Host student exchange services. What brings you to our office today?"
"I'm interested in hosting a foreign exchange student," I said.
"I see you're here by yourself. Do you live alone?"
"Yes," I said, crossing my legs defensively. "Do you accept applications from single women?"
"Of course," she said. "It all depends on the individual's circumstances and motivation. Our primary concern is finding a safe and supportive environment for our clients. May I ask what attracts you to our program?"
"I saw an ad for your services at the supermarket. I've never had any children, and I like the idea of helping a young person supplement their education in a different country. With so much conflict and misunderstanding between countries and cultures, this seems an ideal way to foster better communication and friendship."
"You seem primarily focused on the benefits to the student," the director nodded. "What advantages do you see for you, personally?"
"It's not about the money, if that's what you mean. I'd do it for free, if that were an option. I live alone and work from home, so I have limited opportunity for social interaction. To be honest, I think it would be fun to have someone else to share my house with. Especially a young person who I could foster and take under my wing. I could take her shopping, go out to restaurants, visit national parks–it could be fun for both of us."
"So you're looking to host a female student only?"
"Not necessarily. I'd consider either gender, but I think it would be more fun hosting a girl."
The director nodded, scribbling some notes on a notepad.
"You say money isn't a consideration. May I ask what you do for a living?"
"I'm a freelance graphic artist. I help develop ads, logos, websites, and media campaigns for corporate clients."
"Do you own your home?"
"I guess technically the bank owns it until the mortgage is paid off," I chuckled. "But yes, I'm the sole title owner."
"Umm," the director hummed, scribbling some more notes. "Do you have an extra room and bath available for another occupant?"
"Yes," I said. "Frankly, that's another reason I'm considering this. My house is far too large for one person. I'll feel better making better use of the extra space and helping the environment by wasting less."
"Um-hmm," the Ms. Laurent nodded. "And you feel you'll have enough free time away from your work and other responsibilities to give your charge proper attention and care? It's not like taking in a boarder–these students will need oversight and companionship. They'll be a long way from home in a whole new environment. It's more akin to a foster parent situation."
"Absolutely," I said. "Being self-employed means I can make my own hours and work around my guest's schedule. I'm looking forward to taking her under my wing and making a new friend. Like I said, I'm not doing it for the money."
"Okay," the woman said, putting down her notepad. "We'll need you to fill in an application and provide three references. Then I'll need your approval to run a criminal record check and credit check. If everything pans out, we'll begin contacting you with possible candidates to find a good fit. The whole process can take two or three months and with a new school year approaching, you'll need to get started soon."
"Sounds good," I said, rising from my chair and extending my hand. "Thank you for your time and assistance, Ms. Laurent. I'll look forward to hearing back from you at your earliest opportunity. Let me know if you need any more information in the meantime."
"It's been my pleasure," she said. "Thank you for your interest in our program. I think you'll find this experience enriching and rewarding on both sides. My assistant will help you with the paperwork. We'll be in touch soon."
* * *
After filling in the application, I drove home with a sense of excitement wondering who the agency would find to connect me with. I had no idea what age, sex, or nationality the student would be and that was part of the attraction. It would be a whole new experience for both of us. But after a few weeks of not hearing from the agency, I began to wonder if they were having second thoughts about my candidacy. I'd checked with my references who told me they’d already been contacted, and I knew there wouldn't be any issues with my background or credit check, so with only a few weeks left before the start of the new school year, I placed a call to the director.
"Exchange Host," the receptionist said, answering the phone.
"May I speak with Ms. Laurent?" I said.
"May I ask who's calling?"
"My name is Jade Robertson. I had an interview with Ms. Laurent a couple of months ago and haven't heard back. I was just hoping for an update."
"One moment please," the receptionist said.
"Hello, Ms. Robertson," the director said when she picked up her extension.
"I'm sorry to bother you," I said. "But I haven't heard back from you and I know we're getting close to the start of another academic year. I was wondering if you had any problems with my application or if you'd vetted any potential candidates."
"No," the director said. "Your application came through with flying colors. Unfortunately, it was processed a bit late and all of the hosting spots for the new school year have been filled."
"That's disappointing to hear," I said. "So I guess I'll have to wait another year for consideration?"
"Not necessarily," she said. "We have a number of students who seek to transfer mid-year. There may be another opportunity as we approach the end of the first semester. We'll contact you if anything becomes available."
"Okay, thank you, Ms. Laurent."
I hung up, feeling dejected about prematurely getting my hopes up. The closer we'd gotten to the start of the school year, the more excited I'd become about having a new housemate. Now I'd have to wait a whole other year to have the opportunity to host a student.
For a while, I considered putting an ad in the local university newspaper offering a room for board, but I knew it wouldn't be the same. There was something about taking in a young international student that added an extra allure for me. I'd have the chance to nurture someone who really depended on me while we explored each other's language and culture. In the end, I decided to hold off, hoping to try again next year.
But much to my surprise, I received a message from Ms. Laurent a couple of months later indicating that she had a new candidate lined up for the spring semester. I picked up the phone and called her immediately.
"Hello, Ms. Laurent," I said excitedly when she picked up the phone. "It's Jade Robertson. I got your message regarding a possible candidate for the spring semester, and I'm still interested."
"That's wonderful news," she said. "We're ready to finalize the placement if you're sure you're ready to proceed."
"Absolutely," I said, still catching my breath.
"Would you like to view the student's profile before making a final commitment? We can send it to you via email if you prefer."
I paused for a moment, hearing my heart pounding in my chest. As eager as I was for more details, I couldn't wait for the most important information.
"That would be helpful, thank you," I said. "Can you tell me if it's a boy or a girl, and from which country they'll be transferring?"
"It's a girl who'll be completing the final semester for her senior year. She's transferring in from France."
France, I thought, feeling my heart skip a beat. I'd always wanted to travel there and learn to speak the language, but had never found the time. This would be my chance to learn more about their culture by experiencing it in a whole different way.
"That sounds exciting," I said. "When will she be arriving, and are there any final preparation requirements?"
"She's due to arrive January twenty-third, the weekend between first and second semester. The only other preparation requirement is a final in-home interview to ensure you have sufficient accommodation and resources to care for your guest. We can arrange a convenient time to visit next week if that will work for you."
"That's perfect. How about Wednesday at one p.m.? Thank you for keeping me in the queue for consideration with this placement."
"My pleasure, Ms. Robertson. I'll look forward to seeing you next Wednesday. Bye for now."
* * *
Later that day, I received the student profile via email. When I opened it, the first thing I saw was a single headshot photo. It was a bit grainy, but she looked pretty and fresh-faced, with wavy blonde hair and bright blue-green eyes. Her name was Luna, and she lived in Saint Denis, a suburb of Paris. She listed her hobbies as yoga, skiing, and dressmaking. Her father was an engineer and her mother was a nurse. She had two siblings, an older sister and a younger brother. Her career interests were international relations and fashion design.
Perfect, I thought. We can exercise together, go skiing on weekends, and we both have an interest in women's fashion. It sounded like a match made in heaven.
After successfully passing the home inspection and knowing I'd have a girl as my guest, I went about decorating her room like I was expecting a newborn baby. I went out and bought a new work desk and bookshelf at Ikea and new towels and linens from Bed, Bath, and Beyond. The closer I got to her arrival date, the more excited I became about having my new houseguest. For the next four or five months, I knew my life would never be the same...
