There is a saying, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

And one that reminds a person, “A friend in need is a friend indeed.”

Still another…. “One good deed will lead to thousands more of blessings.”

“Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.”

Most of you readers do not…..and probably will not…..have this experience. But, who knows? Maybe some of my experiences can be applied other situations in life. For like the old saying, quoted above goes: No good deed goes unpunished. Or, at least, it does not turn out like you thought it would…..or had intended it would.

Almost everybody who knows me is aware that I have hosted several foreign exchange students……and after I retired that I have hosted a wide variety of adult foreign guests. I first started hosting foreign exchange students more or less by accident….or at least, coincidence.

The year was 1992. I was the cross-country coach at Valley Falls High School at the time. A couple foreign exchange students had gone out for cross-country….and had done quite well. In fact, they may have been the best runners I had in their respective years. One summer afternoon, as I was walking out of the post office, I happened to meet the host parents of both of these boys. I asked if they had gotten back to their homes safely….and about their general welfare. Just polite small talk.

During the course of the conversation, they suggested that maybe I would like to host a foreign exchange students for the following school year. I immediately dismissed the idea as being impractical…..and somewhat confining. Actually, I wasn’t even aware that a single person could be a host to an exchange student. They persisted….telling me how much I would enjoy it….and how badly host parents were needed…..and how much they had enjoyed the experience…..how interesting and rewarding it would be.

“Well, just let the area coordinator come out and talk to you. Then you can ask her all your questions and make up your mind.”

OK,” I said very reluctantly. But, on the other hand, I told myself that I really had nothing to lose. So I agreed to let them contact the area coordinator and set up an appointment. In the meantime, I spent several hours cleaning the house. I wanted to make a semi-good impression. At least, I didn’t want to appear to be some sort of bum.
On the appointed evening, at the appointed time, the area coordinator drove into my driveway. She lost no time in spelling out all the advantages of hosting an exchange student. She seemed to answer my questions in a satisfactory manner.

“OK,” I thought. “Maybe this will work out.” I quickly filled an application form, using my friends as a reference. And, I asked her if she would like to take a look at the house. I thought she seemed just a little startled. But, Yes…..she would like to see it. She had BETTER look at it! After all the time I had spent cleaning it. She took a perfunctory look at the potential student’s room…..and said, “Yes….that looks very nice.” Thanks a lot….I am glad you approve.

“When can I choose my student?” I asked. “Right now,” she said. Upon saying that, she pulled a sheet of paper from her brief case and handed it to me. There were the names and a short….very short….description of TWO potential students. This was the first time I had done anything like this, so I didn’t think anything was strange. Both the students were from Germany.

Before going any further, let me interject something here. Later on, I also became an area coordinator for one of the foreign exchange student organizations. They flooded me with resumes…..and student profiles. I had literally dozens of students to show to prospective host parents. Boys and girls from all around the globe……each printed on a separate sheet of paper.

But, that evening, I had only two students from which to choose. With such sparse information to make a decision…..I simply arbitrarily pointed at one of them. “I will take this one.”

She told me she would have a decision within three days. The general rule is: If a student is selected by a married couple, the student has no choice. They must accept….or simply not be selected. If a student is selected by a single person, they can decide if they want to accept….or if they do not want to accept.

As fate would have it, I was leaving the next day for a trip to Colorado. The area coordinator gave her telephone number to me, and we arranged a time for me to call her from my motel room.

Obviously, the student accepted. And, now I was officially the host to my first foreign exchange student. One interesting little related story: The second student….the one that I did not select….turned out to be the best friend of the student that I chose. They had been life long friends and had attended the same high school.

All of this took place in a day and age before there was Internet….at least, in Valley Falls. Had there been Internet at the time, I could have….and would have….done tons of research on exchange students before making a decision. But…..it was probably a good thing there wasn’t Internet. I made a decision on the spot….using some sort of instinct or inner feeling. And, I made the right choice. One that started me on an interesting and rewarding path to hosting many more fascinating and delightful guests.

But, as the quotes above suggest…..sometimes things are not as transparent and straightforward as they might appear.

First of all, I will say that I have seven foreign exchange students live with me…..each for a ten months period. In all honesty, I can say that on a scale of 1 – 10, five of these students would rate as 10’s. The other two? Well, I am sort of reluctant to assign a numerical ranking. Both of them were great kids….we got along well….no problems. But, on the other hand, there was no “chemistry”.

And…..there were three students that did not work out. I simply kicked two of them out. It was apparent from the first few days that things were not going to work out. So, I cut the misery short…..for both of us…..and requested they be transferred.

The third one? Sort of a sad story. He was from Poland….which probably has no relevance at all. Looking back, I have no idea why I chose him. I don’t know if I was drunk….or whether I had been smoking something! But, why he ever ended up in my house remains a mystery.

When I first met him, I was a little startled. His appearance was nothing like the picture on his profile. And, as I describe him, I am in no way trying to be cruel. He was a stocky kid….wore very thick glasses. Quite often it was difficult to tell when he was looking at me. And he had a mustache, a rather unusual feature for a high school student. I had no problem accepting all these physical features. To me….appearance is somewhat irrelevant. It is their human characteristics and traits that are important.

If he had merely lived at my house for ten months…..without mingling with the public…..probably everything would have been OK. But, the problems was: He had to go to school. And, it is an unfortunate…..but sadly true….fact that high school students can be very judgmental. And, this is true even in a small high town like Valley Falls. And, maybe especially in a small town like Valley Falls. Students in a small high school have attended class together for the past several years: some of them the entire 13 years they have gone to school. They have grown accustomed to each other. They have developed their own expectations of each other….their own rituals…..their own set of values. Small town kids sometimes have a problem accepting anything different….anything they haven’t seen or experienced before.

This seemed to be the case with the Polish student. Yes…..he was different. Not only the thick glasses and the mustache. He had some other quirks that also set him apart from the “norm” and made him stand out.

I remember a meeting that the area coordinator had for all the students and host parents soon after he arrived. It so happened that her family had a swimming pool. While we host parents were having our own meeting, the exchange students were invited to go swimming. I was startled when I saw him emerge from the changing room wearing a pair of short…short-short….bikini swimming trunks. Everybody’s eyes got a little wider…both parents and students. Eyebrows were raised…..and there were a few shocked snickers. High school kids in small town simply do not wear this kind trunks. Unless perhaps you are on a swim team….on in the Olympics! I was embarrassed….but there was nothing I could do about it. Here was this stocky Polish kid….wearing thick glasses and a mustache…..wearing a pair of Michael Phelps swimming trunks. Except he certainly was not Michael Phelps.

I already knew, even at this early date…..just a couple days after he arrived….that he was going to be “different” from an other students I had hosted.

He immediately started having little problems with his high school classmates. I suspect they simply didn’t know what to think of him. Most high school students carry their books and belongings in a back pack. This kid carried a briefcase. A real brief case…..just like the ones that lawyers and accountants carry. Most high school students wear a jacket or coat of some sort. This guy apparently brought one sweater with him….the kind of sweater that buttons down the front. It probably looked more like a shirt that it did a “jacket”. I am not sure what they are called. Personally, I do not own one. He wore this same sweater to school each and every day…….over a perfectly good clean shirt. But the students started noticing it…..

It wasn’t long before his classmates started some mild teasing….probably testing him more than anything else. If he had met their remarks and teasing with good-natured laughter…..or some self-deprecating remarks…..they would probably have stopped their teasing. But….this was not his personality. He became defensive. That raised the stakes. Now the teasing became more relentless.

Here at home…..Well, we tolerated each other. He was the only student who never attended a K.U. basketball game with me; he is the only student who did not go to the YMCA with me. In fact, he is the only student who didn’t do anything with me. It was sort of an armed truce. When I was in the front room watching TV….he went to his room or to my office to mess around with the computer. When I went to my office….he went to the front room or his bedroom. Somehow, I got the feeling that he didn’t exactly enjoy being around me!

The closest that we came to actual hostility were the times he would use my computer…..and change the keyboard to Polish characters!! And, then not change them back to English! After a couple times, this became rather annoying. I rather forcefully told him that either he change everything on the computer back to the way he found it, or he would no longer be able to use the computer. I tried to say it as nicely as possible……although there is a possibility that he did not interpret it this way…..due to the tone and inflection of my voice.

He would often ride the school bus home….to avoid riding home with me, I suppose. One afternoon not too long after he arrived, I arrived home to find that he had turned on the air-conditioner. That was OK. I didn’t mind. It was truly hot outside. Except…..every window and door in the house was wide open! I am assuming that he did not have air-conditioning in Poland. Either that….or they had an outrageous electricity bill!

One Saturday I got on the riding lawn mower and started to mow the grass…..all 1.5 acres of it. I rather like to mow. It gives me a chance to think and reflect. He came outside and motioned for me to stop.

“Please….will you show me how to mow. I want to mow.”

OK…..I went through the steps. Showed him how to raise and lower the blade. How to stop….and all of that good stuff. I told him to climb on…..and I showed him which gear to use. They are numbered….so this is not a very difficult concept to master. I instructed him to leave the lawn mower in that gear. “Do not change it!”

“OK? Got it?” I stood and watched him for a couple rounds….and decided that I had done a good job of explaining the process to him. After all….I am a teacher! I went back inside the house. About 15 or 20 minutes later, I went outside again to check on his progress. Wow….I couldn’t believe my eyes! He was sailing up and down the lawn in the highest gear….careening around corners…..almost like he was a NASCAR driver.

“Get off the lawnmower!” I told him. And, this was the end of his lawn mowing experience….at least, at my house.

Every week the area coordinator would call to check on his progress. After talking to me, she would ask to talk to the student. I was never sure what was being said because he always took the telephone into his bedroom. But, I could hear him shouting into the telephone….his voice ascending a couple notes on the scale as he continued his shouting match. When he finished, he would calmly bring the telephone back to the front room.

“What did you guys talk about? I would ask him.
“Nothing……” he would reply….and go back to his room.

One Friday evening in mid-December, the telephone rang. I answered it. It was his area coordinator. She told me they were removing him from the school and from my home. It was just is not working out, she said. She asked if she could talk to the student. I handed the telephone to him. From his end, all I could hear was, “OK….Ok…..”

When the conversation ended he handed the telephone back to me. “Can you have him at the bus depot in Topeka at 9:00 tomorrow morning?”

Well….No. Actually, I couldn’t. The next day was Saturday, and I was in charge of the grade school Intramural program. It was a scheduled activity….and I was being paid to do it. “Can you find somebody else to take him down?”

I called one of my cross-country runners…..who was also one of my volunteer high school coaches for the Intramural program. He agreed to come out and pick him up and take him to Topeka. Saturday morning, I went into town to do my job. About 10:00 or 10:30, he came walking into the gym. Of course, everybody started asking him where he had been. When he said, “I took (this student) to the bus.” Everybody started cheering! So, the area-coordinator undoubtedly made a good decision in removing him from our high school.

She never volunteered to tell me what happened to him. And, I didn’t ask. I am assuming the shipped him back home….although I have no actual evidence of this. His twin sister, who was also an exchange student somewhere in the USA, was also having many problems. I suspect that both of them were reunited in Poland in time for Christmas!

That, was the only incident I had of an exchange student being removed from my home and from school without me requesting it. But……there have been other interesting experiences with some of the adult guests who have stayed here…..or wanted to stay here.

I always like to make clear that I got into this “business” of hosting guests knowingly and voluntarily. I was reluctant….and a bit skeptical….at first, but I quickly came to enjoy it…..and to realize that it added another dimension to my life.

Through the years, I have become a member of three or four hospitality organizations. Let me give you a general description of some of the requirements and expectations.

The most common breed is the “hospitality exchange” organization. It is sort of a “quid pro quo”. I let you stay at my house when you are traveling……and, in turn, you let me stay at your house when I am traveling. The room is always free. That is the major advantage for the traveler. The food and transportation are not necessarily provided in the agreement…..but can be discussed and negotiated between the two parties. This is only type of organization that I have actually reciprocated. And, even then, I have never actually stayed in somebody’s house. But…..it has been a welcome and pleasant and appreciated arrangement when I have traveled in Germany. Even though I have always rented my own apartment, I have had several local people who have served as guides and companions while I was there. All of these people were fascinating……and ranged from a retired teacher who was a member of an all-cello orchestra; the former director of the youth division of the STASI of East Berlin; a bitter retired banker whose parents and siblings has been died at the hands of the Nazis; and a very bright PhD physics candidate whose wife was a mid-wife. All of these people showed us an element of Berlin that we would have otherwise never seen.

The second type of hospitality organization with which I have been involved deals with foreign nationals who want to come to the USA, live with an American family, and improve their English-speaking fluency and comprehension. There are both free sites, where the two parties deal directly with each other. And, there are sites in which the foreigner must pay a fee to the agency for access to contact information. These organizations are strictly commercial businesses. Quite frankly, I don’t see how they manage to exist, especially considering all the free sites which are available. But…..they do exist. And, believe me…..they guard contact information rigorously. Just try to slip an e-mail address….or s Skype contact name…..or Facebook name….or even your last name (!) into a messages…..and it is immediately censored out. And, until the foreign guest has paid the necessary fees….ALL communication takes place through the agency. One agency threatened to bar me from their site because they thought I was trying to trick them and slyly slip personal information into my messages. OK….Yes I was. But, I just disliked the fact people were paying to obtain my contact information when they could easily get it for free…..if they only knew where.

In my case, I usually do not charge “rent”, but I do ask each guest to pay for the food they eat. In other words, they pay about half of the grocery bill while they are here. If we eat out, which we often do, they are expected to pay for their own food. To me….this seems like a very fair and workable arrangement. The only extra cost for me when other people stay here is the cost of food. It really doesn’t cost any more for two or three additional people to stay here in terms of electricity, or heat, or water. The lights are still going to be on; I am still going to watch TV; the house still must be heated or cooled.

But….it does cost more for food. Thus far, all of my visiting guests have found this arrangement to be satisfactory. In fact, many of the guests simply take over the kitchen and prepare food from their own country. This is one of the delicious advantages of hosting foreign guests.
There are times that situations are not exactly what they appear to be……or they work out differently that I had envisioned them.

One example that comes to mind took place a few years ago. I got an e-mail message from an Egyptian student who was attending K. State. (This should have been a forewarning in itself!) In the message he stated that he was working on his doctoral dissertation in economics. Would it be possible, he wondered, if I could meet him in Topeka so we could sit and visit…..and he could improve his English? Since this is one of the primary objectives of the hosting program, I readily agreed that it would be possible to meet him in Topeka to carry on a conversation in English.

We made arrangements to meet each other at a restaurant on Wanamaker Blvd. on a Friday afternoon. Having never met the guy before, I had no idea what he looked like. I suppose I thought he looked like an Egyptian….whatever they look like. Since my pictureappears in my online profile, I was rather sure that he would recognize me. I arrived at the designated restaurant on this cold Friday afternoon and stood near the entrance. Sure enough, a man soon walked up to me and asked if I was Beryl? Well, I am sure he didn’t say “Beryl”. None of them ever do. But, it was close enough that I was pretty sure he was looking for me. At least, the name is called me started with a “B”.

He ordered some food and a drink. I don’t remember what it was. We sat down at a table and began to make some pleasant, but inconsequential, small talk. He already spoke fairly good English…..a result of having lived in the U.S.A. for a number of years while working in his PhD. After a while, I told him that I had probably better leave for home, since I did not like to drive at night. We stood up…..and I fully expected him to thank me for meeting him…..and to ask if we could possibly meet again. But, as I turned to leave, he said, “OK. I will see you on Monday afternoon.”

“OK,” I replied. I could meet him again on Monday, I suppose.

“Don’t buy any food. I will bring all the food with me.”

“What?” I managed to stammer, taken by surprise.

“I will be staying for a week or two.”

I was rather stunned. But, before I could think of an intelligent reply,

he was already on his way to his car. Driving home, I very much considered writing him an e-mail message to tell him that it would not be possible for me to host him. But…..there had been a serious case of misunderstanding…..on both ends of the situation. He assumed that I knew he wanted to come and stay at my house. I assumed that he only wanted to meet in Topeka on a recurring as basis so he could practice his English.

And….no…..I didn’t tell him that he couldn’t come. And….yes….he arrived on Monday. Not only did he arrive…..he practically moved in with me. But, that is another story for another time.

Back in 2008, another more serious….but provocative….drama played itself out. I received a request from a guy in Tanzania, requesting to come stay at my house for a period of time. He, too, wanted to improve his English proficiency. He was employed as a bus boy or a porter at one of the more expensive hotels in his city. “Ah….not a bad job”, I thought….especially since he did not have a college education. I duly wrote a letter of invitation for him to present to the USA Embassy in Dar es Salaam, the capital city.

There was a few weeks delay, but eventually he informed me that he had been awarded a visa, and that he was indeed headed to the USA….and Kansas.

“Great! When are you going to arrive?” It would be a useful bit of information if he wanted me to meet him at the airport in Kansas City. Well, there seemed to be some doubt about the actual arrival date. He was first going to stop off in New York to visit one of his “best friends”, whom he had met at the hotel where he worked. They had, according to him, become very close friends while the guy was staying in the hotel. “OK….no problem. Let me know when you will be coming to my house, so I can make plans to meet you and bring you to my house.”

Some days went by, and one night I received a telephone call from a stranger in Albany, New York. “Are you expecting a visit from “this guy”? the man asked me.

“Yes…..” I replied.

“Well, we just want to give you some advance notice. There may be some problems.”

It seems that this young man rang the door bell of their home a couple nights previously. They opened the door…..and standing there was this strange black guy…..somebody they did not know….and had never seen before. Understandably, they were more than a little bit apprehensive. In fact, at first, they wouldn’t let him come inside their house! I mean….neither would I. He explained that their son was one of his “best friends”….and that they had met each other during one of their son’s trips to Tanzania. He told them that their son had invited him to come and stay with him, if he ever had the opportunity to travel to the USA. Of course, typical of most Americans…..this was only “small talk”. Never in a million years did he expect to see the guy again.

Several months had gone by since this chance meeting in the hotel in Dar es Salaam. Their son was back in the USA….and had never heard from…..or thought of….the guy again. Their son no longer lived at home. He was living in California where is was working on an advanced degree. But, he did remember who his parents were talking about when they called to ask him. (And, they had immediately call their son.)

Here was this skinny young black guy, standing on their front porch…..newly arrived in the USA. Yes…..their son did indeed know who he was. So…..feeling sorry for him….and feeling they had no other choice…..at least, no other humane choice…..they invited him in.

After a couple days, they suggested that perhaps he would like to go visit some of his other friends…..some of his other “best friends”. It became obvious to them that he had no money….or at least enough money to buy an airline ticket to Kansas City. They immediately recognized that they had a dilemma on their hands. Do they: 1. Kick him out into the street? 2. Do they let him stay at their house? 3. Do they buy him transportation in order to get rid of him?

They chose the third option….and probably gladly so. Now he would not be their problem any longer. He would be my problem. They bought him a bus ticket from Albany to Topeka.

They were kind and thoughtful (and humane) enough to call me to. “You may have a problem on your hands,” they told me. “He is a nice young man. He doesn’t seem to have any signs of meanness or violence. (Good to know!) But…..he also does not have any money.”

It was a cool, crisp, sunny morning in early October when I drove to Topeka to meet the guy at the bus stop. I knew the very minute he got off the bus that he had absolutely no intention of ever going back to Tanzania. He had obviously brought every material possession he owned with him. He had a large military-type duffel bag along with a couple other assorted banged up suitcases….certainly not the sign of somebody who intended to merely visit and then return home.

I must admit: I didn’t like him from the very first time I saw him. Maybe I was already biased by the information the people in New York had relayed to me. But, I was determined not to let my initial perception overshadow my common sense. I was willing to give him a chance…..to let him demonstrate what kind of person he really was. Sometimes first impressions can be wrong.

It didn’t take very long for his true intentions to begin to surface. And…..I had not been wrong. My first impression was right. The apprehension that I initially felt was fully justified. It was the following afternoon as we were sitting in my front room that his story began to unravel. I casually asked him how long he intended to stay…..when he was planning to go back home. If he had a return ticket.

“No,” he said. He had an “open ticket”……no return date. I was a little surprised at this information…..mostly because I did not expect the USA Immigration Service to issue such tickets….especially to somebody from Africa….. Usually, in almost all cases…..no matter where the person comes from……he is required to have a return ticket before a visa will be issued.

I asked him about this. It was at that point that he began to make his “sales pitch”.

First off, he asked me is I would adopt him….change his name….become a citizen of the United States. “What?! Is he really asking me to adopt him?” I was somewhat astonished at the request. No…..I wasn’t just astonished. I was dumbfounded…..astounded.

Then he began making his arguments: He could live here with me….and take care of me. I was getting old, and I wasn’t able to do all the work around the house and yard. (Now…..there is an argument that works every time…..right? Just tell somebody he is old and feeble.)

He would so the housework, do the cooking, take care of the yard……. All I would have to do to was sit back and enjoy my old age…..my senility and frailty.

“NO….” I told him…..as nicely as I could. “I don’t need anybody to take care of me. I have been taking care of myself rather successfully for many years…..and I think I can handle it.”

(Yeah…..that’s me: Daddy Beryl; Papa Darrah. Has a nice ring to it…..doesn’t it?)

(STRIKE ONE!)

After failing to convince me of his first proposition, he moved on to his second plan.

What about going to college? The United States government lets students from foreign countries come to the USA to attend college. He had talked to former students who had done this. He knew it was true!

Yes…..it IS true. But…..you must arrange all of this before applying for a study visa. There is a matter of a high school transcript…..recommendations from teachers….prior acceptance by an accredited college or university. And money! Do you have enough money to pay for a year of college? Or even a day of college? High education in the USA is not free. It is very expensive….especially for a foreigner.

What did he plan to do? Walk into the admissions office and say, “Here I am. I would like one twenty thousand dollar scholarship, please. And…..Oh yes….throw in another twenty thousand for an apartment and food. And, if you don’t mind….I would like a car, too.”

“Of course……. Now, may we have a copy of your high school transcript?’

“Oh…..I am sorry. I didn’t graduate from high school.”

“That’s OK. Don’t worry. You look like a nice guy. We will just go ahead and enroll you.”

(STRIKE TWO!)

OK……he would enroll in our high school and become a student. He apparently did not have a valid high school diploma…..so surely the United States government would agree to let him finish his education in high school.

I outlined the requirements for a non-resident to attend high school in the State of Kansas….and certainly in our high school. Obviously, he came no where close to fulfilling any of the preconditions.

(STRIKE THREE! But, wait…. He is still standing at home plate with a bit in is hand.)

Having struck out on that scheme, too……he moved on to his third proposal. Well, that was OK. He would just find a job and go to work.

Do you have a work visa? Do you have a valid ID? Do you have a social security number? How are you going to prove to your potential employer that you are in this country legally……and have the permission of our government to work? How many businesses…..including McDonalds and Wal Mart…..are going to risk potential legal problems to hire you? Grow up, boy. Open your eyes……

What’s this? BALL FOUR! You walk! Yes….”These boots were made for walking…”.

He was determined he was not going to return to Tanzania…..that he was going to stay in the USA. I told him he could stay for a week…..but then he had to move on. He didn’t believe me. The week ended and he was still here. I told him more forcefully that he had one more week…..and that was it. (Kind hearted me…..)

“Oh, oh…..one of my “best friends” lives in Lawrence. He said I could come and stay with them.”

“OK….call them on your cell phone and make the arrangements”

I took him to Lawrence on a Friday afternoon to meet up with his “best friend”. We met a McDonalds in west Lawrence. The guy, who worked for a large communications company, met us. The guy took me aside, and told me: “I really don’t even know this guy. I ran into him at the hotel where he works and casually told him to stop and see me if he ever made it to the USA.”

Oh? Why wasn’t I surprised by this revelation?

And….”No…..he can’t stay with us!” In fact, he said he could stay one night….and that was it.

My mistake…..and I can see it now….was letting the matter linger on for so long. But….most of the time, I am a pretty nice guy. I like to avoid hostility and aggression whenever possible. But, as most people who know me can confirm: I can be pretty inhospitable….even heartless….when I am pushed too far.

Well, I had reached this point…..and any pretense of friendliness or generosity had vanished. “You have one more week to find a placed to live. You are not welcome here any longer.” And, I reminded him of this fact on a daily basis…..sometimes more than once daily.

He spent almost ALL of his waking hours sitting in front of my computer….looking for a place to go. If I wanted to use my own computer, I literally had to kick him off. Finally, I restricted him to using my computer to two hours a day.

But…..he was getting desperate. One time I went into my office after he had left only to find that he had not logged off. On the screen was a gay site. Like I said, he was getting desperate. (I think.) He was starting to believe me when I told him he would have to leave. On a Monday, I told him that if he hadn’t found a place to live…..he had two choices: He could go back home or I would take him to a homeless shelter in Topeka. Oh yes…..I also told him that if he refused to leave, I would call the county sheriff or homeland security or the Immigration Service.

On Wednesday, he told me had found another place to live. Somebody in Lawrence had agreed to let him stay there. On Friday afternoon, we loaded all of his belonging into the back of my car and headed off for Lawrence…..and the good old McDonalds in west Lawrence. Two guys were standing beside a car…..obviously waiting for him. I tossed his duffel bag into the truck of the car……got into my car….and sped away.

That was six years ago. Apparently no love was lost. He still contacts me occasionally on Facebook or by e-mail to say Hi. He is living somewhere in the Kansas City area…..illegally, of course. He has a job….being paid in cash, of course. And…..he won’t tell me where is is living….of course!

Although some people think I am being vindictive, I would not hesitate to report his location to the proper authorities. But…..that is enough about that mistake.

Now….let me tell you about a mistake I could have made…..but didn’t. This story also involves a guy from Africa. (Yeah….I know. I am not a quick learner!)

This particular guy contacted me early in the year, asking if he could come and stay for three months…..during his break from college…..to improve his English. He described himself as a college student. (True, I suppose.) and a fairly good soccer player. (Could be true.) and playing for a reputable soccer team in his home city. (Sounds good, at least.) He was living at home with his mother….and he had a girl friend. (All things that sound good to Immigration officials.)

He had even picked out the dates. All he needed to do was pay his fee to the booking agency…..and everything would be in order for him to apply for a visa. He wanted to make sure that I would indeed host him for three months. Yes, I assured him….I would. So he duly paid the fee to the booking agency….an amount that is an arrangement between the guest and them…..and never discussed with the host family.

The next step was to send him an official letter of invitation that he could present to the USA Embassy. This was easy enough. I have a standard letter that I use. All that I need to do is change the name and the dates. And, of course, the Embassy also wants a copy of my driver’s license, a copy of my passport, and some proof that I actually live at my present address. All of these documents have been scanned and saved on my computer. So……I had done my part. The rest was up to him.

There seemed to be a lot of foot-dragging on his part. Suddenly it was a week before his arrival date…..and he still did not have a visa….or an airline ticket. Finally, we met up chatting on Facebook again. “How are things coming along with the visa?” I asked him.

“Oh….OK,” he answered rather vaguely. “When I get there, I want to play soccer.”

“Well…..I don’t know. There aren’t a lot of adult soccer teams in the area. But, I suppose we can look for something. Maybe the YMCA…..or an adult soccer league in Topeka.”

“No…..I want to play for Sporting Kansas City…..and I want you to call them and get me on the team.”

“WHAT? You’ve got to be joking! There is no way I can do that.”

“Just tell them that you have a good player from Africa who wants to play for them.”
“It just doesn’t happen that way in the USA,” I tried to tell him.

But, he wasn’t going to take NO for an answer. “Will you call them and talk to them?”  Or if not Sporting Kansas City…..any team would do.

I tried to explain to him…..first of all…..that I had no way of getting him a job on ANY soccer team ANYWHERE. And second….that his visa would not allow him to work. He had to have a work visa…..have an official invitation from an employer…..etc., etc.

That evening, I sent him a lot of information from the US Immigration web site describing and explaining the various types of visas……listing all the requirements and qualifications.

Maybe he couldn’t understand everything I sent to him….or maybe he didn’t even read it….because he still insisted that I could find him a job as a soccer player! I have been to only one professional soccer game in my entire life….and that was in Berlin. I sat in the stadium struggling to stay awake. There was certainly nothing going on down on the field that would keep me awake. I didn’t understand what was going on…..if, indeed, something was actually going on…..and I found the entire soccer match to be supremely boring.

Finally, to put an end to his misguided presumptions and expectations. I told him there was absolutely nothing could do to help him….and that I would look foolish and naïve if I even tired. “You are welcome to come stay at my house…..but forget about the soccer. It is not going to happen.”

He apparently wasted his non-refundable fee to the booking agency…..because he decided not to come, after all.

Then there was the young man who was bicycling across the USA…..as part of a fund-raising effort for some charity. He had planned his trip so that he could stay with a different family every night of his multi-week trip. I was happy to let him stay in my home for a night or two on his journey as my contribution to his cause.

We communicated by e-mail, so I knew approximately what time I could expect him. Since I live in the country, we arranged for me to meet him at a gas station that would be easier for him to find. Then he could follow me to my house…..or we could simply put his bicycle into the back of my pickup, and we would drive to my house.

About an hour before he was scheduled to arrive, the telephone rang. It was the guy calling. He had experienced mechanical problems with his bicycle and he had also had to pedal into a 40 mph headwind. He was not able to make it to my house.
Ah…..too bad. But…..that was not the problem. He had no place to spend the night. He had not foreseen these circumstances…..and thus had not planned for them. He had no contingency plan.

“Where are you now?” I asked him.

“In Hiawatha, Kansas,” he said.

Well, at least he was in Kansas! As opposed to Wyoming or somewhere! Hiawatha is a little over fifty miles from where I live. So…..what to do? Should I say, “Oh man….that is too bad. Good luck.” OR should I do the good-guy thing and go pick him up? What do you think I did? Of course…….”OK, wait there, and I will come pick you up.”

He turned out to be a delightful young man….doing a worthy deed…..but hit with some unforeseen bad circumstances……and he never did stop thanking me for coming to his rescue. In this case, I felt good about helping him.

When I think back on the many foreign and domestic guests that have stayed at my house, there are examples to support the proverbs I quoted at the beginning of this essay.

I have told you about three which illustrate the first adage: “No good deed goes unpunished.” But, fortunately, these incidents are in the minority. I would like to think that I am fulfilling the teaching of the third proverb: “Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.”

When I reflect on my German exchange students with whom I am still in frequent contact, the pleasant memories overshadow the bad experiences. When I consider the joy and delight that Fayez continues to bring into my life….the other incidents seem only to be minor annoyances or irritations.

Throughout my associations with many foreigners who aspire to come to the United States for one reason or another, I have been amazed by the often distorted, misguided and right down false impressions that many foreigners have concerning the United States and life in the United States.

This should not be surprising, though. Most foreigners receive almost all of their “knowledge” about the USA by watching American TV programs or American movies. Many outsiders….especially in under-developed countries…. perceive the people of this country to be rich, affluent, arrogant, entitled….not to mention violent, combative, and intrusive.

One of the major problems I have had when dealing with potential guests from poor countries is to convince them that I am NOT rich; I am not powerful. That I do not live in a mansion and drive an expensive sports car. That I do not have money to spend on frivolous luxuries. That I do not even own a gun….let along carry it through the streets looking for a fight. That I am not intent on controlling their country…..or robbing their resources.

More than once I have explained….mostly unsuccessfully…..that movies like “The Terminator” or “Transformers” or “Iron Man” or “The X Men” simply are not true. In fact, they are rather preposterous and childish products of someone’s imagination. Movies and TV program like this bear no similarity to reality; in fact, they are complete escapist entertainment….for those who like that kind of stuff…. (And I happen to be one of the people who do not like it.)

One of the greatest annoyances that I must deal with is the person who contacts me…..talks about wanting to come to the USA to improve his English and learn about the USA….and then asks me for money for their airline ticket or the fee to pay for their visa.

Even more disconcerting are the people who aren’t even that subtle. They simply ask for money….period. Or they ask for me to find them a job…..or get them accepted into college…..or to find an American girl friend……

I must tell them matter-of-factly….and as kindly….as possible….that I have none of these capabilities….that I cannot help them. And, I also try to point out that they have misunderstood the spirit and intent of the hospitality organizations. But…..here again….I suppose that I am reinforcing their assumption about the rich, greedy, selfish, arrogant American. Oh well…..

But, as I said earlier, the success stories that I have experienced through the years; the marvelous people that I have met….and still meet; the pleasant memories that I have accumulated; …..have made hosting foreign guests an awesome adventure…..awesome enough to continue for immediate future.

Yeah……it’s like people always say, “You win some…….You lose some.”  But, I am still playing the game.

 

 

(FOOTNOTE: Now….before I finally end this essay…..I want to remind you that ALL of the pictures you see in this blog are those of extraordinary people who have brought excitement, satisfaction and job into my life for the past twenty years…..my success stories.   The failure and the bummers and the downers have been relegated to mere footnotes, written in tiny print, and only conjured up to tell a good story.)