Defining Moment #6 - Exchange Students

I've written about one of our exchange students, Takashi, in previous posts. He was the one who most completely immersed himself in our home- and family-life. He is the one who has come back to visit us, both in Oregon and in Alaska. He is the one who called Dan and I, "Dad" and "Mom," and talked of Chris and Tim as being his "brothers." He is the one I think of as our "Japanese son."

However, Takashi was only one of a number of international folks who lived with us. Most of them were from Japan, but not all.

The first was Akira, an uncharacteristically tall Japanese boy with a great sense of humor and a zest for American life.

Here are (left to right) my dad, Dan, me and Akira at the Newberg Old Fashioned Days parade.

The next summer Akihito came to stay with us. He loved tennis, and was happy that we lived walking distance to some courts.

Akihito, Chris and Tim, at a picnic

Then came Tadashi, who was not a student, but a teacher/chaperon for a group of students. Tadashi had a good grasp of English (he was an English teacher, in fact) and enjoyed engaging us in philosophical discussions . . . "You Americans don't kill whales because they are beautiful animals. But it is okay to kill ugly animals?"

Tadashi, arriving in Newberg with some roses for his host family (us)

Next came Takashi, our "son," who warned us, when he was about to depart for home, that we would never host another student like him -- who would be integrated into our family as completely as he was; who would be a "son" like he was.

Takashi loved to cook. Here he is preparing a meal for us.

Concurrent with and following Takashi's stay, we also provided a home to Fumi, another Japanese boy who had befriended Takashi, and was not happy with his assigned host-family.

While Fumi was living with us, his mother came for a visit. She was so pretty, and looked young enough to be Fumi's sister!

Victor, from Brazil, didn't officially live with us, but he spent a lot of time in our home, because he befriended both Takashi and Fumi. Victor was a joy! He had a wonderful personality, and the best laugh. He came back to visit us several years later, after becoming a judge in the Brazilian legal system.

Victor, Takashi and Fumi got to go through the graduation ceremonies at Newberg High. Dan and I helped chaperon the Senior all-night alcohol-free party, which was a lot of fun.

Then came Rodrigo, from Colombia. He was our one failure. Try as we might, Rodrigo wasn't happy in our home, and made life difficult for all of us. We requested he be moved to another home after Christmas (I guess Takashi may have been right!).

Here's Rodrigo at Christmas time. We always tried to make Christmas as special for our exchange kids as it was for our own.

And finally we hosted a young girl (our ONLY girl!) from the Ukraine, named Katerina. She was only in the U.S. for a three-week stay, so we didn't have the chance to get to know her as well as some of the others. (I can't locate a picture of her, but she was very pretty.)

Our experiences with these young people -- both the wonderful memories and the trying times -- defined me in several ways.

• My American way of thinking was challenged and expanded, and I saw life from new perspectives. For instance, have you ever tried to help a Japanese student study for and pass a semester-long American History course? Consider, just as one example, explaining the Salem Witch Trials!
• I became a better communicator, and fairly skilled at non-verbal communication. In their early days with us, most of these students spoke and understood very little English. We frequently relied upon pantomime or picture-drawing. Even after they had been with us for several months, there were miscommunications that had to be resolved; and I learned how vital facial expressions, body language and touch were to effective communication.
• I became, in one sense, the missionary I always wanted to be. I had the opportunity to teach these young folks about the God of the Bible, through example and earnest discussions, without ever traveling to Japan, Brazil, Colombia or the Ukraine.
• My desire to learn was stimulated, and opportunities were opened up to me. I became so fascinated with Japan, its culture and language, that I took six years of Japanese language study and even taught a couple of quarters of conversational Japanese at Portland Community College. I was then hired on as an adjunct ESL (English as a Second Language) teacher at George Fox, where I worked with college-age students from both Asia and South America. I doubt that any of these rich and rewarding experiences would have been mine had I not been touched by these kids.
• Besides defining and refining me, hosting was also a rich experience for our two sons, who gained an understanding of other cultures, while sharing their space, their time, their parents and their friends, and exchanging ideas with these young people.

"Cah-na-bal" in Brazil

Getting back to the Language theme, after a brief White Christmas interlude . . .

I've told you about our Japanese exchange student, Takashi. While he was living with us, he became friends with another high school exchange student, Victor, from Brazil. Of course, Victor didn't speak Japanese, and Takashi didn't speak Portuguese, so their only common language was English. Both of them did admirably well in conversational English, but their accents and pronunciations often confused those of us who were native-born English speakers. The confusion was, of course, compounded when the two of them were talking together, neither of them using their native language.

As spring approached, and Takashi and Victor's friendship grew stronger, Victor spent a lot of time at our house after school and on weekends. One day I was in the kitchen, fixing dinner, and Takashi and Victor were sitting at the kitchen bar, having an afternoon snack.

"Some day I want to see Cah-na-bal in Brazil" said Takashi. "Have you seen Cah-na-bal?"

"No! We don't have Cah-na-bal in Brazil!" Victor said, indignantly.

"Yes, you do! I saw, in magazines," said Takashi.

"Well . . . maybe . . . long time ago. Or maybe in the jungle we might have Cah-na-bal," said Victor. But we don't have Cah-na-bal in cities! Not now!"

To that, Takashi snapped back, very assuredly, "Yes, I'm sure . . . Cah-na-bal is in Rio."

"Wait just a minute," I interrupted, realizing there was a serious break-down in communication, somewhere. "Takashi, tell me about Cah-na-bal."

"You know, Mom, there is dancing and parades and music and . . . "

I wrote the word, "Carnival" on a piece of paper. Takashi nodded, and I passed the paper to Victor, who laughed out loud. He took the pencil and wrote "Cannibal" on the same piece of paper. "They eat people!" he said, pointing at his word and still laughing. It took Takashi a few seconds to look up "cannibal" in his well-used pocket dictionary, before he, too, joined in the hilarity of the miscommunication.

Introducing Takashi James

Chris and Takashi at Takashi's farewell dinner at our house.

In 1988 an 18-year-old Japanese exchange student, named Takashi, came to live with us for the school year. He had already graduated from high school in Japan, but came for the purpose of experiencing life in America. Takashi was delighted that he had been assigned to a family in Oregon, since he was a fan of a popular TV program, airing in Japan at that time, called "From Oregon with Love." It was a series, actually filmed in Oregon, about an extended Japanese family who had moved to Oregon to be strawberry farmers.

Takashi was the oldest of three brothers. Not only was he the oldest brother, but his father was the oldest of his brothers, and his grandfather was, also, the oldest brother in his family. Takashi, therefore, being the oldest son of the oldest son of the oldest son, would be the future head of his extended family, which, in the Japanese culture, is a huge responsibility, and one that weighed heavily on Takashi's mind. His life would not be the typical modern Japanese life. For instance, although his brothers could choose their brides, he would be expected to have some form of an arranged marriage because of his family status.

Takashi's father was a brain surgeon, and his grandfather owned a hospital. Therefore, his family was quite wealthy. He also claimed, with pride, that his family ancestors were bushi (the Japanese warrior caste, or Samurai). He claimed to be Buddhist, but "not religious." Although Takashi was in some ways a typical teenager, he was tied to the ancient ways more than most.

Being host parents in a small town meant that we had occasional contact with other host families. Several of those families failed to bond with their student. Some had to make placement changes during the year. Some of the students had to be sent back home. But, despite a number of challenging times along the way, Takashi's determination to be "part of the family" contributed greatly to the successful experience we ultimately had. Takashi chose to do everything that we did as a family. He went to church with us, and participated in the youth group activities with our sons. He eagerly celebrated birthdays and holidays with us. He joined us in weekend trips. He helped out with chores around the house. He chose to call Dan and I, "Dad" and "Mom"; Chris and Tim, his "brothers"; and my folks, "Nanny" and "Papa."

One day, early on, Takashi asked me why I sometimes called Chris "Christopher Russell" and sometimes called Tim "Timothy Andrew." I explained the American custom of using the formal first and middle name, for emphasis, when a parent was speaking sternly to a child. When he told me that the Japanese don't have middle names, I said, "Well, we'll have to do something about that, or how will you know when you're in trouble?" Understanding my attempt at humor, he grinned and asked if I'd give him a middle name. That's when I dubbed him "Takashi James," a name that would come in handy a number of times during his stay.

There are too many Takashi stories to put in one blog post, so I've chosen only to introduce him here. More stories will follow in the near future.