It takes all kinds...

For the past few days, we had some young men staying with us from Winnepeg. They were on a band trip. During their stay, when they were in our home, or we were going back and forth to their meeting spots, I asked about their weather and their transportation and how big the black flies were in Manitoba. I found out about how big their school was, where abouts in relation to the school they lived. They told me there's a 7-11 on every street corner in the city. I wonder if they thought me a little wacko for being so inquisitive.

Any time you are a billet, you are at the mercy of complete strangers. You have to adapt to their household rules in a matter of hours. It's a bit like a Russian Roulette. You never know what you are going to experience. You don't even have to go out of the country to have a different cultural experience because each family has its own culture.

I thought back over billeting experiences I have had. On a band trip in high school, my sister and I were billeted with a gal who was an only child. I remember she had blond hair, and that she practiced her singing techniques (she was working at opera) at the oddest times. It is a little disconcerting to wake up to that as an alarm clock, or to consider opera singing a lullaby.

I remember going to a youth conference with my friend Diane. We were billeted at this home which was quite posh. They had a concert grand piano in their living room. We tiptoed in to take a look and give it a try. It filled me with the dream of having a grand piano in my own living room one day. (I might have to build a room to fit it in though)

I think back to my Bible School year in Australia. During one of our practicums, we were taken to a different town to do street ministry [and other things] for this church. My friend Corrine and I were to stay with this family who knew very little about Canada. I remember a little of their house - we stayed upstairs and it had blue carpet. Mostly, I remember the Volvo that they drove. One of the activities was a potluck. They brought a watermelon and I think it went bad in their trunk. So Corrine and I fondly dubbed the Volvo "the watermelon". It helped us get through having to travel in it because it smelled really bad.
The mother of the family asked us a lot of questions about living in Canada. She didn't even know that there were four seasons in Canada. We made some off hand joke about getting around by snow dogs and sleds and she seemed as if she believed us which raised our eyebrows just a little.

I wonder what these boys will remember about this experience if anything. Besides the nosey mother, they got to see a soccer game (we are a soccer family). They got ooey-gooey milkshakes both nights they were here. I served them pancakes one morning and blueberry muffins the next. One dog, three cats, three kids rushing in and out of activities. Wouldn't it be strange if we met up with them some other time and found out what they thought.

In terms of how it went for us, I would say it was a positive experience. And I have to tell you that my family is keen to have more billets. Are you kidding? Early morning pancakes? Blueberry muffins? They thought they'd woken up in the wrong house. FYI, if the billets had stayed one more day, all my breakfast menus would have been used up and they would have been served toast and cereal. The Martha Stewart in me runs out long before the commercial breaks.