Guest Column - Nancy Koziol

January 1, 2022

I don't know about any of you, but I am not a resolutionary. There will be no dry January. No sudden gym routine or eschewing of gluten with a firm hand. I will not stop drinking soda or start a yoga practice. And let's not pretend I am the type who would ever--in one million years--engage in the science of meal prep. Despite my being habit and routine driven, for some reason the idea of starting something on January first has simply never appealed to me. I do like to start a habit on a Monday. I track literally everything I do and love a streak, but applying this to the day when I'm usually (let's be honest) exhausted from a night out... nah.

That said, Kris with a K and I do take on one new thing a year. It started around the time we bought our first house. We committed to a year of shopping locally only. And when we said locally we were stringent: not a local chain. Not "but I can't find it anywhere." We were in it. Since then we've selected something each year, usually during discussions over holiday drives, that we think will be helpful, that will teach us. The rules are pretty vague.

At a recent Rotary meeting, a speaker mentioned how many exchange students she had hosted over the years and my heart just leapt. Of all the decisions Kris and I have made when it comes to taking something on for a year, hosting foreign exchange students has by far been the most life-enriching. It is something I can't help. but speak fondly about an adventure I think everyone should go on at least once. After taking a friend's foreign exchange student to New York for a weekend, we decided this was our next project. We immediately signed up. It's a bizarre process, at first, it's not unlike adoption. You're quizzed and queried, your house inspected. The government sniffs around to make sure you're not secretly an agent of some foreign government. Your employment is scrutinized and your driving record. That's when it gets really bizarre: because it starts to feel like online dating.

Suddenly you and your spouse are on the couch with a bottle of wine. Skimming profiles, looking at photos, reading answers to questions and that all-telling essay. What country will you choose? Do you want a boy or a girl? Can you take on someone with a food allergy or physical limitation? Pouring over the students was a fascinating study in ourselves, our partnership and our lifestyle. We decided to go with a student from The Netherlands. Partly because it was the first country we'd visited as a couple. Mostly because the Dutch are notoriously tall and we wouldn't have to climb to get things from high cabinets. There weren't many Dutch boys who met our age requirements (the older the better, we're not experienced with kids and thought someone older would be less likely to be homesick). After choosing in the filters, the student who matched "best" with us (yup, ranked... just like a dating site circa 2002!) was a girl named Naomi. A twin. She'd never been to the US, never been apart from Lizzie, her other half. She would turn 16 not long after entering the US but before getting to us (she was attending a two-week pre-experience at a college first).

I will never forget two things about Naomi's trip: meeting her at the airport upon her arrival in Detroit and the absolute devastation of dropping her off at the end of her year. That said, I will also never forget millions of things that happened in between: both the big and the small. Her randomly speaking to us in Dutch one day (she was tired), her never being able to find this one pan we used to cook dinner nearly every night, traveling with her and her bestie, a foreign exchange student from Argentina, by train across the US for an extended spring break in California or touching down on the floor of the Grand Canyon in a helicopter during a weekend in Vegas. Concerts and plays and Sunday nights watching Dexter and eating ice cream. Her chasing our dog the many, many times she forgot to pay attention while coming in from school.

Just a few days ago, Naomi shared news of her engagement. It's insane to think that this person, who only spent ten months with us, is such a huge part of our life and story. How she taught us about ourselves and the world. How despite the fact that we've only been together once since then (she and Lizzie visited about two years after her American year) she is a constant in our life.

We were lucky enough to immediately host another Dutchie right away. Tom, the vegetarian, who loved joining us on our weekly Friday-night board game nights with friends and wowed his high school's theatre program. Who I accidentally outed to his mom (and who immediately said to me, "It's fine, I probably shouldn't have lied to you and said she knew," with the practicality only the Dutch have as I stood in horror apologizing profusely). Like Naomi, Tom has also visited, with his whole family in tow. He is also a part of our every day. Each year since we've hosted, around this time, I think about how much hosting has made me a better, more self-aware person. Each year I lament about the fact that we can't host in our condo. And so, if you're looking for a way to give back and to enrich your life, to connect with your spouse and kids and even extended family, I encourage you to seek out the application. Don't think about it too much, open a bottle of wine, think about who would be a good match and open yourself to the adventure.

Author: Nancy Koziol
Kristi Cross (Club Member & Windmill Editor)