My Host Family

     Well, if this blog is going to be about my time in Belgium, we can't have the only post be about a trip I took in the United States. So I am going to take this time to tell you about the little I know about my first host family.

     This is a picture of my host family, and some other people I don't know. My host mother pointed out a few of the people in the picture, but not everyone who's face appears is accounted for. Starting from the right, the bald man in the withe shirt is going to be my first host father, Eric. To his right, our left, is someone that is a mystery person. The further to his right, our left is my host mother, the shorter woman with the blond hair. The little girl with blond curls in front of her is going to be my 7 year old host sister. Those were all the people mentioned, though I think the guy with long brown hair in the middle is my host mother's son. I refrain from saying host brother because he has already left and is now in Phoenix. I don't quite understand why he is there. I am unsure if he is on an exchange himself, or there for another reason. I just know he exists and that I will probably never meet him. 

     So besides what they look like, I do know a little bit about my parents. My host mother owns a children's store. It sells clothes for small children, strollers, stuff of that nature. I am unsure what my host father does, but he works in the same building as my host mother, but not in the same store - i think. I do know he is a football coach (European, not American, though he does look the type). 

     It might seem like there is a lot of uncertainty about this information, and that is because I don't speak very good French. My host mother (the one I've been communicating with mainly) speaks a little English, but thinks I should start working on my French right away. So a lot of my information is lost through the filter of translation, which makes me a bit sad.

      That is all I really know. I guess I can add that my host mother says I will be able to fence while I am there. I don't know what weapon, and I don't know what level, but I will be able to fence. That makes me happy. 

     The time for me to leave is getting close, and though I don't even have my visa yet, I am feeling the approaching emptiness that will be felt when I no longer living here, seeing you all every day. I am getting increasingly excited, but at the same time increasingly apprehensive. You all make it hard to leave. 

~Weston Halberstadt